#i do not want to drag the way they dress into it since emily as a kid was in white (common mourning clothes for children which ????)

[no-light-left-on]

I wonder if Jessamine's passing influenced the way death and mourning is viewed in the Empire

the world is strongly inspired by Victorian and Edwardian society, and one of the most defining aspects of the era, at least for modern people, is the way mourning was perceived at the time.

which, in turn, was influenced by the untimely death of queen Victoria's husband. the period of mourning, the way it is to be expressed, how people should behave and dress - all of this was strongly influenced by the widowhood of queen Victoria.

there are some paralells to it in the Kaldwin Empire, too. the untimely death of empress Jessamine, the high regard in which she is held long after her death, the ceremonies that accompany the anniversary of her passing. the way Emily has to perform, year after year, give a speech and celebrate her dead mother. the way Corvo's "celibacy" is often highlighted, his love for Jessamine and him remaining loyal to her even many years later and never taking another lover- so much of the mourning for the late Empress is celebrated and ceremonialized. I wonder what kind of effect it had on the world as a whole

[hazzashouse]

Through the Darkness (Harry Styles one shot)

This topic is incredibly important to me. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please know you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to someone you trust—a friend, a family member, or a professional. You are not alone, and you are loved. There is strength in asking for support, and there are people who want to be there for you. You are never alone.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Triggers: Depression, anxiety, emotional distress, mentions of isolation, self-doubt, and heavy themes of mental health struggles. Please read with care.

The world outside your apartment window was cold and colorless, mirroring the ache in your chest. Days blurred into nights, the sun rising and setting without your notice. It had been weeks since you last stepped outside for more than a grocery run. Even then, the strain of smiling at the cashier left you drained for days.

The depression you thought you’d left behind had returned, a familiar weight pressing against your chest, heavy and relentless. It was worse this time because it felt like failure. You’d been doing so well—hadn’t you? Harry had told you how proud he was. Your friends had said you seemed lighter. And now, here you were again, feeling like a burden to everyone you loved.

Harry was away on tour, as he always was this time of year. The texts and calls were there, of course. But you hadn’t told him. You couldn’t. His life was busy, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds, and you couldn’t bear to drag him into the shadows with you. He didn’t need that—not when he was living his dream.

So you suffered in silence, telling yourself you’d find your way out. Except, you didn’t.

Your best friend, Emily, was the first to notice. She’d stopped by unexpectedly, armed with a smile and coffee. You hadn’t answered her texts for days, and she’d decided to check in. When you opened the door, she froze, her face dropping.

“Hey…” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What’s going on, babe?”

You didn’t have the energy to lie.

Emily took one look at the unwashed dishes, the unopened curtains, and the dark circles under your eyes and immediately understood. She’d seen this before.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, pulling you into a hug. The warmth of her arms broke something inside you, and the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

Emily didn’t leave that night. She made you tea, coaxed you into eating something, and stayed until you fell asleep. The next morning, she tried to talk to you about reaching out to Harry.

“He’ll want to know,” she said gently. “He loves you. You know he’d drop everything.”

But you shook your head. “I don’t want to ruin his tour. He’s happy.”

Emily sighed but didn’t push. Instead, when you weren’t looking, she sent Harry a message herself:

Hey, I know you’re busy, but she’s struggling again. She didn’t want me to tell you, but I think you should know. Call me when you can.

Harry didn’t see the text until hours later. His phone had been in the dressing room while he performed to a sold-out crowd. When the show ended and he finally unlocked it, Emily’s message was waiting.

He read it twice before his heart sank.

————————

Harry’s decision to leave wasn’t even a question. His team tried to reason with him, suggesting he finish the next two shows before taking a break, but he shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “She needs me. She’s more important than any of this.”

————————

The sound of a key in the lock woke you from a restless sleep. You sat up, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. When Harry’s familiar figure appeared, relief and guilt warred inside you.

“Harry?” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room in a few strides and pulled you into his arms. His chest rose and fell against yours, and you realized he was trembling.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m here.”

You didn’t mean to cry, but his presence—his warmth, his steady heartbeat—was the comfort you hadn’t known you needed.

Harry didn’t try to fix you. He knew better than that. Instead, he stayed close, quietly reminding you of his love in the small ways that mattered most.

He opened the curtains one morning and sat with you on the couch, not saying a word as you watched the sunlight pour in.

He ran a bath for you, adding your favorite lavender oil, and sat outside the door in case you needed him.

He cooked meals you didn’t have the energy to eat but never made you feel guilty for it.

On the hardest days, when leaving the bed felt impossible, he stayed with you, holding your hand as if anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told you one night, his voice steady. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’m here.”

Slowly, the darkness began to lift. Harry’s patience, his unwavering support, created space for you to breathe again. He reminded you of the things you loved—the music you used to listen to, the books you hadn’t touched in months, the way your laughter used to fill the room.

It wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks. But with Harry by your side, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be okay.

One afternoon, as you sat together on the couch, you looked at him and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, his green eyes soft.

“For loving me. For staying.”

Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

And in that moment, you knew it was true.

————————

like and reblog if you liked it and follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.

[maximoffcarter]

Florida.

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x reader.

Summary: Emily Prentiss was known to be a sweet, kind, funny and playful person, while also being dedicated, determined and serious, etc. But when y/n joined, everyone noticed the bundle of nerves she was around her, and the teasing was very present too.

A/n: This is for @storiesofsvu 's birthday bingo with the prompt 'Heatwave'. This is my first time participating and I hope this was good hehe, excited to do this and to show you this cute one shot🫢 I dunno why I decided that in Emily's fics, reader will have the last name of 'Carter', I just love it. But anywayyyy, I wanted to do this for my birthday, post today cause I just felt like it and so here it is. I hope you guys enjoy this, if you got any requests for Emily, send them my way. Leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

*not my gif*

When Hotch announced that there would be a new agent joining the team, it was no surprise that they were curious of who it could be. Maybe an old agent that worked with Hotch before, or maybe someone who knew Rossi, maybe a new ‘baby’ agent as they liked to call them, maybe someone who had been recommended. For the rest of the day, they all had been talking about it and trying to figure out who it could be; Penelope got her skills working, trying to see if there was anything about this new agent on the system already, but so far, nothing. So, on Monday, when a beautiful, young girl walked to Hotch’s office, all eyes were on her. To say the least, they were all surprised that the chosen one had been a ‘baby’ agent; soon enough, Penelope had her file shown to everyone before Hotch could walk in and introduce her.

It was no surprise that everyone found the new girl beautiful, interesting by the way she looked so serious and quiet, but there was something that changed in Emily that day. Since the moment she laid her eyes on the new recruit, she had gone completely silent, her eyes locked in the girl. Everyone around her kept talking about her, making assumptions, or just commenting on how beautiful she was, but Emily? She didn’t say a thing. She just kept her eyes on her, which…was creepy, if Emily thought about it. She didn’t mean to do that, she didn’t mean to keep staring, but it was impossible not to. Soon enough, y/n got along with the whole team, she has started to join them for drinks, she went out to lunch with them, Penelope had even dragged her to their girl's night and had announced that y/n was now the new member. Y/n couldn’t have been happier with the fact that they all were making her feel like she really belonged with them.

It wasn’t too long after Emily started noticing her behavior around y/n, the way she acted, the way her voice changed, the way she smiled even more than usual, there were so many little things that she started to notice and that she hoped that no one else would. And that’s when it clicked; she had a crush. She has not had a crush in years. Years. She had focused on her job, she had said that she didn’t have time to date or even go around meeting people, and the thought of one-night stands…they were a big no. But y/n had completely changed that, she liked her, she liked being around her, she loved to see her smiling, she loved to hear her laugh, she loved to see how well she got along with everyone, she loved the way she dressed, the way she talked, the way she walked…yeah. It was definitely a crush.

Emily sat on her desk and was focused on the file she had right in front of her, but the moment she heard y/n’s laugh, she couldn’t help but look her way and smile at how cute she looked. She didn’t know what stupid thing Spencer and Morgan were saying, but the fact that she was laughing and smiling, made Emily feel warm inside. She didn’t notice that JJ and Penelope were right behind her, quietly laughing as they stared at Emily for a while. JJ leaned down to whisper in Emily’s ear, trying to hold back her laugh.

“Like what you see, Prentiss?” JJ whispered softly, making Emily almost jump from her seat.

“Jesus, JJ!” Emily looked back at Penelope and JJ laughing hysterically at her reaction, making Emily groan. “Why would you scare me like that?”

“Oh, you were just very distracted and well…we didn’t want to interrupt.” JJ teased as Penelope kept laughing beside her.

Emily shook her head and then shrugged. “You were not interrupting anything.”

“Oh, so you were not just staring at Carter over there? Cause I wear glasses, m’lady, and I am pretty sure you were just smiling and admiring her from afar.” Penelope teased as she leaned over Emily’s desk, mocking the position Emily had been in while staring at y/n.

Emily rolled her eyes as she scoffed. “Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon, Em! We know you have it bad for our girl over there. We don’t blame you.” JJ grinned softly as she crossed her arms.

Emily turned her chair and tried to go back to her file. “Don’t know what y’all are talking about.”

Penelope looked at JJ with a smirk on her face. “Denial is the first step.”

JJ chuckled softly as she nodded. “Oh, yes. Let’s see how long she stays in there.”

Emily could feel her cheeks getting warm as she heard her friends, unable to deny it because they were entirely right, and they knew it. This couldn’t be good, because now that they had figured it out, there was no way in hell that they would stop teasing Emily, so now she had to prepare mentally for the torture into which she had just walked.

“Earth to Emily!”

Emily snapped out of her trance and looked up to find y/n leaning over her desk. “Oh, hi! I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded. “I was saying thank you for the coffee this morning, and for the muffin. It so happened to be my favorite actually.” She grinned softly as she stared at Emily.

Emily smiled widely as she nodded. “It so happens to be my favorite too, so I’m glad I got the right one.”

“You have good taste, Prentiss.” Y/n grinned as she stood up. “Next coffee is on me.” She squeezed Emily’s shoulder before she walked away.

Penelope scoffed as she looked at Emily. “You’ve never brought me muffins!”

“That’s because she has a crush, of course she’d buy her a muffin too.” JJ smirked as she walked away.

Emily chuckled softly as she nodded. “Can’t deny it.”

“Knew it!” Penelope whispered/yelled, making Emily blush more. “You’re so soft around her. It’s cute.”

“I am not soft.” Emily raised her brow as she looked at Penelope.

“Oh, you definitely are, Em. Soft Emily! Adorable.” Penelope pinched Emily’s cheek and then walked away.

********************

If there was once place that most of them hated to go to, was Florida. There were many reasons why they didn’t actually like to be there, of course their main focus was to help people and solve the case, but the fact that there was an actual heatwave and there were some psycho out there murdering people in the middle of it, was annoying and frustrating. The moment they landed, they all literally almost stripped out of their clothes as soon as they walked out of the jet. The sun was their biggest enemy at the moment, if they were pissed about the case, now with the heatwave, they were done. Luckily, the precinct they had to go to had air conditioning, and it was nice to stay there, but the fact that Hotch had to send them to different locations got the whole team in a mood. Reid and Rossi were sent to the morgue, while Morgan, Emily and y/n were sent to the last crime scene.

“I swear, I’m about to strip down and give two shits about who sees me.” Morgan says as she got out of the car, slamming the door.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’d be a good picture to keep in my mind, so thank you but no.” Emily shook her head as she followed Morgan, almost rolling her eyes.

“C’mon, Prentiss. You’re gonna tell me you don’t wanna see some of this?” Morgan smirked as he raised his shirt to show his abs.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she pulled his shirt down. “The heat is annoying as it is, please don’t add to the annoyance. We’ve got enough.” She said in a playful tone as she kept walking.

“Carter, baby, you’d love to see what’s underneath all this.” Morgan raised his brows as he wrapped his arm around y/n’s shoulders as they walked.

“In your wildest dreams, my man. But I don’t play for that team.” Y/n grinned as she pushed him away. “And please, do not get near me again, I like you, but right now I do not need sweat from someone else.” She raised her brows playfully and got her gloves out of her back pocket, walking to the crime scene.

“This girl is something else, isn’t she?” Morgan smirked as he stood beside Emily, turning to look at her for a moment.

Emily cleared her throat as she nodded. “Definitely.” She then looked at Morgan who was already staring at her with a smirk on his face. “What?”  

Morgan raised his brows. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Oh, my…” Emily sighed loudly as she covered her face. She then looked back at Morgan and raised her hands. “Is it that obvious or what?”

“Nah. The thought just slipped my mind just now, but you just confirmed it.” Morgan winked as he followed y/n.

Emily groaned and shook her head as she followed them. Not only was it embarrassing that JJ and Penelope teased her about it every possible chance they had, but now Morgan wouldn’t drop it either and she was sure that her soon join the girls. But could he actually blame her? Y/n had talked on the jet how she had prepared herself for the weather and soon enough she’d get rid of her blazer, but Emily hadn’t expected anything more than y/n having a comfortable shirt or blouse underneath, but when she did take the blazer off, not only was a sleeveless shirt but the shirt hugged her figure perfectly, and that’s when Emily stared at her arms, fascinated by how strong she looked, and suddenly she felt like a perv, imagining things that she could only talk with herself.

It was no better once they headed back to the precinct. In their way back, Emily looked at the backseat to tell y/n something about the case and that’s when she noticed y/n had put her hair back in a ponytail which gave Emily a better look on her beautiful face. Emily turned back so fast to try to hide the redness on her face. Morgan of course noticed this but didn’t say a thing as he kept driving. Once in the precinct, Emily tried her best to focus on the case, directly staring at Hotch and at the board, but she couldn’t help but stare at y/n every now and then, and at times, she caught y/n looking back at her, which caught her off guard.

The next day was no different, having to go to different places to find evidence or witness made it hard to stay sane. The weather seemed to be getting worse or maybe it was just them that couldn’t deal with the heat. All day, Emily and y/n had been working apart, so Emily had a chance to focus more on the case and keep y/n away from her mind. Once Rossi and Emily were back in the precinct, Emily was going through some files when she felt a hand on her back, sending a shiver down her spine.

Y/n smiled softly as she sat beside Emily. “Hey you.”

“Oh, you’re back.” Emily smiled as she turned her chair to get a better look of y/n.

“Yep, and I come bearing gifts.” Y/n placed an iced coffee in front of her, along with a muffin. “Found our favorite in a local coffee shop.”

Emily smiled softly as she grabbed the muffin. “How did you know I was hungry?” She raised a playful brow as she looked at y/n, grabbing a piece and then offering the muffin to y/n.

“With this heat, everyone is either thirsty, hungry or both. I know I am.” Y/n chuckled as she grabbed a piece of the muffin. “How’s the reading?”

Emily took a sip of her coffee and sighed. “I feel like I’m crossing words now. The AC here is great but I’m going crazy with this heat.”

“Tell me about it. I’m used to the heat, but this is something else.” Y/n leaned back in her chair.

“Yeah, me too.” Emily nodded as she kept eating and drinking her coffee.

Y/n smiled softly as she stared at Emily. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this long with a ponytail. I like it.”

Emily turned back to look at y/n, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Well…it’s my Florida style for the next few days.”

“Hope I get to see it more back home and not only in the field.” Y/n grinned softly as she grabbed her own coffee.

“And what about you? Will I get to see you in a ponytail more often?” Emily grinned back, biting the straw of her coffee.

For the first time, Emily caught a blush on y/n’a cheeks, making her grin grow wider. Y/n cleared her throat as she looked away. “Well…I uh…my hair has been growing so maybe you will.”

“Good, hope so.” Emily grinned as she returned to read the file.

Y/n cleared her throat softly as she grabbed a file and started reading it, completely missing the way Emily looked back at her with a grin on her face. Y/n was not sure if she was sweating because of the heat, or she was sweating because of Emily’s comment and stare. She had been trying to act bold and flirty this whole time, but Emily had finally made her go back to feeling all giddy and shy. She had tried her best to be the one getting Emily to smile and her cheeks to go all red, she was still not sure if Emily just liked the compliments and the way y/n acted or it was for another reason…but in her case, Emily was driving her insane. More now with that beautiful red top that she was wearing today, the way she could see her cleavage…stop right there before you go somewhere you can’t go back from. Y/n shook her head and tried to focus back on the file. Emily would be the death of her.

********************

Y/n groaned softly as she walked into the precinct, throwing her head back as she JJ laughed. She looked back at her and raised her brow. “What you laughing at?”

“You seriously hate heat this much?” JJ laughed.

“Are you kidding me, JJ? I’m seriously considering taking Morgan’s idea and strip down. But thank God for AC.” Y/n smiled softly but then stopped in her tracks as she stood by the door of the conference room, her cheeks suddenly growing even more red.

JJ raised her brow at the reaction and then looked back into the conference, noticing that Emily was standing up and putting some things away. She returned her stare to y/n and grinned. “All good, Carter?”

Y/n swallowed as her eyes widened slightly. “I…uh…”

If the top yesterday had driven her crazy, todays had definitely taken her to heaven and back to earth. Emily was wearing a sleeveless, red shirt that hugged her figure just perfectly, and with the pants that she was wearing plus her hair in a ponytail? Yeah, she was definitely going to lose it right here and right now. She then noticed she had stared for longer than expected and JJ was still by her side.

Y/n looked at JJ and chuckled softly. “I uh…I forgot something at the car.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go back to that hell. And we’re about to leave.” JJ grinned playfully.

“Forgot my phone. Be right back!” Y/n said before she was walking as fast as she could.

Emily looked up to find JJ laughing, making her furrow her brows. “What’s up?”

JJ shook her head as she still laughed. “Nothing, nothing. Need help?”

Emily decided to leave it and they all finished gathering their stuff. They had already prepared everything to go back home, but the jet ended up having some issues which made them have to book another hotel, which ended up being a disaster because they had to share rooms since the hotel was almost completely booked. JJ was quick to ask for a room alone, while Morgan had picked Spencer and Rossi said he’d only share with Hotch, which ended up leaving Emily and y/n on their own. Y/n stared at JJ for a moment, a playful smile on JJ’s face and while y/n was confused, Emily couldn’t help but give JJ a deadly stare, knowing perfectly what she had just done.

Both women headed to their room, not saying a word. Y/n had tried her best not to stare at Emily, trying her best to keep her mind clear of thoughts and to stay as sane as possible, while Emily couldn’t keep her eyes away from y/n, wondering if she had said or done something that made y/n go completely quiet. They walked into the room and y/n went straight to the AC remote, trying to turn it on only to find that it was not working.

“No, you gotta be kidding me!” Y/n groaned as she threw the remote to the bed.

“Oh…no. Is it not working?” Emily sighed as she threw her bag to the floor. “This is great, and I’m sure they don’t have any more rooms available.”

“Guess we’ll have to die in here.” Y/n chuckled as she turned back to look at Emily who was getting rid of her pants, making y/n’s heart stop. “What…w-what are you doing?”

Emily looked up at y/n and shrugged. “I am not about to keep sweating on this pants. Do you mind?”

Y/n swallowed as her eyes darted down to Emily’s legs, noticing the red underwear that she was wearing. Shit. “Uh…n-no. I mean…you’re right. I’ll…I’ll try to call the reception.” She dropped her bag and went to sit on the bed, grabbing the phone from the nightstand.

Emily raised her brow as she walked to the bed where y/n was now sitting, placing her folded pants on the bed, and walking to stand right in front of y/n. “Y/n?” She placed her finger under y/n’s chin to make her look up, grinning softly. “Are you okay?”

Y/n swore her heart stopped right in that moment as Emily stood right in front of her; half naked. “I…you just…I…” she sighed. “I’m a mess.” She chuckled softly.

“The heatwave effect I guess.” Emily chuckled back.

“More like the Emily in red effect.” Y/n mumbled as she looked back at the phone, putting it back.

Emily furrowed her brows as she stared at y/n. “What did you say?”

Y/n knew it was now or never, so might as well be right in this moment. She looked up at Emily. “Did you know that red is definitely your color?”

Emily blushed as a small smile appeared on her face. “You…you think so?”

“Em, have you seen yourself in the mirror You’re…fuck…you’re gorgeous. I mean you’re gorgeous in everything but like…in red? Wow.” Y/n exhaled as she stood up, trying to get more courage to speak.

“You really think that way about me?” Emily grinned softly.

“Have I not been obvious? Because honestly…I feel like I’ve made a fool of myself whenever I’m around you.” Y/n chuckled softly as she tilted her head.

Emily laughed softly as she shook her head. “Are you serious? They’ve been mocking me and making fun of me saying that I get all flustered and soft around you, and only you. Have I not been obvious?”

Y/n smiled widely as she stared into beautiful brown eyes. “I…guess I had an idea, but I was not sure.”

Emily tilted her head as she smiled. “Well, your idea is very right. I…I like you.” She shrugged. “And these last few days…you’ve been driving me insane.”

“I have been driving you insane?” Y/n huffed a chuckle. “I couldn’t think whenever I stared at you.”

Emily laughed again. “So, I guess we drive each other insane.”

Y/n nodded as she laughed slightly. “Seems so.”

Emily bit her lip softly as she stepped closer to y/n, placing her hands on y/n’s neck, one of her hands playing with her ponytail. “And…should we do something about it?”

Y/n grinned as she placed her hands on Emily’s waist, pulling her against her own body. “How does a date sound? When we’re back. I’d like to take you out.”

Emily smiled, feeling the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. “I’d love that.”

Y/n smiled softly as she leaned in, but before their lips could meet, the power suddenly went out, leaving both women in the darkness, the only light came from the moon outside of the window.

“Fucking hell!” Rossi yelled, making both women laugh.

“Guess we’ll have to camp outside.” Y/n chuckled softly as she looked at Emily.

Emily shrugged. “We can meet them in a bit, we were about to do something.”

Both women smiled before they closed the gap between them, their lips pressing against each other’s in a soft, tender kiss. The heat, the sweat and the darkness completely forgotten as their lips moved in perfect sync.

[reiderwriter]

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” 

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 

[sundrop-writes]

Push and Pull

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Summary:

While playing games with Viper, Emily (accidentally) plays on your attraction to her - something you had been trying to hide since you started with the BAU. The results end up being more than interesting.

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension.

Word Count: 2,800 words

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: smut; this is set during Season 4, Episode 9 (52 Pickup) and there is a lot of references to the episode in this, but I think you could read this without having seen the episode; mentions of typically sexist practices - in the form of ‘pickup artistry’: the reader character replaces Jordan Todd on the team; there is an age gap between Emily and the reader - Emily is older and the reader character is younger; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mention of the reader wearing a dress and makeup; the reader has sexual fantasies about Emily - which include: pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, being called 'naughty girl’; most of the sex acts are in fantasies (this fic is mostly tension and build up and sexually adjacent situations rather than actual sex); masturbation (the reader masturbates); mentions of masturbation being unsatisfying or not feeling 'as good’ as having sex with the desired partner; caught masturbating - Emily walks in on the reader; Emily refers to herself as 'Mama’ (once); rough kissing, Emily gropes the reader through clothing, very light choking (from Emily toward the reader) (Emily puts her hand on the reader’s neck and applies pressure for a few seconds to get her attention), Emily calls the reader 'needy little thing’ (in this case the word 'little’ is meant to be condescending and not a description of size); undertones of degradation kink; I believe that is everything.

A/N: This was based on a request, and the original request mentioned fake dating (and I would love to do that trope with Emily), but I couldn’t stop thinking about how stunning and gorgeous Emily looks in this episode, and I thought it would be interesting to use it. Also the idea of a man basing his pickup techniques on women needing male validation when - hey, what kind of women wouldn’t want or need male validation? A woman who is obsessed with the other gorgeous woman at the table. It was such a fun scenario to write about. I definitely wanna write more Emily fics in the future.

...

At first, you really weren’t looking forward to it. 

Though it seemed fun in concept - having an excuse to dress up and go out to a club while on the job - Emily assured you that it was going to be miserable. 

The way Emily talked about the man - Viper. She almost made him sound worse than some of the confirmed killers you had dealt with during your short time at the BAU. She said that he was the scum of the earth, a waste of oxygen, that made her feel dirty just by giving her a weird look. She joked that she was ‘dragging you along’ because she didn’t want to suffer alone (that, and she needed backup, in case the guy truly was dangerous). 

From the way she talked about it, you thought the night was going to be miserable. 

You certainly didn’t expect it to be one of the best nights of your life. 

Viper frequented bars and nightclubs. So of course, nightclub appropriate attire was required. You rushed to a store and grabbed the first tight dress you could find (a red one with spaghetti straps that would pair well with a pair of modest black heels you already had in your bag for the job). You didn’t expect to come back and see Emily getting changed into a clingy black dress that fit her like sin, her makeup subtle but smokey. 

You had been actively suppressing your attraction to her, a gorgeous older woman, since you had joined the BAU a month ago. You told yourself that you could keep your lustful feelings under control because you would only be there temporarily, to replace their usual media liaison - who was on maternity leave. But seeing her dressed up like this, it certainly didn’t help with that suppression. 

Things only got worse when you got to the club and Viper descended upon the two of you. (You quietly whispered to Emily that his name should have been Vulture and the soft laughter she let out had your insides fluttering.) 

Turns out, Emily had been paying extra attention to the ‘push and pull’ technique that Reid had talked about. And even though you knew that it was just in the name of messing with the cocky man - you fell hook, line, and sinker for Emily’s combatants of this technique. 

See, rather than letting him push and pull the two of you - compliment one of you and leave the other one reeling for validation, Emily complimented you herself. She never let Viper leave room for you to need that validation. Not that you would ever need it from someone like him. But she certainly threw him off with this tactic. 

She supported you, focused far more of her attention on you than she did on him. The two of you never fell to the traditional ‘women in constant competition’ market that his techniques were built on. If she put far more of her focus on you and actively ignored him (or even not-so-subtly insulted him), then what could he do? 

Women not vying for his attention? It was a curveball for the ages. 

Clearly, he had no backup plan. He was struggling to keep up. 

If he called your dress cheap, Emily said how well the fabric complimented your amazing body. If he said your mascara was clumpy and poorly done, Emily said your eyes were naturally beautiful and shined bright without makeup anyway. 

The more annoyed it seemed to make him, the more she fawned over you. 

And it left you staring at her all night. Captivated by her beauty, her silky voice. You barely even knew that he was there as she laughed at him, engaged in his silly games, taunted him. 

By the time you left the club, you were almost high on the affection Emily had given you. 

The rest seemed to go by in a blur. The real killer was caught at a different club, and the team retired back to their hotel to get some rest before returning home. As you and Emily walked back to your shared room, you were still laughing and joking about the pathetic man who somehow made his living off of scamming men more pathetic than him. 

“And did - did you see the look on his face when I said ‘you probably go home alone, don’t you?’ - Like he - he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t falling for his BS,” Emily said, stuttering through her words as hardy laughter disrupted her speech. 

“It’s like he’s never met a confident woman in his life.” You replied, a delicate chuckle in your voice. 

It was a subtle compliment toward Emily, admiring her confidence in how well she had dealt with the scummy, overly cocky man. 

“No, not quite.” Emily sighed, using the keycard to open the hotel room door. 

Your insides fluttered even more when she held the door open for you. You couldn’t help but enjoy the domestic feeling behind it as you brushed past her body in order to get inside. 

Of course, she wasn’t even paying attention to the dreamy, starstruck look on your face as she continued speaking. 

“He’s never approached a confident woman before.” She quickly corrected, letting the door fall shut and click locked behind her. “He’s never approached a woman he thought he couldn’t con.” 

“And for some reason he dared you to ‘meet him on his turf’?” You questioned, repeating the words she had told you, when ranting about the previous interaction she had with the awful man. “You, of all people?” 

You had to wonder what about Emily Prentiss would come off as even slightly insecure or - what about her said that she would fall for his stupid tricks. In your opinion, it was like trying to outrun a cheetah using a tricycle. 

“Yeah, I guess he was counting on me being drunk and blinded by all his guyliner.” Emily joked, tossing her bag down onto one of the twin beds. 

You collapsed down onto the other bed with intense laughter. The joke itself was funny, but her delivery, her confidence, and her smile caused a spark through you that forced you to laugh off the tension before you jumped her bones. You had to be professional. You had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“I call the bathroom first.” She announced. “I really need a shower after being drowned in Drakkar Noir all night.” 

You had to ignore the dryness in your throat and the heat between your thighs at the thought of her in the shower. Previously, it was something your mind could have easily glossed over, but after she spent the night fawning over you and capturing your attention completely, it was like you were a horny teenager again. Now all you could think about was her completely naked, droplets of hot water rolling across her skin, surrounded by steam. 

You had to pull yourself together. You had to be professional, for fuck’s sake. 

“But of course.” You told her, giving a smile and a nod. You motioned toward the bathroom, as if presenting it to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’ll probably just shower in the morning.” 

Emily nodded in acknowledgement of this, and there was no further conversation. 

This left your mind reeling, your body entirely tense and hyper aware of her every movement as she got ready. You had to busy yourself with grabbing your pajamas out of your own bag - an oversized X-Files tee shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts - while she grabbed her toiletries bag and went into the bathroom. 

The water turned on and you tried your hardest not to think about her undressing and stepping under the stream as you changed into your pjs. You tried your hardest not to think about her tight, fit body relaxing under the steam. You tried your hardest not to think about soft bubbles rolling across her soft, pale skin. 

Clearly, you were failing. Failing not to think about her. Failing miserably when it came to suppressing your attraction for her. 

By the time you climbed into bed, there was a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You wanted so badly to simply roll over and go to sleep. You wanted to ignore it. But a very large part of you worried that if you didn’t ‘take care’ of that nagging arousal, then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if you didn’t sleep and you rolled into the next day with this attraction to Emily still at the forefront of your mind - then you wouldn’t be able to act normal around her for the travel day home tomorrow. You might say or do something stupid. 

You had to do something. 

The longer you laid there in bed, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, feeling your pussy throbbing between them - thinking about Emily’s head being trapped between your legs - the more it bothered you. 

You had some time while she was in the shower, right? You could be quick. Of course you could. And if you heard the water turn off, you would simply stop. 

Before any true logic could catch up between your ears, a hand was sneaking below the waistband of your shorts. That hand easily went inside your underwear and found a natural place on your throbbing clit. You dipped down into your wetness (leaking out of you abundantly from how much you had been thinking about Emily) and slicked up the hot button before you began rubbing it in hard circles. You were determined to cum quickly and be done with it. 

You closed your eyes and tiled your head back against the pillow, your mind drifting back to her once again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she looked in that ruby lipstick. All night, you had felt jealous of the glass when she brought her drink up to her lips. 

You imagined her approaching you at a bar. 

You would be out by yourself, and she would see you from across the room. So entirely confident, she would see you and in a moment, know that she could have you. 

She would come up behind you, whisper sweetly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked. She would smirk at your initial shyness when you giggled at the compliment. She would tell you that she couldn’t wait to get you home - that she wanted you and she wanted you now. 

So she would pull you into a bathroom, pinning you against a counter. And then she would shove her hand under your dress, only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties, just for her. She would scold you, call you a naughty girl. Her voice so sweet and condescending, only making you wetter. And then she would shove her fingers into your slick cunt and shove her other hand over your mouth, trying in vain to keep your whorish moans from being heard as you begged for her. 

“Emily, please,” You couldn’t stop the faint, needy moan that escaped you as you got lost in the fantasy. 

Of course, so lost in it, that you didn’t hear the shower turning off. 

Your pussy ached, leaking freely into your underwear, and your clit throbbed, emanating a needy pain out through your pelvis. You worked your fingers in more frantic circles, doubling down. Your hips canted up off the bed, knocking the covers off you slightly as dull pleasure radiated out across your hips. 

(Dull compared to what Emily would have given you, you were sure.) 

Even if it was unsatisfactory, you were close. 

“Emily-!” You cried out desperately, right on the edge of orgasm. 

“Hey, do you have some makeup remover I can borrow? I forgot-” 

Shock cascaded through your system and you instantly stilled your movements. This caused your orgasm to become a low hum in your pelvis once again as your eyes shot open in disbelief. 

Your gaze locked onto Emily where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Your insides were still with shock - embarrassment or any other emotion hadn’t even caught up yet. 

Steam ploomed around her and she was forced to hold up the hotel towel with one hand as it couldn’t fully wrap around her body, leaving a sliver of her skin exposed from her armpit to her knee - the curve of her breast, her waist, and her hip on full display. With her hair soaked and her bangs slicked back from her face, and true to what she had said, her makeup still on but slightly smudged from the shower - she looked utterly delicious. 

She was like a pornographic dream, live in front of you. 

You let out a quiet whimper at the sight. 

It was only then that your brain began to unfreeze from the shock, and you realized how truly incriminating you looked. The covers pooled around your thighs, your hand quite visibly inside your shorts, your face contorted with pleasure as your eyes scanned over her half naked body. You rushed to rip your hand out of your underwear - and you realized the sight wasn’t much better as your fingers glistened in the light. 

Emily’s eyes moved from your glistening fingers to your stiff, nervous body, your thighs still parted (as it would be too uncomfortable to clamp them down on your wet underwear and aching cunt). She smirked at you. She looked at you with the same devious, cocky expression that Viper had started out the night with - before she had taken him down notch by notch. 

The look alone caused any apology to be stuck in your throat. You waited for her to speak before you made any moves. 

“What were you thinking about?” She asked, her voice breathy, soft, yet entirely commanding. 

In that moment, caught in the smoldering gate of her eyes, you could find nothing but honesty pounding inside of your chest. 

“You.” You whined quietly. 

Emily chuckled gently. 

Your stomach twisted with embarrassment for the split second that you thought she might be laughing at you. But then you realized that it was, in fact, a sound of satisfaction. 

That realization hit you when she dropped the towel completely. She stood in front of you proudly, showing off all of her naked, wet glory. Her dark nipples pebbling in the air, the damp sheen of water making her skin glow like a dewy goddess. Quite obviously, she wanted you to look.

Your eyes traced a few thick droplets of water as they escaped her hair and ran down her body. You became absolutely mesmerized by the way gravity pulled the water over her collarbones, the teardrop curve of her breasts, the plushness of her stomach, across her pelvis, down her thighs. You imagined yourself tracing over those exact lines with your tongue. 

“Come to me.” 

Her silken voice snapped you out of your trance. Your eyes shot back up to her face once again, and in the sluggish moment that it took the words to get to your brain, she added something onto the command that absolutely knocked the wind out of you. 

“Come on. Come to Mama.” 

Her calling herself that name, so self assured, so certain - the phrase almost had you down on all fours, crawling to her like a dog. 

But instead, you scrambled to get upright and practically ran across the room to her on shaking legs. Entirely eager, you stood in front of her and leaned in to press your mouth against hers. Naturally, you expected that the interaction would start with a kiss. 

But she quickly reached up and stopped you with a hand on the side of your neck. You let out a harsh whimper of disappointment - one that quickly turned into a moan when she pressed her thumb into your windpipe with just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy. 

She was showing you who was in charge. 

“Not so fast,” She told you, her breath cascading against your lips now. 

Although she was completely naked and you were clothed, it was very apparent that she was the one in complete control. 

“Tell me how badly you want it.” She ordered, her voice low and almost gentle - a soft domineering that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up straight. 

“I want it so badly,” You easily replied, your voice intensely needy. “I need it. I need you, Em.” 

Emily reached up with her other hand and - with no warning - harshly gripped your pussy through your underwear and shorts. This caused sharp shocks of arousal to flow through you, making you moan out weakly. It was a dizzying euphoria that had you bucking into her hand. You almost came from that single touch alone. 

“Needy little thing.” She purred. “I am gonna have so much fun with you.” 

This was her last verbal sentiment before she pulled you forward by that hand on your neck and silenced any further moans with a bruising kiss.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoyed the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written here. And if you like my writing style, please check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists for other fandoms.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, sexually charged conversations, teasing/banter. Smut, sex toys, minor bondage, spanking. A guest star of Anthony DiNozzo! I didn't really want to bring in a whole THIRD fandom into this but it ended up working out really nicely and I can play around with it in future chapters too! It feels like it's been ages since I've updated this so clearly the last week was a long one lol. Remember how I said I wanted to be a chapter ahead from now on with my series? Yeah that quickly did not happen. LOL. I'm gonna try to keep up with it, and I promise y'all won't wait longer than a week between chapters, I just need to hunker down and write!

Working for Heather meant that you worked insane hours that could change at the drop of a hat, but it also meant that you could essentially make your own schedule whenever you wanted. You could do most of your job from home or a hotel, as long as you had Wi-Fi you were in the clear, you spent a lot of your time gallivanting around D.C to finish whatever tasks you needed to. Shuffling your schedule around constantly meant that you were more than given the liberty to a Thursday afternoon off and that is exactly why you were meandering down Wisconsin Avenue with Tony in tow. Some of your friends questioned why you always went shopping with him, but the truth was he knew style, understood expensive taste, always told the truth if something looked bad and the entire experience was more efficient. If you went out with your girlfriends on a shopping spree you got dragged into twelve stores you needed nothing from and had to wait while they tried on countless amounts of outfits. With Tony the most that would happen would you’d have some extra browsing time at L. Priori because he got distracted by the watches.

“You got some big White House party coming up or something?” He asked, taking a sip of the coffee you’d bought him earlier.

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder as you picked up the small bag, “no.”

“We’ve done jewels, we’ve done shoes,” he pushed the door open for you, holding it while you crossed through the entry way and back out onto the street, “you dropped off three dresses for alterations and looked through the catalogue of what’s coming in…”

“I just want to revamp my closet a little bit, make sure I’m prepared for summer, you know how many extra garden parties I end up at.”

“And your boss is okay with that amount of cleavage?” He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I got a little carried away doing spring cleaning and tossed half my closet.” You bluffed, “I work so much I forgot I actually wore the other shit and now need to replace it.” Veering off to the side your hand tugged open the door to Jaryam and Tony followed you inside.

“When’s your next date?” He asked with a grin.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“Then why did you just drag me into a lingerie store?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I didn’t drag you anywhere, you love this shit. I just want some new pieces; you’ve got the right eye for colour and the masculine fetishistic imagination to tell me which ones I’ll look the best in.”

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to disagree with you as you made your way further into the shop, he was a pace behind you, fiddling with a price tag when he scoffed and you turned back to him with a raised brow, “I’ve heard you complain about the prices in Victoria’s Secret and that’s got nothing on this, a thong for a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s… about the quality.” You shrugged, “thirty dollars for a scrap of fabric that falls apart in a month made in a sweatshop isn’t a good investment.” You picked up the pair that he was looking at, reading through the tag, “something hand stitched made with quality fabric that’s going to last? Worth it.”

“Hmm.” He replied, surveying you for a minute as you put the thong back on the rack, “you know, I noticed when you picked up the coffee that you used a black card…”

“You’re really working those sleuthing skills today, aren’t ya?” You teased back with a grin, moving onto a wall of lace bras.

“It’s not exactly a difficult mystery.” He smirked, following you, “fancy shoes, nice jewels, new clothes, expensive lingerie,” you turned back to face him, an unimpressed look on your face and he practically caged you into the wall, “who’s your daddy?”

“Ew, Tony, fuck off.” You groaned, shoving at his chest as he laughed, “coffee and meals can be turned into a write off. I used Heather’s card.”

“Bah! Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just run your financials when I get back to the office.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “they call you a very Special Agent DiNozzo?”

“Why yes, yes they do.” He smiled, getting a little smug about it and you shook your head at him.

“Then explain to me how running my financials would let you in on whose card I’m using.” You asked, watching as he opened his mouth to give you some witty response but he couldn’t find one, gaping for a minute before he let out a defeated huff and you tugged him in the other direction, “now c’mon, I know you have a good eye for lingerie.”

“Now that, I will not deny.” He replied with a smile and you did roll your eyes as he followed you deeper into the shop.

You combed through practically every shelf in the place, trying to figure out what kind of styles you were going to settle on before Tony started to share his opinions. He reminded you how good blue looked on you when you picked up a soft pink set and suggested the lace florals over lace butterflies. You were narrowing it down between a handful of choices and he was quick to intervene when he noticed you were eliminating all the variation.

“Wait,” he cut in, swiping the one you were trying to put back on the shelf, “keep that one. Get rid of this one.” He plucked the peach set from your collection, tossing it into the return pile.

“It’s cute!” You protested.

“Exactly. Everything you’re keeping is ‘cute’, you’re playing it too safe and I know that’s not you. The lilac one is the nicest, little hint of lace for a bonus, so get it.” He started flicking through the rack you had your favourites on, ��keep the teal one for the crystals, plus it matches that pair of heels you bought. The rest of this batch can go but add these to your buying list.” He picked up a lacy black and red set that was mostly see through and included a garter belt, handing it off to you, and a gorgeous deep green set. “That’ll look great with your skin,” his brow furrowed for a second as he examined it, “wait it’s not your size, you’re what?” His eyes were suddenly on you and you groaned,

“Stop staring at my tits.” You stated dryly as he turned around, grabbing another one of the green set from the shelf.

“Thirty four C, right?”

“I don’t know whether I should be impressed or grossed out that you were able to figure that out.”

“They don’t call me Very Special Agent DiNozzo for nothing.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to go try these on.” You scooped up the remaining sets, “not for your viewing pleasure! Occupy yourself.”

You weren’t surprised in the least when all of Tony’s recommendations were right and you were happy to be leaving with a variety of options. Returning from the dressing room you found him near the till looking through accessories and he shot you a cocky grin as you placed all of his choices down on the counter. You shuffled the shopping bags in your hand over to the other one,

“Can you hold this?” You asked, handing him your purse as you pulled Emily’s card from within it, passing it off to the cashier. Once the purchase was completed and the cashier was wrapping up the lingerie, she placed the card down on the counter and out of the corner of your eye you saw Tony making a move for it, managing to swipe it up before he could get to it.

“Hey!” You swatted the back of his head and he grimaced.

“Ow. That was worse than Gibbs.” He muttered.

“You fuck around and you’ll find out.” You returned but he was too busy on his phone to really pay attention.

You took your purse back from him, tossing it over your shoulder as you thanked the clerk and added the bag of lingerie to the others with your shopping and the two of you made your way back onto the street. You jumped when Tony’s fingers prodded at your side, digging into your ribs.

“C’mon… let me know something, please.” He batted his eyes at you, “I just helped you pick lingerie; I deserve to know something. Doctor? Artist? App developer? Congressman?”

“Nope, nope, nope and hard nope.” You replied with a huff and he groaned so you finally turned back to him, stalling in your steps, “what I will tell you, is that she most definitely outranks NCIS, so you can officially drop it.”

“Ohoho… a new lady friend…” It was his turn to slow in his tracks, eyes lingering in the window of the next shop, “you need any special accessories for that?”

“Tony you’re insane if you think I’m taking you into a sex toy store.”

“Meh, doesn’t really matter since you’ve already covered that step.” He grinned and your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Swiped your phone and went through your emails.” With a laugh he tossed the device back to you as you let out a gasp, “peach flavoured lube, nice. Nipple clamps? Kinky, didn’t realize you were into that kinda pain.” That earned him a hard punch on the arm, “but that double sided dildo with vibration? Now that sounds like a real party.”

“Anothony DiNozzo!” You scolded and he let out a small whine of a scoff, gesturing toward the sex store.

“I’m the perfect person to give sex toy recommendations, c’mon.” He protested and you sighed.

“Tony. You are a straight man. What could you possibly known about sex toys for me to use with another woman?”

“One of those wand things, Hibachi?”

“That’s Japanese barbecue, but nice try.”

“The wands!”

“You’re going for Hitachi.”

“Close enough!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, “the big one’s better but I think they sell smaller ones too, more portable.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you sighed.

“Think? Tony, pull your head outta your ass. Any self respecting person with a clit already owns one of those.”

“Really?” He smirked at you and you did your best not to groan.

“I’ve got three, a mini pink, a mini green and the big one, which yes, is far superior. Can we go now?”

“Fine.” He groaned, feigning annoyance, “you dragging me to a nail appointment next?”

“No, I was gonna buy you a late lunch.”

“You were? Or is your mommy dearest gonna buy lunch.” He exaggerated the word, nearly moaning as he said it and you immediately grimaced.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Yup, that one felt wrong coming out. My bad, that’s on me.”

**

Emily turned down dessert service, asking for the cheque instead as she gave the server a soft smile, picking up her cocktail once again as she turned back to you. In turn, you finished your drink, placing the glass down on the table as you stood, your hand coming to squeeze at Emily’s thigh softly as your lips brushed against her cheek.

“Give me a five minute head start, I’ve got a surprise for you.” You scooped up your phone, shooting Emily a wink as you sauntered away from the table in the direction of the elevator.

Her eyes followed you through the entrance of the lounge, narrowing in on your ass as you pushed the elevator button and the sparks began to fly through her body. It hadn’t been a particularly long week, but it was very safe to say that you had been on her mind more often than not. Images of your naked body strewn across the bed floating into her brain, making her cheeks flush while she was torturously bored with paperwork. A too long tedious conference call lead to her zoning out, daydreaming all the things she wanted to do to you, the noises you made echoing through her mind. It was almost a given that night that she had a rather self soothing shower when she got home, pulling her laptop out when she finally crawled into bed to take a look at what fun things she could buy to occupy your time with in the future weekends.

Emily settled the bill, slowly draining the rest of her cocktail until she was certain she’d given you enough time to do whatever it was you had planned before she finally left the restaurant. The key card beeped against the lock and she stepped inside the suite, letting the door swing shut behind her before she made sure it was locked. She stepped out of her heels, dropping her purse on the side table in the entry way before rounding the bed into the suite, catching a glimpse of you laid out on the bed and her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Well that certainly is a welcome sight.”

“Yeah?” You asked, sitting up and shifting onto your knees, “you see something you like?”

“I see plenty I like.” She walked up to the foot of the bed as you crawled on your knees to greet her, your hands settling on her hips as one of hers curled around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers for a kiss.

Her tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a satisfied groan, both of you relaxing into the kiss, lips dancing with grace against each other. Her hand slipped into your hair, pulling out the pins to let it fall loose around your shoulders, pulling at it lightly. When her teeth scraped against your lip you couldn’t help but moan, your hands drifting up her body as you slowly began to unbutton her shirt. She broke the kiss to help you untuck the fabric from her pants, letting it drop to the floor behind her before her fingers began to trace the lines of the teal lingerie set, floating over the gems decorating your chest.

“You like the crystals?” You asked, small grin on your lips and she nodded.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re Swarovski.” You replied with a near smirk and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“You really went all in, hey?”

“Just wanted to make sure I looked nice and pretty for you.” You shrugged coyly and she chuckled, giving you a once over.

“Well you do.” She leant down, kissing you gently before her hands nudged at your shoulders, “you’re not the only one who brought something fun, lie back princess.”

“I noticed.” You replied, a gleam in your eye as you dropped into the pillows, an arm extending to the nightstand where you picked up a silk tie, “multifaceted, curious as to what your intentions are.”

“First…” Emily rounded the side of the bed, “I want to see what’s under that gorgeous bra.” She nodded at you and you sat up, hands flying behind you to unclip it, gently tossing it to the side, “good girl.” She plucked the fabric from your hands, picking up a longer one from the nightstand before kneeling on the bed. “Give me your hands.” She instructed and you held your hands out for her, wrists gently pressed together as she began to wind the fabric around them, “is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” You replied, looking up at her with darkening eyes as she tightened the silk.

“Do you have a word?”

“I’m fond of peach.”

“Perfect.” With a wicked grin she placed a gentle kiss on your wrist before guiding you to lie back with your arms over your head and she looped the shorter piece through your bonds, securing the other end to the golden bar of the headboard. “No surprises there.” She purred as she slid off the bed, letting out a satisfied hum as her eyes dragged over your body.

“Hm?” You raised a brow, watching as she moved back to a spare chair.

“Just how pretty you look tied up like that.” Emily tossed a grin over her shoulder, “but you are going to need to roll over for the second part of your treat.”

You nearly let out a whine when her hands came to her belt buckle, eager to be able to see both what was coming next and what she had under her clothes. Instead of risking it you decided to behave, rolling onto your stomach, your arms stretching over your head as you twisted it to the side, just barely able to see Emily under your arm. She had busied herself with getting rid of her clothing, a neat pile forming on the small bench next to her bag as she pulled out the strap, swiftly stepping into it and securing it around her hips. Your mouth was practically watering already and then she reached into her bag again, pulling out a crop with a cute little heart on the end and you had to hold back a moan.

Emily could see the way your body tensed, how your hips ground down into the bed as she reapproached it and a dark chuckle escaped her lips. Kneeling on the bed behind you her hand grasped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart and you did your best to arch your back, presenting yourself to her.

“Such obedience.” She murmured, letting the crop lightly trace up your inseam as you let out an airy breath.

Emily slowly trailed the crop up and down your legs, just the slightest hint of touch that she knew you were absolutely begging for in your head. She could see the way your body twitched whenever it got close to the heat between your legs and a wicked grin took over her lips. The crop finally came up over the swell of your ass, softly circling and tracing patterns on your skin and you finally let out a whine. Since this was the first time you’d actually made a louder noise, Emily figured this was the time to both give in and start to really tantalize you now. She raised the crop, swatting it down onto your ass and you let out a low moan.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You eagerly nodded into the pillows and the crop trailed across to the other cheek, repeating the circles before coming down harder on that side and your breath caught in your throat.

“Ohh…” Your fingers interlaced, squeezing tightly, “harder, please.”

“My little princess likes it rough.” Emily husked from behind you, “somehow I’m not that surprised.”

The crop came down on the same spot harder than the first before she flicked it over your other cheek, swatting just as hard, watching the way your body reacted, jolting at the touch before grinding your cunt down onto the bed. She brought the head of the crop between your legs, pushing the fabric of your panties into your pussy, rubbing the leather up and down your folds as you moaned, arching into the touch.

“Fuuckk…”

Emily chuckled darkly, bringing the crop up before hitting your ass with more force, smirking at the louder moans leaving your lips, the way you were pulling against your bonds, wishing your hands were free. The sounds of the spanks echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as your moans grew louder and longer, every time the crop was brought down onto your body it grew from a tingle to a pleasurable burn. Emily continued to trail the leather across your skin, occasionally her hand gently rubbing across the spot to sooth the burn, little praises and coos leaving her lips. The tingles each time she spanked you began to build, growing together with each hit of the crop until there was a fire building right under your skin, whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you buried your face into the pillows. Every swat of the crop made your entire body shiver and you were nearly about to start begging for more when she moved it back between your legs.

“You really like this, hmm?” She asked, pressing it against your cunt again, “making such a big wet spot on these nice panties.” She rubbed it harder against you, watching the way your wetness continued to soak the fabric, “you know, I’d take them off and stuff them in your mouth if you didn’t make such pretty noises…”

You groaned softly, your hips rocking back toward the touch, a little whimper leaving your throat when the crop nearly rubbed against your clit. Emily hummed softly, lifting the crop up before bringing it back down, this time onto your pussy and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped you.

“Oh fuucck…” Your head buried deeper into the pillows, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing, your clit nearly pulsing already, juices smearing across your underwear.

Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, flipping you onto your back watching as your legs instinctively fell open for her to see the growing wet spot on your panties. She brought the crop back to your cunt, rubbing it harder against you as you started to whine, resulting in another swat that brought a gasp from your lips.

“You like this even more, don’t you princess?” She asked with a grin and you nodded, “you want your pussy spanked too?” Spank. “Think you can come from just this?” Spank.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “more, please.”

“Always such nice manners.” She praised, her fingers slipping into the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing it behind her. Her hands soothed up your legs, spreading them even further apart from each other as her thumbs dared to brush the edges of your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy. God you’re just fucking drenched already.”

Emily picked the crop back up, rubbing it through your slick folds, pressing harder as she brought it to your clit.

“Please.” You whimpered and she chuckled softly.

The first hit was on the gentle side, her eyes tracing up your naked body, watching your face for any sign of discomfort but all she found was a look of sheer pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open as breathy moans escaped them, it was all she needed to bring the crop down even harder the next time.

“Fuck.” Your body twitched off the bed, cunt pulsing as more juices dribbled out of it.

“That’s it princess.” Spank. “You’re doing so good for me.” Spank.

“Oh god…” Your hands clutched at the silk ties as your body shivered, pleasure building higher and higher with each time the crop hit your cunt.

“I know you’re close.” Spank. “Just a few more.” Spank. “Pussy’s so wet.” Spank. “Let go for me.” Spank.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your back arching off the bed, pulling against the restraints as your orgasm shot through you, pussy pulsating around nothing as your juices dripped onto the bedspread.

“That’s it.” Emily cooed, the crop gently rubbing against your cunt, smearing your wetness all around it and your thighs. “So pretty when you come for me.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “need you.”

“You want more?” She asked, gently spanking your pussy again and you whined.

“No, please! Need your cock.” You were absolutely begging, pussy fluttering, feeling so entirely empty. Despite the powerful orgasm you needed to be filled, stretched around Emily to finally feel completely satisfied.

“So needy tonight.” Emily teased, dropping the crop to the side as she climbed over you, running the tip of the toy through your folds, “this what you want?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously, “please.”

“Alright.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, knowing you were absolutely drenched she sunk her cock fully into you until her hips met yours and you let out a very satisfied moan. She pulled back just enough to sneak her hand between your bodies, turning on the vibration on the base of the toy, just against her clit and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, pulling out until just the tip was left inside you and set a steady pace, fucking you thoroughly. Each thrust of her hips had your body twitching up off the bed, pulling against your restraints as you ached to touch her, pleasure shooting through your limbs.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “feels so good.”

Each thrust of her cock the head brushed right over your g-spot, pulling louder moans from you each time as your pussy began to clench down around her. You could feel your juices smearing across both of your bodies as she fucked deeper into you, picking up the pace as she knew you were getting close again.

“Are you going to come again for me angel?” She cooed, her hands gliding up your body to toy with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in time with her thrusts.

“S-s’close.” You moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet hers with each thrust.

Your hands tugged against the silk ties again, gasping when Emily’s lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to flick patterns across it. The double, nearly triple sensation if you counted the vibrations hitting your clit each time your bodies met was nearly too much, your pussy making almost more noise than the ones coming from your mouth. All you could do was whimper and whine, your head too fuzzy to get actual words to come out, the coil inside you got tighter and tighter until Emily’s teeth sunk into your chest and it burst through you.

“Fuck!”

Your body trembled, the tingles shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes as Emily continued to fuck you. Her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a low swear, now focused on chasing her own release. She sunk fully into you, pressing the vibrating part of the toy directly against her clit and it gave you the opportunity to roll your hips against hers, grinding the base harder onto her. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your eyes scrunched shut, another orgasm bursting through you from the sensation and Emily let out a soft cry.

“Oh god.” Her hand slipped between your bodies, switching the vibrations off before she sat up.

Emily panted slightly, attempting to catch her breath as she reached out, swiftly undoing the ties and your arms were finally free to drop to the bed. You let out a soft groan, flexing your hands before Emily caught them in hers, examining your wrists to make sure you hadn’t pulled too hard and hurt yourself. Once satisfied that you hadn’t she let them drop and shifted on her knees, slipping out of you and watching your juices dribble onto the bed.

“Mmm…” you sighed, your lips curving up into a grin.

“What?” She asked with a raised brow.

“That was hot.” You replied, “kinda wish you could come inside me though.”

“Well…” she leant over you, kissing you before nipping at your lower lip, “I’m sure that can be arranged for next time.”

_____________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[section-chief-prentiss]

'tis the damn season

Summary: You bring a fake date to make your ex-girlfriend, Emily, jealous at your high school reunion. But you’re taken by surprise to learn that she did exactly the same thing. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader, JJ/Will LaMontagne 

Word Count: 2669

Ao3

You stood in front of your bed, where half a dozen dresses lay, scrutinizing your options. You weren’t sure how long you stood like that, half-naked, hands on your hips, but a knock at the door pulled you out of your indecision.

You’d tried on each dress countless times, and none of them felt right. But they were the only options you had.

You wanted to look amazing—no, better than amazing, stunning—when you reunited with your ex-girlfriend, Emily, at your class reunion tonight. You started dating not long after Emily transferred to your high school during your junior year, and your relationship lasted almost all the way through college. When neither of you was sure what your future laid for you, it seemed easier to figure it out apart.

And you hadn’t spoken since.

You hadn’t wanted to come to your reunion at all, but your friend, Wren, was in charge of organizing it, and you asked her to let you know if Emily RSVP’d. Shortly after she did, you did the same.

You threw on the black, lacy dress—black was always safe, you figured—before grabbing your heels and rushing to let in your date for the evening. 

You opened your door to find Will LaMontagne, his dark hair styled and light eyes sparkling. He was dressed in a bright blue button-down and slacks, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Come on in,” you said, stepping aside. “You look great.”

“So do you,” he drawled in his thick, New Orleans accent. “Your sister said this color blue would… bring out your eyes?”

The earnest confusion in his voice earned a genuine laugh from you. Will’s brother and your sister had gotten married last year, and ever since they got engaged, they kept pushing you and Will together, hoping that you’d fall in love.

While neither of you felt that way about each other, you had found a best friend in Will. A confidante.

So when you needed a fake date for your ten-year high school reunion, he offered freely.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” you said, for what was probably the hundredth time. “High school reunions are a drag under the best of circumstances.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he joked. “Plus, I do get something out of it. We get to tell our siblings we gave it a real shot. Maybe after this, they’ll leave us alone.”

The other deception of the night, aside from Will pretending to be your boyfriend to make your ex jealous, was telling your siblings this was a date. At the end of the night, you’d tell them you were better off as friends and hope they finally left you both alone.

“I brought a tie,” Will said, taking a patterned blue tie out of his pocket. “Is this a tie event?”

You stuck your tongue out in a disgusted face, which earned a laugh from Will. “I didn’t think so, but I didn’t go to my high school reunion, so I wanted to be sure.”

“Don’t change a thing,” you said, reaching for your purse. You were equal parts itching to get out the door and hoping you didn’t arrive too early. 

“Should we go?” Will asked, sensing your nerves.

You smiled gratefully. “Please.” 

***

A silver lining to the evening was that the reunion wouldn’t take place at your actual high school. Instead, Wren and the rest of the planning committee rented out the ballroom at The Plaza downtown, a hotel you’d always been curious to see the inside of. 

The lobby itself had your jaw on the floor. An ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Below it, on the floor, was a sparkling fountain. Gold pillars plunged from the floor to the ceiling, and the perfectly placed white and gold couches and chairs felt too pretty to sit on. Against the far wall were the check-in desks, with perfectly maintained attendants standing behind them. 

“This place is too fancy for me,” you murmured.

Will chuckled. “Fake it ‘til you make it.”

A sign posted near an adjoining hallway pointed toward a room you couldn’t see, with Roosevelt High School Reunion written across it.

“Must be this way,” Will said.

“Your detective skills tell you that?” You joked.

Ignoring the jab, Will led you down the hall and toward the ballroom, music already floating out to meet you. You smiled, recognizing it as one of Wren’s favorites, and wondered how much of her influence you’d hear in the music tonight.

You were pleasantly surprised to find the ballroom relatively crowded when you entered. Decorations with your school’s colors—royal blue and silver—draped from the ceiling, colored the tablecloths, and reflected in the centerpieces, but it wasn’t over-the-top. You had to admit it—you were impressed. 

“You made it!” A familiar voice trilled.

You turned to find Wren, dressed in a vibrant pink dress, scampering toward you, arms out to embrace you. You opened your arms just in time to receive her and held her tight.

“Wren, this place looks incredible,” you gushed.

When she pulled away, she was blushing. “Well, thanks, doll. You guys look great.”

“Oh! Wren Taylor, Will LaMontagne Jr. Will LaMontagne Jr., Wren Taylor.”

“Date?” Wren whispered.

You laughed. “No, just a good friend. Unless you see Emily, then… date.”

Wren rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“When you told me she RSVP’d with a plus one, I couldn’t exactly show up here alone, could I?”

“Yes, you could, actually,” she said. Her eyes widened, focusing on something behind you. “Speaking of…”

You stiffened—sensing her presence before you saw her. Even after being separated for six years, you still recognized the buzzing in the air you felt when she was around.

You braced yourself as you turned toward the entrance to the ballroom, and her beauty took your breath away.

Emily’s dark hair was curled, and she’d grown her bangs out. She wore a white dress and black heels, and your heart skipped a beat.

She was stunning. And you were feeling very plain in comparison. 

But then you spotted her hand in someone else’s and froze. Because next to her was a beautiful woman with blonde hair pulled back in a high, curled ponytail and a light blue skirt and white blouse. 

They matched, you realized, the sensation a punch to your gut.

Seeing Emily with her partner reminded you of your mission, and you reached for Will’s hand instinctively, who was waiting to take yours. 

“It’s now or never,” you muttered, sounding braver than you felt. Will’s advice from earlier rung in your head—fake it ‘til you make it. 

You made your way toward the other couple, meeting them halfway, using each step to force a smile across your face before you reunited.

“Y/N!” Emily said, not letting go of her partner’s hand. “You look great.”

“So do you,” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking. “This is Detective Will LaMontagne Jr., my date.” 

He reached his free hand forward to shake both of the other women’s. “Pleasure,” he said.

“This is my date, Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer Jareau,” Emily countered. Were you imagining it, or was she putting emphasis on supervisory? 

“JJ,” the woman said, offering her own hand. You shook it, fighting to not squeeze it too hard.

It didn’t escape you how Will’s gaze lingered on JJ a second longer than you expected. 

“You know, that color brings out your eyes,” Will drawled, gesturing to her vibrant skirt. 

You bit back a smile from spreading across your face and embarrassing him. 

“Thanks,” JJ flushed. 

“Special Agent?” You asked, calling Emily’s attention away from Will’s attempt at flirting before he blew your cover completely. “So, you chose the FBI after all?”

“Not at first,” Emily hedged. “It’s a long story.”

“Right,” you said. And not one you were entitled to anymore.

Wren, ever your savior, marched over to talk with Emily, and you used that moment to excuse yourself with Will. 

He led you onto the dance floor as a slow song came on, and you were grateful for the distraction. You took one of his hands and placed the other on his shoulder, letting him lead you.

“Should we come up with a safe word in case you want to leave early?” Will asked.

You smiled. “That’s okay, but thanks, Will.”

One song bled into another until you lost track of how long you’d been dancing. You kept your focus on Will because you knew if you watched Emily and JJ for too long, your heart would shatter completely, washing away your carefully crafted facade.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” you said, dryness scratching your throat. “Want anything?”

He shook his head. “I’m okay, thanks.”

You made your way toward the bar—an open bar, which was half of the reason you agreed to come at all—just as the last person in line got their drink and walked away.

“Old fashioned, please,” you said.

The bartender nodded, and you fished a few dollars out of your purse for the tip jar. 

“Make that two,” said a familiar voice.

Your back stiffened, and you glanced over to find Emily standing next to you. 

“Having a good time?” Emily asked, throwing in a few dollars of her own to the tip jar.

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yeah, Wren did a great job.” You glanced around, surprised to find her partner nowhere in sight.

“No JJ?” 

“She had to take a call,” Emily shrugged. “The job follows us sometimes.”

“Here you go,” the bartender said, holding out both drinks.

You thanked him and wandered away to make room for other patrons. To your surprise, Emily followed. 

“Do you like it? The FBI?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“It’s rewarding,” Emily said. “Difficult, but rewarding.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say to that, and took a sip of your drink.

“How’s your photography business going?” Emily asked, and you startled, nearly choking on your cocktail.

“How’d you know I have a photography business?” 

Emily flushed. “I’ve kept up with your career over the years. Is that such a surprise?”

Yes, you thought. You’d considered doing the same countless times over the years, but you knew if you tracked her down in any capacity, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from reaching out. It was easier, less painful, to wonder instead. 

“I guess not,” you whispered.

“So? How’s it going?”

You sighed, setting your drink down on a nearby table. “What are you doing, Em?”

She frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Are we just acting like nothing happened? Like we didn’t have a fight the day before graduation? Like you didn’t ditch the ceremony the next day and never talk to me again? I just need to know what page we’re on here if we’re going to pretend.”

Emily set her drink down near yours. “Y/N…”

“I thought seeing you again would make me feel better,” you said. “But I’m not sure it was such a good idea anymore.”

Emily started to speak, but you turned on a heel and beelined for the hallway. Tears were brimming in your eyes, and you’d rather run than have her see you fall apart.

The hallway outside the ballroom was still too public, so you didn’t stop until you were safely around the corner. You took a deep breath, collecting yourself, and wiping away the hints of tears in your eyes before they could fall. You wouldn’t lose it. Not here, at least. That could wait until you got home later.

A hand on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Jesus, Will, announce yourself…” you chastised. But when you turned, it wasn’t Will.

It was Emily.

“Are you everywhere?” you snapped. “Go back to your date; I’m sure she’s wondering where you went.”

“I could say the same about your date.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what this is about? Fine, Will’s not my date. He’s my friend; I brought him to make you jealous. Happy?”

“Actually, yes,” she said, stepping toward you.

You frowned. “Wait… what?”

Emily took a deep breath. “I was immature in high school. That doesn’t excuse what I did, but I think it explains a few things.” 

“So?”

“So,” Emily continued, “Our futures were pulling us in two different directions. And I didn’t want to go in two different directions. Y/N, I would’ve followed you anywhere, my own ambitions be damned, and I knew if I showed up to graduation, I’d do just that. If I apologized for the fight we’d had, I would’ve wanted to spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. And one of us would’ve made sacrifices for the other, and we would’ve ended up hating each other in the end. So it was easier to just… run.” 

You laughed bitterly. “That wasn’t your decision to make, Em. We should’ve talked about that together.”

“Can you tell me I’m wrong? That one of us wouldn’t have given up our dream career for the other?”

You opened your mouth to argue but clamped it closed when you realized you couldn’t. Because she was probably right.

“Exactly. So watching from afar as you accomplished everything you dreamed of… I considered that a consolation prize. If I looked at the pictures long enough, it was like I was there with you.”

You blew out a long breath. “Em, you can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re with JJ now, and it’s not fair to be with her and say these things to me.”

Emily took another step closer; she was only a breath away now. You took a step back, but you were against the wall now, and Emily closed the gap between you immediately.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not with JJ,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck.

Your knees wobbled, and it took every ounce of willpower not to reach out for the woman who still owned your heart.

“What?” Your head was spinning, and you weren’t sure you could trust your hearing. 

“I lied,” she said, planting kisses from your neck up to your face. “To make you jealous. She’s just a friend.”

You grabbed Emily’s shoulders and turned so it was her against the wall. “You’re not in a relationship?”

Emily smiled. “Not since we broke up. You’re the only one I want. If you’ll have me.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you grinned, crashing your lips against hers. Every nerve in your body felt like a live wire; Emily’s touch was electric. 

She buried her hands in your hair, and you shivered. How were you ever apart from this woman? The thought seemed unbearable now.

“You know,” Emily said, pulling away just long enough to speak. “I have a room. Upstairs.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, kissing her again. “Don’t tempt me, Emily Prentiss.”

“We should tell our dates we’re leaving so they don’t worry,” Emily whispered. “And then I’m going to spend every minute of tonight making up for the last six years.”

“Fine, but let’s hurry,” you agreed.

Hand in hand, you practically ran back into the ballroom, praying that Will and JJ wouldn’t be hard to find. 

Blissfully, you got your wish—you both staggered to a halt when you found your dates on the dance floor together, arms wrapped around each other, kissing like they were the only two people in the room.

“Huh,” you said. “I have to say, I didn’t see that coming.”

“She said I owed her for dragging her to a high school reunion that wasn’t her own,” Emily mused, lacing her hand through yours. “I think I’ll consider that debt repaid.” 

You giggled. “Can we go now?” 

“I’ll follow you anywhere you want.”

You brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “Let’s start with tonight. Everything else can wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Emily nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

Tag List: @yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss Join my tag list! 

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 7

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 3,724 of 19,250

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The festivities start before the sun sets. I watch as it sinks below the horizon, a fat red apple amongst the crooked charred tops of green houses and shops. Its dying light falls gently on the shoulders of ladies and gentlemen as they arrive, like a glowing kiss of welcome as strokes of real gold, gold that could be minted, bathe their cheeks and laughter-filled smiles. They arrive in pairs, by themselves, in whole parties that tumble out of stuffed carriages. I watch from the window of my room, having already been done up for an hour at that point. I have dragged the vanity stool over to the window so that I can watch better. Anything to pass the time as I wait for the inevitable final guest of the party: myself.

I have no desire or intent to go down to the feast because I knew that he would be there: the Wizard. Every stroke of the makeup brushes this afternoon felt like porcupine bristles being dragged across the skin of my cheeks, eyelids, and lips. The lips had stung the worst, right in the spot where he had touched his thumb. It was embarrassing really, the way I fell for it all. Emily didn't know anything about what had happened in the throne room, but her words from weeks ago echoed in my head as she wound locks of my hair around the hot iron. You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid. The fact that I wasn't the first one was what was eating at me. Was this the kind of treatment that they got? How many had there been before me?

I shake my head at that. No, not before me. I am not a part of any line of women who would sleep with the Wizard, and I do not want to be any part of that line. I'm sure he has needs that are natural to his human body, just the same as he needs to bathe or dress or sleep, but I refuse to think of him like that. It feels disrespectful to even think that he could be so carnally biased that sleeping with him would earn you a higher rank and station, rather than merit.

The thought of him brushing my lips stings me again and I wince, getting up from the window and throwing myself on the bed. There is something about watching the guests arrive that is causing my mind to lose itself, fixating on... I grit my teeth as I push my face into the pillow, not even trying to protect the curls Emily had set or the makeup that had been painted. The cotton pillow is soft against my made-up face and when I try to breathe in, my lungs are confused by the lack of oxygen. Good. If I knock myself out maybe I'll get out of the whole thing altogether.

There is a knock at the door and I dig my claws into the comforter. It's only been a few minutes since Emily left the room and already someone is coming to bother me. I breathe in the pillow quicker, hoping to speed up the process. There's the sound of the door opening and then an unexpected voice.

"You planning to fall through the floor to get to the party?" Bruno says. He bats at my shoe. "C'mon. He wants you downstairs."

What? So he can embarrass me? It was one thing when we were in the darkness of the control room, or even teasing remarks in front of Humak, but to do it in front of hundreds of strangers? "I'm not going," I muffle into the pillow.

"I don't know what you said, but you'd better get up before I make you," he says.

I turn my head just enough and find myself involuntarily sucking in clean air. "I said 'I'm not going', okay? You can't make me."

"For Oz's sake," he says, and then he yanks me by the ankle as I squeak in protest. "This is the hill you're going to die on? A stupid party is worth your sister's life?" He yanks me once more and I tumble to the floor, the wind going out of me in a yelp.

"No! I'll run away!" I say, scrambling to my feet. I say this, despite never having thought about it before or knowing how I would survive outside of the Emerald City with no money and a second mouth to feed. I don’t even know how I would get out of the palace without a guard stopping me.

"You look fine," he says. "Now, let's go."

"No," I say.

"What the hell is wrong with you?” he says “You see a ghost or something? There's food downstairs and drinks and dancing.” Dancing. The thought of the Wizard's hands on me again, the knowledge that I'd fall for it again like an idiot... The Wizard had magic in more ways than one.

"I don't want to dance," I say, "...with strangers, that is. Have you seen the Arjiki guards? They're frightening." They aren't, but it's better than confessing my relational problems to no-nonsense Bruno. What would he know of... whatever the Wizard and I were?

"Well, then you can dance with me then," he says.

I blink, having never considered the possibility before. The party would be better than hiding in my room upstairs because I would have an excuse to not see the Wizard. How could he dance with me if I filled my entire dance card with other people? Up here I ran the risk of him slipping away from the party to come torment me in private. "You mean it?" I ask. Bruno simply offers his arm, and I take it.

We take our time walking down to the Grand Ballroom. I ask Bruno how Leo is doing. Apparently, he got in trouble at school the other day for beating a kid up on the playground. I ask him if the kid deserved it and he laughs, asking me about Fileah instead. There's nothing new to report back besides telling him I'm trying to be on my best behavior so I can see her again. We don't talk about the riot. I hope Fileah has stopped talking about it by herself as I hadn't had the chance to tell her to. The Wizard has been keeping me busy with etiquette assignments and other stupid tasks that seem to take up the whole day past when visiting hours are over. As we enter the Grand Ballroom, I can feel the puzzle piece of the confusing social training click into place and realize that he had this party planned for a while and was truly planning to surprise me.

Tulle and taffeta skim across the floor in coiling circles as partners guide them along, sometimes breaking off and weaving in and out of the ladies and gentlemen, all the while laughing. Toward the front of the room parallel to the wall, and on the dais there are tables laden with food. As we draw closer I can see suckling pigs that have been roasted until bronzed, the skin pulled so tight that you could taste the way it would crackle in your mouth without ever sinking your teeth into it. There are turkeys that have been herbed and stuffed and are twice the size of the biggest one I've ever seen. In between the meats are bowls so big that you would have to carry them with both arms filled with buttered turnips, roasted brussel sprouts, sugared beets, whipped and airy potatoes, and several others that I ignore once I see the towers of desserts. The guests who are not dizzying themselves with merriment have taken seats along these tables, filling their plates with any and all of the offerings.

The table on the dais is packed. Fiyero, Humak, and some of their guards that I had seen earlier are seated on the left, a few strangers are seated on the right, and in dead-center there’s him. The Wizard's lips are pressed together in a hard line, goblet draped lazily in hand, and an empty seat beside him. His eyes are scanning the room, and I know he is looking for me.

"This was a mistake," I say, pressing against Bruno to try and get past him.

"I'll be here and ready to dance with you when it's time," he says reassuringly. He takes my wrist which now has a dance card attached to it. Someone must have slipped it on me while I was salivating over the food. Quickly, he pencils his name into two or three slots – I'm not sure how many as I'm watching the Wizard stare at me, not once breaking the gaze – and then he guides me up to the dais. "I'll come get you when it's time."

I climb the stairs on the right side of the dais, trying to find a seat that hasn't been taken already. Unfortunately, all of the seats at the table are labeled with place cards, little bits of cream cardstock that have been etched in curling script with names and titles. I try to keep my eyes on the whirling bodies of the dance floor and away from the Wizard's tiger-like gaze. The dancers seem to have moved onto a reel, two great ovals smashed together as couples take turns dancing down the aisle of refined and all-green and gold clothing. I watch intently, even as I take my seat next to him, even as I can smell the spiced cloud of his cologne, even as I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face to make it so hot that I wonder if I have a fever and might be excused from the party to undisturbed bed rest.

We sit like this for an eternity, letting the full orchestra swallow up our unsaid words, until a familiar voice asks, "Are you a big dancer?" It's Fiyero, goblet in hand, and much more fashionably dressed than the last time I saw him, a satin blue military jacket perfectly accompanying his blinding smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

I have to ask him to repeat himself, feigning that the orchestra is too loud to hear him. He does, and I swear I could go down to the Unionist chapel right now and thank the Unnamed God for getting me away from the man sitting next to me. "Oh yes!" I say. "I love dancing. I don't get to do it much, so I'm really trying to take it all in."

Prince Fiyero laughs at that. "Wouldn't it be better to take it in on the dance floor?" He offers me a hand, and I don't have to think twice before taking it.

I don't have to imagine that Fiyero is a heartbreaker back in Winkie Country. I can feel my own butterflies flap their wings in curiosity at how graceful and perfectly gentlemanlike he is: the way his hand warmly guides me by the waist, the way he laughs at anything that I say and always has the perfect banter ready to shoot back. Even his eyes, his hair, and his teeth are perfectly perfect, and yet I am still not completely sold. Stopping me from falling for him fully is almost equally the shock that a prince has asked me to dance with him when I had been sharing a bed for warmth and stealing ribbons weeks ago, and the fact that I can still feel the Wizard's eyes on me.

I look to the dais, and even though we are a good hundred feet away, I can see the anger seeping from him, how Humak who was sitting to his right looks at him nervously as if the man in the satin green tuxedo were going to explode and kill him in the process. Good, I think. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. It wouldn't hurt him to see me dancing with the enemy. It's just a little harmless fun so maybe he'd stop trying to mess with my head and toy with me.

I'm not familiar with the dance that plays next, but Fiyero is such an excellent partner that everyone who looks at us would think I had known it my whole life. He jokes with me about how the party hadn't really started until I showed up and I almost believe him. By the end of it, I have a stitch in my side from all of the dancing and the laughing. I feel as if I could down an entire bottle of fizzy wine the way I'm out of breath and giddy to go again. I don't need the wine as I feel a strange warmth spreading within me. Looking at Fiyero, I'm more than glad he came to the Emerald City, and not just glad that he got me away from the Wizard.

"Come on! Come on!" a man in spectacles that pinch his pupils into reptilian slits shouts. "Let's play a game of Blind Man's Buff!"

This sends the crowd into a tizzy of excitement, young women shrieking with delight and pushing each other, the gentlemen gathering closer to the bespectacled man.

"Blind Man's Buff?" I say, grabbing Fiyero's arm. "What is it?"

Fiyero's grin spreads wide in excitement and he pulls me into the throng of those who have had enough of dancing. The man in the lizard glasses is now waving a white scarf as if it were a flag of surrender as the mob pushes in.

"Who shall be our Blind Man?" Lizard Eyes asks.

Fiyero pulls me forward and pushes me to the front. "Take her!" he shouts, waving my hand above my head. "She's a virgin!"

"A virgin!?" Lizard Eyes exclaims.

I'm short-circuiting over them discussing whether I've slept with anyone before when Fiyero whispers in my ear, "It just means you've never played before, love." The butterflies are now beating their wings in earnest.

"Yes! Yes!" Lizard Eyes says. "It will be a special Lurlinemas treat, then. A real game to remember!" Quickly, Lizard Eyes blindfolds me, the world going dark as the soft and warm cashmere is wrapped snuggly around my eyes. Despite the scarf being white, there is still a green light that comes through, and I realize just how truly green the entire palace and city are if even a thick scarf can't block the verdant glow. "Should we make it a special game?" the voice of Lizard Eyes says.

"Lover's fate!" Fiyero shouts out.

"What's that?" I try to ask Lizard Eyes. However, I can't see him, and my guess as to where he is remains in the last place I saw him. I reach out to my right and touch nothing but air. This earns a laugh from the crowd.

"Lover's fate!" people agree, some even starting a chant.

"Lover's fate it will be!" Lizard Eyes says. He must have moved back behind me, I realize, turning in that direction. "You will have to search the room looking for people. Once you grab someone, you must identify them." He giggles.

"Sounds easy," I say. I hope I catch Fiyero, I think. He's familiar enough and I wouldn't mind an excuse to touch that perfect face of his.

"Well, it would be, except you can't use your hands," Lizard Eyes says. "You'll have to kiss them to figure it out."

I want to rip off the scarf and go hide under one of the banquet tables when Lizard Eyes grabs me by the shoulders and starts spinning me around and around until I'm so dizzy that I want to lay on the floor until my head comes back to normal. Even if I lay there all evening, it would never stop the spinning on account of how many strangers there were and that I would have to kiss one of them. The thought makes my stomach go cold, so I know that I have to find Fiyero. Maybe I’ll be glad that I came to the party after all. Maybe...

The mob that had gathered around Lizard Eyes is now quickly dispersing and reeling back in. Their whoops and hollers are growing distant and then occasionally they bump past me in taunt, but I don’t care. Frankly, there are too many of them, and I'm trying to pick out Fiyero's voice. The slight Winkie accent is what I'm looking for, the way it sparkles. I think I hear him 10 feet diagonally to the right of me. I go chasing after it and can hear his laugh as I fall through the air in my attempt to catch him.

"If I had known you wanted to kiss me that bad," he says, "we could have skipped the dancing."

I'm following his voice once again, trying to sneak up on him. "Okay," I say. "So then get over here." Another snatch and a miss.

"Nuh-uh," he says. "I'm undefeated in this game. You can kiss me afterward if you really want to."

I make a dash for him and miss the grab again. I stomp my foot, willing him to hold still.

"You know, you're supposed to chase other people too," he says. Another missed grab.

"Well nobody told me that," I retort back. I fake going after other people, trying to keep his location in mind. When I'm satisfied with enough squeals and laughs, I taunt him again. "Maybe you're undefeated because you're scared."

"I'm not scared," he says. 8 feet to my left. I reach for the rustle of a skirt that I hear closest to me, pretending to chase it as I make a semicircle to cut him off. I shoot my hand out and grab hold of an arm clad in a soft satin. The blue and gold dress military jacket.

"Too easy," I say with a smirk. The room has gone silent and I can't stop grinning at the thought of the Arjiki prince kissing the Wizard’s special guest. Serve’s him right. "Kiss me."

His fingertips are warm as his hands cradle my face. The room is still holding its breath as I feel just the brush of his lips against my own.

"You call that a kiss?" I whisper. "Kiss me."

His lips crush mine openly, an invitation. I let my tongue slide against his lower lip as his tongue slips against mine and into my mouth, pressing my tongue back into submission. It's everything I can do to not fall into his arms and let him carry me out of the party. He was certainly better than any schoolyard kisses and there was a promise of domination in the way his tongue danced with mine that sent a thrill up my spine.

When he pulls away, his name is already on my lips as I tear the scarf off. I don't make it past the first syllable.

It's him. There's a look of hurt in his eyes and I can't help but feel like an idiot. I was so wrapped up in the idea of kissing Fiyero that I couldn't even recognize the same small scars that had touched my hands earlier that day or the way his mustache and goatee had scratched the delicate skin of my lips.

So many things are crashing and burying me like an avalanche: the way he's looking at me, the way the room is still silent and staring at us, the way Fiyero has a shit-eating grin and I can tell he's holding in a laugh, the way I liked it and still want more. This last part is what sends me running from the room and out into the winding halls of the Emerald Palace.

I need to get away from him, to think this out. How was I ever going to face him again? I remember telling Bruno about how I would run away, and now I'm seriously considering it. How much could a train ticket possibly cost? Fileah and I could probably run away and live in the jungle off of the fruits of the forest until we found somewhere nice in Munchkinland to house us. Maybe Bruno had some family outside of the Emerald City that could hide us.

I burst through the hallway and find myself back in the throne room. Sweet Oz, anywhere but here. The face is well hidden amongst the vines again. I consider going up into it to cry – it'd probably be the last place he'd expect to find me – when I hear a queer wooden sound. It sounds like a penny made of wood is spinning around and around before it falls flat. Then the crash happens, followed by cursing.

I run over to the source of the commotion to see Humak Tigelaar with a funny-looking object in his hands.

"Humak," I say through a tear-constricted throat, "you're missing the party."

Humak laughs nervously at this, agreeing with me. It is as he's trying to slip away that I realize what he's holding.

"The Grimmerie," I breathe.

Humak's smile drops and instantaneously he's bolting into the hallways.

All I wanted to do was to be left alone, to just go somewhere where no one would find me while I tried to sort out what would be best for me, what would be best for Fileah. No, in truth, it was just what would be best for me. If I had really been selfless I would have played whatever part he had set for me and done it happily. Ribbons were a fraction of his generosity, and she could have had anything in the world if I had just played the stupid part.

I feel like Lizard Eyes has spun me around and around for a second time as the machine that is Oz the Great and Terrible seems to be floating up with its ropes towards the ceiling, the ceiling falling to the floor. I stumble, feeling for any sort of familiarity or guidepost in what to do, and I keep stumbling, footstep after footstep until I reach the entrance to the Officer's wing.

My voice sounds a thousand yards away as I yell for help.

[kittenfangirl20]

((Prince and the Duck Au))

Adam had dreamed of being a performer since he was a little kid. His mom and dad always told him to shoot for the stars and follow his dreams.

But of course, being on the lower side of income and having your parents pass away at a young age didn't put Adam in the fortune 500.

By day he worked at a diner as a waiter, at night he moonlighted as orderly at the hospital. He barely made enough to get by. But his best friend since childhood, Emily and her mother Sera helped him out when they could.

To this day Adam still has his father's guitar and hoped to play in a place of his own one day. A restaurant where he could play his music.

The dream was just that a dream. But that was okay.

Until Adam got the chance to get the place of his dreams. An old place down by the water front and he wanted to show Sera. She was the closest he had to mother.

Adam: What do you think!?

Sera looked around, there wasn't much there. More rats than anything.

Sera: It's.... Interesting dear.

Adam: Oh Sera, once I clean the place up it will be great. I'm almost there! I can feel it.

Sera: Oh honey, I don't-

Adam: Just picture it!

Adam went into detail of everything he saw for the place and Sera smiled. She was so proud of him.

Sera: It will be a lot of hard work.

Adam: Always is.

*things were about to change for Adam in a very interesting way with the arrival of a cruise ship, it held twin brothers Lucifer and Michael, they were princes of a very far off kingdom and Lucifer was heir to the throne, but his parents wondered if he was the choice for the job and they told him if he didn’t prove himself responsible then he would be disinherited and Michael would be the heir, Michael watched Lucifer easily flirt with men and women with envy in his heart, everything came easily to Lucifer that he wanted to see him fail, just then he was approached by the richest woman in town Sera with an invitation to the Mardi Gras masquerade ball being held at her mansion tonight*

Michael: While I would gain from your failure, I would think that you would want to actually find a way to prove yourself responsible.

Lucifer: Don’t worry, it is just one masquerade ball, there will be good food and music. How about we relax for one night before I have to do the boring part.

?: Gentlemen, you must be the Princes that everyone in New Orleans was talking about.

*a man with short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, glasses, and dressed in all red stepped out of the shadows, the thing that stood out about him was his unnaturally creepy smile, what they didn’t notice his shadow moving on its own taking on many forms*

Michael: Who are you?

?: Why I am Alastor the Shadow Man and Master of Voodoo, would you like to see your future.

*Alastor started to play with his tarot cards while watching them, Lucifer then shrugged*

Lucifer: Why not?

*Lucifer dragged Michael while they followed Alastor to his shop, the shop was filled with many strange objects dealing with voodoo rituals and a radio playing an eerie yet cheerful tune*

Michael: How does this work?

Alastor: You could say that I have friends on the other side.

*after giving a very accurate reading of both brothers, Lucifer on how his laidback lifestyle was ruining his chances at the throne and how Michael hated being in the shadows of everyone around him, Alastor pulled out a pendant and used it to collect some of Lucifer’s blood and he started to chant a spell which made Lucifer turn into something smaller and covered in feathers, then Alastor turned to Michael asking him if he wanted to be involved in his scheme in taking over New Orleans which Michael agreed to while Lucifer ran away in shock once outside the shop he saw his reflection in a puddle of a white duck with red circles on his cheeks, but also had his top hat on, when he moved his arm in front of his face he instead saw a white wing*

Lucifer: What the fuck.

*at Sera’s manor Adam and Emily were hanging out while Adam popped a beignet into his mouth*

Adam: I should cut back on these, they made me gain a bit of weight.

Emily: There is nothing wrong with you, your cute and round chubby tummy makes you huggable.

*it was true that Adam had put on some weight because of stress, but if you asked anyone who knew him, they actually preferred him this way, he was mostly muscle but his stomach was soft round and chubby, his thighs were nice and thick, and his butt was nice and round*

Adam: The problem is that my costume for the masquerade ball from last year no longer fits me. This performance is important and I am hoping to buy the performance hall and restaurant tonight.

Emily: Don’t worry, your good friend Emily will buy you a fancy new costume.

Adam: You don’t have to.

Emily: I insist, you are my best friend. You know what, you should dress up as a prince tonight.

*they ran off to a high end costume shop where Emily looked through the costumes until she found a prince’s costume in Adam’s size which was dark blue, black, and gold*

Emily: This will look very nice on you. Who knows, you might get a boyfriend or girlfriend tonight.

Adam: I don’t have time for that.

Emily: I want to tell you a secret, tonight royalty is coming to the masquerade ball, as in princes. You might get one to help you on your music career. What if a prince falls in love with me and we get married.

Adam: You always wanted to be a princess,

*both smiled and talked about their dreams while making their way back to Sera’s mansion*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Will Adam’s duck form be like Grumpy and be a girl duck)

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed 10 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: Thank you @janaispunk for always beta reading for me. I love you!

Words: 3956

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry September 4th, 1994 Dear Javi,

So it’s been a month since you left. I’m trying not to be hurt by the lack of communication. Dad said you’re alive. The reports out of Colombia sound like you’re doing well even. I know you called your dad. He mentioned it at Ale’s riding lesson. 

School is kicking my ass. Passing the GED and actually going to class is a huge fucking difference. For the most part, I’ve managed the social situations fine. Classes are small, I can sit in the back. People don’t notice the old lady in the back. I’m pretty sure I’m only retaining a quarter of what I need to. I’m on too high of alert. I knew it would be hard, but it feels like my anxiety has gotten worse again. I feel like I’m moving backward. 

Standing outside the Embassy, Javier lit a cigarette. The habit had returned in full as he fought to manage the stress of the day and ghosts of the night. He’d managed to keep his bed empty and his ashtray full. It felt like the better option of the two. 

He still hadn’t called home. His voicemail still held last week’s message from Alejandra. He fought with himself every night. The push and the pull to talk to Emily, but every night ended the same, drowning in smoke and whiskey. He wasn’t clean enough to have her or the kids. It was better this way. 

He felt useless down here. What good was the DEA if they weren’t going to actually do any enforcing. He and the whole agency were just expensive window dressing here to make it look like everything was above board, to get the DEA stamp of approval on this surrender deal. Javier hated it all.  

“Can I get one of those?” A woman appeared next to him, her dirty blond curls threaded with the soft grays and white of aging. Javier offered one up in a silence. “I quit four months ago.” She smiled before bringing it to her lips.

Javier cocked his head to the side, still assessing her motives. He hadn’t seen her around before. She wanted something, Javier just couldn’t decide what. He lit the cigarette for her as they both took a drag, sizing one another up as they did. 

He briefly wondered if her hair style was what Emily had in mind when she mentioned cutting it shorter. He still preferred the idea of her long curls. His chest tightened. Not that he had any right to a say in that. 

The woman squared up to him. “Carolina Alvarez, El Tiempo.” She held out her hand.

Just what he needed, the press. He let her hand hang in the air just long enough to make her feel uneasy before taking it with an admittedly poor handshake. As he suspected, it didn’t take long for her to launch into whatever introduction she had planned, pulling up his history with Los Pepes and the current politics happening with Cali’s plea deal. 

It was a power play. Javier refused to let her win. “You can call the press office if you want a comment, Miss Alvarez.”

“Carolina, please,” she said.

In another life, Javier wouldn’t give her the time of day. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with the press last time. That had been above his pay grade. He tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out with his foot. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with her now. That was what the press office was for. “Have a nice day.” He turned, started to walk away. 

“Have you heard much about the Cali accident?” she asked. His steps slowed down. He turned back around. “Four more people dead. Children. Dozens more sick.” She stepped toward him. “An empty chlorine gas canister was found nearby.”

Javier kept his face straight. His shoulders tensed. He’d seen the initial report, but hadn’t thought too much about it. 

Caroline continued, taking his silence for permission. “There’s a rumor its manufacturer is linked to a front company operated by the Cali Cartel.”

“It’s like you said, it was an accident,” Javier said, expression etched in stone, not giving anything away. 

Carolina let out a humorless chuckle. “By the end of the day it will be. No matter what the truth is.” She met his eye, giving it a second for emphasis before lapsing into Spanish. “Thank you for the cigarette.” 

She walked away, leaving Javier in the same place, same expression on his face. He fought against his surging emotions. He wasn’t going to let some journalist use him to do her research. Even so, it nagged on him throughout the day. He found himself taking extra smoke breaks.  

When he found himself watching the evening news, the investigator calling it an accident, caused by a natural gas leak, Javier felt anger surge through him. How many families had to be torn apart to protect these men? Innocent children had died. Mothers had children to bury. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t justice. 

Pictures flashed across the screen, the children killed by the exposure. He’d seen children die before. He’d watched a man he respected shoot a teenager in the head as a warning. He’d held a gun to a kid. Those incidents had messed with his head enough, but these kids were in their homes, tucked into their beds. They were supposed to be safe. How many times had Javier watched as Emily ushered her children to bed, kissed their heads, and trusted that they'd be safe in their bed. That they would wake up. 

Javier was never good at guessing the ages of kids, but each face that flashes across the screen seems to remind him of them. Miguelito. Alejandra. Mateo. Children he’d grown to know, to love even…

This wasn’t right. Cali didn’t get to get away with it. Not this time. He shut the TV off, walking over to Chris Feistl’s desk. He leaned against the wall. “You got a partner, right?”

Chris looked up at him, confused and a little shocked. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.”

Maybe it could be different this time. Maybe he could still bring justice. 

“Good, you’re going to Cali.” He walked away before Feistl could respond. 

This time would be different.

Journal Entry September 18th, 1994 Dear Javi,

It hurts not to hear from you. Dad said all reports from Colombia have been good. I’m sure you’re getting restless. 

I had a panic attack in class this week. I had to leave ten minutes into the class. I hadn’t had one since Escobar was killed. That’s the longest I’d been without one since I came home. I was starting to think maybe I’d never have one again. 

I feel… disappointed. 

Javier met Carolina at a cafe. She gave him information about Cali's money launderer, Franklin Jurado. She pushed him in a way he needed just as she had in their first meeting. It seemed weird that perhaps his moral compass would come in the form of a nosy journalist. 

“Are you going to take these men on or what?” she asked.

Javier let out a quick breath, formulating his answer very carefully. “I’m going to do my job.”

“And your bosses?” Her gaze was piercing, like she was trying to see his soul or haunt his dreams until the job was done. “Do they know what you’re doing?”

His eyes drifted to his coffee. “No comment,” he said, putting the cup to his lips, pinning her with a soft glare he was sure she saw right through. 

She called him with the address an hour after he left.

Javier didn’t have to sit long before Franklin appeared on the steps, bags in tow. He was going somewhere, but where was the question. A driver appeared, helping the man with his bags and once they were packed, a woman walked toward him. Javier watched from his SUV as Franklin took her hand. She didn’t look happy to be saying goodbye, and then he held her tight. 

A pang shot through Javier’s chest as the blonde woman folded into her husband’s arms. She didn’t want him to go, but she was there to say goodbye anyway. An image of Emily flashed through his mind. The night before he left, she hadn’t cried, but he saw it in her eyes, felt it in the way she hugged him. He wondered if his coldness had made her cry since that night. This was better for her. She would be better off without him. He let out a sigh as he turned the ignition to follow Franklin’s, cutting off the thought before it wracked his body with guilt. 

After following Jurado to the airport, Javier headed for his own flight to follow him. Stechner blocked it, pulling him into the jungle with a couple of senators to rub elbows, to take him out like a show pony, the man who brought down Escobar, except he wasn’t even in the country when that happened. Everyone seems to ignore that part. 

He seethed on the helicopter ride in, feigning a broken headset to avoid talking. There were plenty of other places Javier would rather be, anywhere else really. He was supposed to be taking down Cali, despite what his orders were. Hell, he’d rather run for his life through the communas again than take a couple of stuffy senators on a stroll through the jungle. 

Humidity hung heavy in the air as sweat soaked his shirt. He was used to the weather, but in dress shoes and slacks it was hell. To make it all worse, it was apparent from the get go that it was a set up, a fancy, high tailed lie to raise support for whatever the CIA was gunning for, fighting communists or whatever. Javier found the whole pursuit to be a gigantic waste of time. He’d smuggled a communist out of the country once, he’d do it again without a second thought, but one thing became abundantly clear. Cali’s surrender had nothing to do with the war on drugs and everything to do with fundraising. 

Javier’s blood boiled the entire ride home, replaying his conversation with Stechner. The way the CIA agent had laughed about the drug war as if it was a joke. Maybe it was, but Javier wasn’t ready to let this one go. 

“The drug war? We lost it. You were there!”

It echoed on a fucking loop, driving him crazy as he made his way back home. There weren’t enough cigarettes in the world to numb the blows and they kept coming. 

“Did you ever stop to think that someone who takes this as personally as you do, is doing it wrong?”

He stubbed out the bud against his truck door as he got out, marching up the steps as he knocked on the door. 

This was personal. He couldn’t go home empty handed. He couldn’t face her without knowing he’d made an impact on this fight, brought down men like the one who’d inflicted such scars on her.  

Colonel Martinez opened the door, breaking Javier from his thoughts. He looked surprised to see him. 

Javier cut to the chase. “Want to go after Gilberto Rodriguez?”

Journal Entry October 2nd, 1994 Javi,

Where the fuck are you? It feels like my best friend abandoned me. You abandoned me. 

The day they arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, Javier went through the wringer, the emotional ups and downs. The DEA was excited. The bullpen had given him a round of applause, wanted to toast him. He didn’t like that. The ambassador had torn him a new one. Javier wasn’t a fan of that either. A meeting of high ranking Colombian officials with the American representatives showed the scope. Some felt this gave them more leverage while others feared it would make things worse, but the president ordered that Gilberto go through the same process as any other citizen. Javier considered that a win. He didn’t take pleasure in the press conference. 

By the time he made it back to the office, he had a killer headache, but it was thankfully empty by then. Javier pulled out the whiskey and the cigarettes. He didn’t necessarily feel happy, but he felt as if he’d done something finally.

Javier didn’t stop to celebrate or rest. He turned focus right back to Franklin Jurado, refocusing his attention on the launderer, but not before stopping to put a big, red X through Gilberto’s picture. That brought him a moment of happiness, but he paused to wonder.

He wondered if she had heard the news, seen the press conference. Did Emily know how much of a driving force she was to him? How much he wanted to clear the earth of every single cartel and drug boss, to make her feel safe again. For a second, he contemplated calling her. Could he know? Had he atoned enough? He shook his head at the thought, gripping the marker tightly in his hand. He would never atone enough. 

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP

“Mr. Javi. It’s me. Alejandrina.”

“I’m here too!” Mateo’s voice called out, sounding more distant than his sister’s. 

“Miguelito is here too. Mom is working in the yard.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this!” Miguelito said. “Grandpa is going to see it on the phone bill.”

“You never called me back.” Alejandra continued. “I saw you on the news in grandpa’s office. He didn’t know I saw. It sounded like you caught the bad guys. Can you come home now?”

“There’s more than one bad guy.” Miguelito reminded her. 

Alejandra sighed frustratedly as she went off in Spanish at her older brother. There was static on the receiver and then Mateo started talking as his older siblings fought in the background. 

“Mr. Javi. Stay safe. We love you. Bye.” The machine clicked off. 

Javier spent the next week in meetings getting berated or praised for the DEA’s actions, but mostly the berated. The doubt crept in at times. Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but it never stayed for long. He’d done the right thing. He was certain of that. 

Neil spent most of his time listening to the Jurado tapes in search of a location of Franklin. Nothing was turning up yet, but he still held out hope. Each conversation Franklin and his wife had tugged on something in Javier’s heart. Maybe it was the way she begged him to turn himself in, her worry, the anxiety. 

Even as he sat at the end of the bar, eyes pinned to Christina Jurado, Javier felt the guilt ebbing at him. Last year, he wouldn’t have thought twice about using Christina’s situation to get the information. It was easy enough, buy her a drink, pull out the charm, trick her into telling him where Franklin was. So why did he feel so damn bad about it? Why could he only picture Emily in the same position? 

Her situation had been nothing like this. They were two separate people in two separate realities. So why was he struggling with this? Why couldn’t he separate the two women? He should call her. 

Javier shook his head, waving the bartender over. He ordered a drink for Christina, clearing his head and dusting off the charm as he waited for the drink to be delivered. 

She looked annoyed at first, but the moment his English caught her ears, he watched her entire demeanor change. Javier knew he had it in the bag, but it didn’t feel as good as it used to. And then the words slipped out, almost like his mouth had a mind of its own. 

“You reminded me of someone. Someone from home.”

She liked that line, but he wanted to shower the moment he said it. What right did he have to utter even her existence in this place? None, but he’d done it anyway. Further evidence that he’d done the right thing by not calling her. 

Even through the guilt gnawing at him, Javier played the dutiful flirt. Almost lost himself in it, almost dared to enjoy it.

“So what could pull him away from-” He looked her up and down. “From all this.”

The words repeated in his mind. What could pull him away from her? In both cases the answer was the same. The Drug War. This all powerful thing that had left him battered and bruised yet kept drawing him back in. 

Christina paused, gave him another once over and then slid from her seat. “Say hi to Texas for me.”

Javi gave her credit, she was committed to her husband, or maybe his flirting skills weren’t as good as they used to be, either way, it was plan B. He called out the name she’d never told him, told her who he was, and she all but spit in his face. 

When Javier showed up at her front door later that day, she didn’t turn him away. He may not have learned where Franklin was, but she gave him the time of day. She listened. She all but told him she would try to convince her husband to turn himself in. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t look at him as he set his card on the coffee table, a far away look in her eyes, no doubt replaying the past, just like Emily when- Javier cut the thought off. This wasn’t her. This was different. 

He reasoned that he was doing this to help Christina, to keep her safe, but he knew that wasn’t true, his own selfish motives landing in the forefront of his mind. It was for the greater good, but how many people had he harmed for the greater good? 

Before he left, Javier vowed to keep Christina out of harm’s way. It was the least he could do. This time would be different.

It worked. Christina called Franklin almost as soon as he left. By the grace of god, the tap caught the man thanking someone in the language, specific enough to track him down to Curaçao. 

Before the night was over, Javier sat at the airport bar tapping his fingers against the smooth surface. He still couldn’t shake the feeling, the deceit of it all. He was caught off guard when his SAT phone rang. He answered, keeping an eye out at the bar around him. 

“Peña,” He answered, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“Uh, it’s me… Christina Jurado.”

“I’m glad you called… You okay?”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Christina said. She sounded nervous, worried. “If I do this- if I get my husband to- you can protect us? We can go home?”

Javier’s chest tightened. He finished off his drink. “You have my word.” But he didn’t know how much his word carried these days.

She hesitated before answering. “I talked to him.”

“You did? That’s good.”

“He’s gonna cooperate.”

“He said that?” Javier picked up his duffel bag.

“No, not yet- but he will. I just… I need a little time.”

“That’s fine.” Javier walked down the terminal. “You take all the time you need.” 

He hung up without another exchange, just before his flight was announced over the intercom. Internally, he repeated his early promise. He’d keep her safe. 

Journal Entry October 15th, 1994

I dropped my classes today. I haven’t been able to make it to class. I thought I could do it. You thought I could do it…

Javier had almost forgotten the adrenaline rush of chasing down the bad guys. The hunt for Gilberto had been one thing, but the thrill of actually chasing someone down, weaving through the crowds, finally getting him. It felt good. It felt like a win when even his wins felt like losses these days. 

In all of Javier’s days in law enforcement, he’d never had someone ask about their wife. Never had anyone worried for anyone’s safety but their own, and he assured Franklin that she would meet them in Miami. 

Javier couldn’t help but admire the Jurado’s commitment to one another. For one, it made it a lot easier to get his witness, yet there was something about them. Tangled up in this mess, but still committed, still loving each other. 

As they landed, his phone rang again. Christina called him, freaking out about the men at her apartment. He had to tell her they’d arrested him. She reacted as he expected, upset and anxious, and surprisingly, his guilt had subsided. Maybe it was because they had Franklin. Maybe it was because he knew if she could get herself to the embassy, she would be safe. He’d done it. He’d brought Franklin in, and he hadn’t destroyed a family in the process. She just needed to get herself a couple miles before they found out Franklin was in custody.

“Christina, you want it, this is it.” He cut off her rambling firmly. “As soon as we hang up the phone, you get yourself to the American embassy. You don’t talk to anyone. You don’t call anyone. You get yourself there.”

He caught the whispers of her agreement before the line went dead. 

He paused a second after the call ended, staring at the keypad. Maybe it was the American soil. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually starting to feel good about this. He thought about calling for real, so close to punching the numbers he had memorized. Then he was reminded that he was on the tarmac. The job wasn’t done, but afterward, maybe he would call her. Except, Christina never made it to the embassy. 

An envelope with Emily’s handwriting greeted Javier when he got back to his apartment in Colombia. The return address confirmed it as he stared at it in the dim light of his apartment, rereading the address like he might catch a clue to its contents in the ink strokes. He debated opening it. The kids’ secret phone call to him from a couple weeks ago, the only message that accompanied Emily’s on his answering machine, ran through his mind. 

It was too late for this. It had been a long couple of days. The guilt that had returned tenfold since he left Miami without calling Emily, with Christina’s whereabouts unknown, but he ripped the seal open anyway. 

It was likely Emily ripping him apart, angry with him for abandoning her. Even the kids’ voicemail hadn’t been enough to make him call. He didn’t deserve them. Any of them. He was better off out of their lives.

He rubbed his forehead as he unfolded the paper, but it wasn’t words that greeted him, but bright colors and advanced stick figures drawn in crayon, five people. He furrowed his brow, looking back at the envelope. In the corner was Alejandra’s name atop the return address. In the picture, two adults, three kids, and a couple of horses all smiled back at him. He couldn’t help his own smile that ghosted his lips. Paz and Hurricane. His heart clenched. He hoped that Ale was still taking lessons at the ranch, and the boys practicing with the lasso. Alejandra had written their names above each person. 

He’d been a dick. Hadn’t returned calls like he said he would, promised he would, but Ale still wanted him to have this, Emily still sent it. She didn’t have to. She could have lied and thrown it in the trash instead. 

Javier cleared his throat as the page began to blur a little bit. He needed to go to sleep. He grabbed the maintenance magnet, using it to pin the drawing to his fridge. 

This time would be different. 

...........................................................

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu @greengirlwurld

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Push and Pull

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (Smut Blurb)

Concept: While playing games with Viper, Emily (accidentally) plays on your attraction to her - something you had been trying to hide since you started with the BAU. The results end up being more than interesting.

Word Count: 2,800

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: smut; this is set during Season 4, Episode 9 (52 Pickup) and there is a lot of references to the episode in this, but I think you could read this without having seen the episode; mentions of typically sexist practices - in the form of 'pickup artistry': the reader character replaces Jordan Todd on the team; there is an age gap between Emily and the reader - Emily is older and the reader character is younger; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mention of the reader wearing a dress and makeup; the reader has sexual fantasies about Emily - which include: pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, being called 'naughty girl'; most of the sex acts are in fantasies (this fic is mostly tension and build up and sexually adjacent situations rather than actual sex); masturbation (the reader masturbates); mentions of masturbation being unsatisfying or not feeling 'as good' as having sex with the desired partner; caught masturbating - Emily walks in on the reader; Emily refers to herself as 'Mama' (once); rough kissing, Emily gropes the reader through clothing, very light choking (from Emily toward the reader) (Emily puts her hand on the reader's neck and applies pressure for a few seconds to get her attention), Emily calls the reader 'needy little thing' (in this case the word 'little' is meant to be condescending and not a description of size); undertones of degradation kink; I believe that is everything.

A/N: The original request mentioned fake dating (and I would love to do that trope with Emily), but I couldn't stop thinking about how stunning and gorgeous Emily looks in this episode, and I thought it would be interesting to use it. Also the idea of a man basing his pickup techniques on women needing male validation when - hey, what kind of women wouldn't want or need male validation? A woman who is obsessed with the other gorgeous woman at the table. It was such a fun scenario to write about. I definitely wanna write more Emily fics in the future.

...

At first, you really weren’t looking forward to it. 

Though it seemed fun in concept - having an excuse to dress up and go out to a club while on the job - Emily assured you that it was going to be miserable. 

The way Emily talked about the man - Viper. She almost made him sound worse than some of the confirmed killers you had dealt with during your short time at the BAU. She said that he was the scum of the earth, a waste of oxygen, that made her feel dirty just by giving her a weird look. She joked that she was ‘dragging you along’ because she didn’t want to suffer alone (that, and she needed backup, in case the guy truly was dangerous). 

From the way she talked about it, you thought the night was going to be miserable. 

You certainly didn’t expect it to be one of the best nights of your life. 

Viper frequented bars and nightclubs. So of course, nightclub appropriate attire was required. You rushed to a store and grabbed the first tight dress you could find (a red one with spaghetti straps that would pair well with a pair of modest black heels you already had in your bag for the job). You didn’t expect to come back and see Emily getting changed into a clingy black dress that fit her like sin, her makeup subtle but smokey. 

You had been actively suppressing your attraction to her, a gorgeous older woman, since you had joined the BAU a month ago. You told yourself that you could keep your lustful feelings under control because you would only be there temporarily, to replace their usual media liaison - who was on maternity leave. But seeing her dressed up like this, it certainly didn’t help with that suppression. 

Things only got worse when you got to the club and Viper descended upon the two of you. (You quietly whispered to Emily that his name should have been Vulture and the soft laughter she let out had your insides fluttering.) 

Turns out, Emily had been paying extra attention to the ‘push and pull’ technique that Reid had talked about. And even though you knew that it was just in the name of messing with the cocky man - you fell hook, line, and sinker for Emily’s combatants of this technique. 

See, rather than letting him push and pull the two of you - compliment one of you and leave the other one reeling for validation, Emily complimented you herself. She never let Viper leave room for you to need that validation. Not that you would ever need it from someone like him. But she certainly threw him off with this tactic. 

She supported you, focused far more of her attention on you than she did on him. The two of you never fell to the traditional ‘women in constant competition’ market that his techniques were built on. If she put far more of her focus on you and actively ignored him (or even not-so-subtly insulted him), then what could he do? 

Women not vying for his attention? It was a curveball for the ages. 

Clearly, he had no backup plan. He was struggling to keep up. 

If he called your dress cheap, Emily said how well the fabric complimented your amazing body. If he said your mascara was clumpy and poorly done, Emily said your eyes were naturally beautiful and shined bright without makeup anyway. 

The more annoyed it seemed to make him, the more she fawned over you. 

And it left you staring at her all night. Captivated by her beauty, her silky voice. You barely even knew that he was there as she laughed at him, engaged in his silly games, taunted him. 

By the time you left the club, you were almost high on the affection Emily had given you. 

The rest seemed to go by in a blur. The real killer was caught at a different club, and the team retired back to their hotel to get some rest before returning home. As you and Emily walked back to your shared room, you were still laughing and joking about the pathetic man who somehow made his living off of scamming men more pathetic than him. 

“And did - did you see the look on his face when I said ‘you probably go home alone, don’t you?’ - Like he - he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t falling for his BS,” Emily said, stuttering through her words as hardy laughter disrupted her speech. 

“It’s like he’s never met a confident woman in his life.” You replied, a delicate chuckle in your voice. 

It was a subtle compliment toward Emily, admiring her confidence in how well she had dealt with the scummy, overly cocky man. 

“No, not quite.” Emily sighed, using the keycard to open the hotel room door. 

Your insides fluttered even more when she held the door open for you. You couldn’t help but enjoy the domestic feeling behind it as you brushed past her body in order to get inside. 

Of course, she wasn’t even paying attention to the dreamy, starstruck look on your face as she continued speaking. 

“He’s never approached a confident woman before.” She quickly corrected, letting the door fall shut and click locked behind her. “He’s never approached a woman he thought he couldn’t con.” 

“And for some reason he dared you to ‘meet him on his turf’?” You questioned, repeating the words she had told you, when ranting about the previous interaction she had with the awful man. “You, of all people?” 

You had to wonder what about Emily Prentiss would come off as even slightly insecure or - what about her said that she would fall for his stupid tricks. In your opinion, it was like trying to outrun a cheetah using a tricycle. 

“Yeah, I guess he was counting on me being drunk and blinded by all his guyliner.” Emily joked, tossing her bag down onto one of the twin beds. 

You collapsed down onto the other bed with intense laughter. The joke itself was funny, but her delivery, her confidence, and her smile caused a spark through you that forced you to laugh off the tension before you jumped her bones. You had to be professional. You had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“I call the bathroom first.” She announced. “I really need a shower after being drowned in Drakkar Noir all night.” 

You had to ignore the dryness in your throat and the heat between your thighs at the thought of her in the shower. Previously, it was something your mind could have easily glossed over, but after she spent the night fawning over you and capturing your attention completely, it was like you were a horny teenager again. Now all you could think about was her completely naked, droplets of hot water rolling across her skin, surrounded by steam. 

You had to pull yourself together. You had to be professional, for fuck’s sake. 

“But of course.” You told her, giving a smile and a nod. You motioned toward the bathroom, as if presenting it to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’ll probably just shower in the morning.” 

Emily nodded in acknowledgement of this, and there was no further conversation. 

This left your mind reeling, your body entirely tense and hyper aware of her every movement as she got ready. You had to busy yourself with grabbing your pajamas out of your own bag - an oversized X-Files tee shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts - while she grabbed her toiletries bag and went into the bathroom. 

The water turned on and you tried your hardest not to think about her undressing and stepping under the stream as you changed into your pjs. You tried your hardest not to think about her tight, fit body relaxing under the steam. You tried your hardest not to think about soft bubbles rolling across her soft, pale skin. 

Clearly, you were failing. Failing not to think about her. Failing miserably when it came to suppressing your attraction for her. 

By the time you climbed into bed, there was a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You wanted so badly to simply roll over and go to sleep. You wanted to ignore it. But a very large part of you worried that if you didn’t ‘take care’ of that nagging arousal, then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if you didn’t sleep and you rolled into the next day with this attraction to Emily still at the forefront of your mind - then you wouldn’t be able to act normal around her for the travel day home tomorrow. You might say or do something stupid. 

You had to do something. 

The longer you laid there in bed, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, feeling your pussy throbbing between them - thinking about Emily’s head being trapped between your legs - the more it bothered you. 

You had some time while she was in the shower, right? You could be quick. Of course you could. And if you heard the water turn off, you would simply stop. 

Before any true logic could catch up between your ears, a hand was sneaking below the waistband of your shorts. That hand easily went inside your underwear and found a natural place on your throbbing clit. You dipped down into your wetness (leaking out of you abundantly from how much you had been thinking about Emily) and slicked up the hot button before you began rubbing it in hard circles. You were determined to cum quickly and be done with it. 

You closed your eyes and tiled your head back against the pillow, your mind drifting back to her once again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she looked in that ruby lipstick. All night, you had felt jealous of the glass when she brought her drink up to her lips. 

You imagined her approaching you at a bar. 

You would be out by yourself, and she would see you from across the room. So entirely confident, she would see you and in a moment, know that she could have you. 

She would come up behind you, whisper sweetly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked. She would smirk at your initial shyness when you giggled at the compliment. She would tell you that she couldn’t wait to get you home - that she wanted you and she wanted you now. 

So she would pull you into a bathroom, pinning you against a counter. And then she would shove her hand under your dress, only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties, just for her. She would scold you, call you a naughty girl. Her voice so sweet and condescending, only making you wetter. And then she would shove her fingers into your slick cunt and shove her other hand over your mouth, trying in vain to keep your whorish moans from being heard as you begged for her. 

“Emily, please,” You couldn’t stop the faint, needy moan that escaped you as you got lost in the fantasy. 

Of course, so lost in it, that you didn’t hear the shower turning off. 

Your pussy ached, leaking freely into your underwear, and your clit throbbed, emanating a needy pain out through your pelvis. You worked your fingers in more frantic circles, doubling down. Your hips canted up off the bed, knocking the covers off you slightly as dull pleasure radiated out across your hips. 

(Dull compared to what Emily would have given you, you were sure.) 

Even if it was unsatisfactory, you were close. 

“Emily-!” You cried out desperately, right on the edge of orgasm. 

“Hey, do you have some makeup remover I can borrow? I forgot-” 

Shock cascaded through your system and you instantly stilled your movements. This caused your orgasm to become a low hum in your pelvis once again as your eyes shot open in disbelief. 

Your gaze locked onto Emily where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Your insides were still with shock - embarrassment or any other emotion hadn’t even caught up yet. 

Steam ploomed around her and she was forced to hold up the hotel towel with one hand as it couldn’t fully wrap around her body, leaving a sliver of her skin exposed from her armpit to her knee - the curve of her breast, her waist, and her hip on full display. With her hair soaked and her bangs slicked back from her face, and true to what she had said, her makeup still on but slightly smudged from the shower - she looked utterly delicious. 

She was like a pornographic dream, live in front of you. 

You let out a quiet whimper at the sight. 

It was only then that your brain began to unfreeze from the shock, and you realized how truly incriminating you looked. The covers pooled around your thighs, your hand quite visibly inside your shorts, your face contorted with pleasure as your eyes scanned over her half naked body. You rushed to rip your hand out of your underwear - and you realized the sight wasn’t much better as your fingers glistened in the light. 

Emily’s eyes moved from your glistening fingers to your stiff, nervous body, your thighs still parted (as it would be too uncomfortable to clamp them down on your wet underwear and aching cunt). She smirked at you. She looked at you with the same devious, cocky expression that Viper had started out the night with - before she had taken him down notch by notch. 

The look alone caused any apology to be stuck in your throat. You waited for her to speak before you made any moves. 

“What were you thinking about?” She asked, her voice breathy, soft, yet entirely commanding. 

In that moment, caught in the smoldering gate of her eyes, you could find nothing but honesty pounding inside of your chest. 

“You.” You whined quietly. 

Emily chuckled gently. 

Your stomach twisted with embarrassment for the split second that you thought she might be laughing at you. But then you realized that it was, in fact, a sound of satisfaction. 

That realization hit you when she dropped the towel completely. She stood in front of you proudly, showing off all of her naked, wet glory. Her dark nipples pebbling in the air, the damp sheen of water making her skin glow like a dewy goddess. Quite obviously, she wanted you to look.

Your eyes traced a few thick droplets of water as they escaped her hair and ran down her body. You became absolutely mesmerized by the way gravity pulled the water over her collarbones, the teardrop curve of her breasts, the plushness of her stomach, across her pelvis, down her thighs. You imagined yourself tracing over those exact lines with your tongue. 

“Come to me.” 

Her silken voice snapped you out of your trance. Your eyes shot back up to her face once again, and in the sluggish moment that it took the words to get to your brain, she added something onto the command that absolutely knocked the wind out of you. 

“Come on. Come to Mama.” 

Her calling herself that name, so self assured, so certain - the phrase almost had you down on all fours, crawling to her like a dog. 

But instead, you scrambled to get upright and practically ran across the room to her on shaking legs. Entirely eager, you stood in front of her and leaned in to press your mouth against hers. Naturally, you expected that the interaction would start with a kiss. 

But she quickly reached up and stopped you with a hand on the side of your neck. You let out a harsh whimper of disappointment - one that quickly turned into a moan when she pressed her thumb into your windpipe with just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy. 

She was showing you who was in charge. 

“Not so fast,” She told you, her breath cascading against your lips now. 

Although she was completely naked and you were clothed, it was very apparent that she was the one in complete control. 

“Tell me how badly you want it.” She ordered, her voice low and almost gentle - a soft domineering that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up straight. 

“I want it so badly,” You easily replied, your voice intensely needy. “I need it. I need you, Em.” 

Emily reached up with her other hand and - with no warning - harshly gripped your pussy through your underwear and shorts. This caused sharp shocks of arousal to flow through you, making you moan out weakly. It was a dizzying euphoria that had you bucking into her hand. You almost came from that single touch alone. 

“Needy little thing.” She purred. “I am gonna have so much fun with you.” 

This was her last verbal sentiment before she pulled you forward by that hand on your neck and silenced any further moans with a bruising kiss.

[glitterp0prhaps0dy]

so remember when i made that post about combining trolls and one of my other faveriot movies!, so iv been brainstorming on how to combine trolls and corpse bride into an au!

so i came up with the CORPSE BROPPY AU

not everything will be the same, infact there's a lot of changes, so its more or so the concept of corpse bride that I'm combining with trolls, I have two of the character designs down! so I will share parts of their story first, then show their image, ITS POPPY AND BRANCH! obviously lol

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So, the story kicks off with a bit of a family crisis. Poppy's older sister, Viva, has mysteriously disappeared(i can explain more on that later you you want), throwing a wrench into their family plans. With Viva gone, Poppy finds herself in the hot seat, forced into an arranged marriage with a troll named Creek(YOU KNOW THE ONE AND ONLY TRAITOR) from another family. This arrangement is all about sealing deals and uniting families, but there's a catch: Poppy and Creek have to get their wedding act together in just a month. And let's just say, rehearsals are a disaster. Poppy's heart just isn't in it because, well, she doesn't love Creek. It’s like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

as you can see, poppy takes a place of victor, sorta

i really loved looking at diffrent dresses from the 1800's to design her outfit, the before is her for most of the story, her casual outfit, i kept it blue since most of poppys canon outfits are, her after outfit is more towards the end of the story.

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Imagine being insanely talented, like a piano prodigy level of talented, but instead of your gift bringing you joy, it becomes this heavy chain your family drags you around with. That's Branch's life in a nutshell. His gift at the piano wasn't celebrated in the way it should have been; it was exploited. Instead of applause filled with warmth, every clap was just a reminder of how his family saw dollar signs in his melodies. Talk about a tough crowd.

But wait, it gets more complicated. Branch's family, not satisfied with just exploiting his talent, decided to marry him off in a deal that reeked of greed. Love? Compatibility? Nope, those words weren't in their vocabulary. It was all about the money. And the person he was supposed to marry? Let's just say she took 'till death do us part' way too literally and left Branch for dead—literally. The twist? She never got caught. So there's Branch, a victim of greed and betrayal, stuck in the afterlife with a heart heavier than any piano he ever played.

This is where Branch's story gets really interesting. As the Corpse Groom, he's not just dealing with being, well, dead. He's tangled up in all the dreams and desires he never got to live out. We're talking about a guy who was robbed of the chance to find real love, to maybe play his music because it brought him joy, not because it paid the bills. His unfinished business? It's not just about finding out who killed him; it's about seeking the life and love he was denied.

as you can see, branch is in the place of emily, I decided to make his outfit more green like his vest in the movie( I imagine that the shirt is a hand me down from floyd)

corpse branch was so fun to draw to be honest, he also has a lot more story developed but that's because I'm a bit biased,woops.

FEEL FREE TO ASK ANY QUESTIONS BECAUSE I WILL BE GLAD TO ANSWER THEM.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 8/34 - fish and chips

[Read on AO3]

“So, can I buy my wife some dinner?” Mulder asks. His hands are shoved deep in his coat pockets now as they descend the steps of the courthouse, fighting back against the chill in the air. The tie comes untied practically as soon as they walk out the door, hanging listlessly around his neck.

Scully looks over at him, the word ‘wife’ somehow sounding different coming out of his mouth now that they’re outside in the real world. It does something funny to her heart.

“What do you have in mind?” she asks, maintaining her calm composure.

They’ve eaten together countless times before, in cities and towns all across the United States. On occasion, Mulder would even pick up the check, when he was feeling particularly chivalric. But this feels different. Not overtly so, but just enough to be noticeable.

They eventually settle on walking down by the harbor, where a few vendors are selling food to tourists visiting for the holidays. With a greasy basket of fish and chips each in hand, they continue walking until they hit the end of the pier, claiming for themselves a wooden bench overlooking the water.

“Some day, huh?” Mulder remarks, slathering a fry in ketchup before putting it in his mouth.

He’s a master of understatement, her partner. He would describe almost dying as a “minor injury” if she wasn’t there to give him the unwavering doctor stare. But his wry humor is one of the things she loves most about him. Among other things.

“No turning back now,” she comments, nudging his side with her shoulder. “You regret tying yourself down yet?”

He looks at her at that, his expression one of disbelief. “Never,” he answers. “You?”

“No, Mulder. I– I’m more grateful for this than you can imagine.”

His lips pull back in that easy smile she doesn’t get to see often enough, and he relaxes back against the bench. The wind coming in from the harbor is brisk, occasionally bringing a spray of mist with it. It makes his hair stick up in adorable little spikes, and she just wants to run her hands through it and smooth it down.

They’re the only ones crazy enough to be all the way out here for longer than the time it takes a tourist to snap a quick picture. The temperature is dropping quickly as nightfall approaches, and it wasn’t all that temperate to begin with, it being so close to January. Somehow, Scully still feels perfectly warm.

“So, why did you really want to get married on Christmas?” Mulder asks, after a few minutes more spent contemplating the darkening horizon.

He’s looking at her now, one arm draped casually over the back of the bench, now that he’s finished eating.

“I guess I just liked the idea of having something to remember this holiday for other than bad memories,” Scully answers, thoughts of her father and Emily filling her head. “And…”

“What?”

She pauses, wondering if she should share this somewhat embarrassing, personal detail with him. One look in his eyes and she feels her tongue loosening, and suddenly she wants to share everything with this man.

“Well, I always used to imagine a December wedding when I was a little girl,” she admits, preparing herself for the teasing she’s come to expect from her partner. 

She and Missy had loved cutting pictures out of magazines and putting them in binders, concocting the perfect futures for themselves. Over the years, the specific details of her imaginings changed as her taste did, but one thing remained the same. A winter wedding, maybe with snow. Evergreen branches and little white and red berries adorning the bouquet. Lace sleeves on an elaborate wedding dress, its long train dragging behind her in a beautiful cathedral.

Missy was the complete opposite, filling her book instead with pictures of hot summer weather and wedding dresses that were just a little too revealing. 

It’s been a long time since she’s thought of those binders, maybe still collecting dust somewhere in Maggie Scully’s house.

Mulder’s knee tilts toward hers, knocking against it affectionately. “Sorry it wasn’t quite the majestic fantasy wedding of little Dana Katherine Scully's dreams,” he says, giving that shy, apologetic half-smile she knows so well.

“I don't know…” she shrugs. “It wasn't too far off.”

He shakes his head, breathing a humorless laugh through his nose. “You don't have to lie to make me feel better,” he says.

“No, really,” she starts, turning toward him. “It– Maybe it wasn't in a big cathedral with lots of flowers and people there, but…” She looks into his eyes and then quickly glances away, hiding a blush. “Well, in a way, I married my knight in shining armor, didn’t I?”

She chances another look at him, and he’s smiling a big cheesy smile. Great, she inflated his ego.

“Oh yeah? And what armor would that be?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

She rolls her eyes. “A parka not quite warm enough for Antarctica and two layers of pants,” she answers dryly.

He tosses his head back, looking heavenward for a second and smiles. “Ah, don't forget my valiant steed: the Sno-Cat Model 2000.”

“Valiant,” she agrees, “but not the most dependable.”

As time passes, the sky fades into an inky dark blue. The harbor sparkles with the lights of countless boats, some far out on the horizon. 

It’s funny. Sometimes when she looks out there, she can almost believe her father is on one of those boats, just waiting to come back to shore. She’d always thought Ahab would be there with her on her wedding day, smiling and proud of her and walking her down the aisle. 

Now, she sort of feels like he was.

She looks over at the man next to her, contemplative as he usually is when he has nothing to say. Her father would have liked him, she thinks. Well, eventually. She has to think he would respect Mulder’s drive, and the way he cares for her. Maybe it’s foolish and idealistic, but the alternative, she doesn’t even want to consider. She’s said before that they are alike—devoted entirely to their cause. The important thing is that she’s happy, and their unconventional partnership works for them.

Nobody else’s opinion matters, only theirs. That’s the biggest lesson she’s learned in her time with Mulder.

On the way back to their car, he hands a couple dollars over to a vendor and procures two steaming cups of hot chocolate, citing that the unpleasant memory of the bone-deep chill they experienced in Antarctica was making him cold. When Scully brings the warm liquid to her lips, she catches sight again of the sparkling ring on her finger, and she stops to admire it.

“If you don’t like that one, we can trade it in,” Mulder says, taking a sip of his cocoa and watching her expectantly over the lid of his cup.

“It’s perfect, Mulder,” she says, hopefully putting any worries he might have to rest. “You didn’t have to… Just a simple wedding band would have been fine.”

He shrugs noncommittally, bouncing restlessly in place to keep warm, or maybe out of discomfort with this particular conversation. It’s a nervous tic she’s come to love, unless she’s extremely overtired, in which case it gets on her nerves quick.

“I figured it would be good to have them for interviews and stuff,” he adds, glancing around. “I mean, obviously we can’t wear them all the time, but—”

“Oh,” Scully says. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She can only imagine what the rumor mill at the Hoover building would say, if they waltzed in one day wearing matching rings. Only this time, there’d be some undeniable truth to the claims.

“Not that…I don’t want to wear it, Scully,” Mulder assures her, absentmindedly twisting his own ring with his thumb. “It’s just—”

“Yeah.”

It’s a shame, in all honesty. She likes the weight of it on her finger. It feels right, somehow. And she likes the sight of him with his on, too. It’s a tangible thing, something to remind her that he’s made a commitment to her. 

She can’t help but think that if, God forbid, another Diana ever arose, that ring would provide an assurance that would get her through it without the emotional distress she experienced the first time around. A token that validates the possessiveness she feels, warranted or not.

Mulder shifts his cup of hot chocolate from one hand to the other and digs in his pocket again. “I did pick these up, too,” he says, pulling out two long, silver chains and depositing one in her hand, “if you want to keep it somewhere safe when you’re not wearing it.”

For some reason, the fact that he’d thought of this ahead of time makes her throat clog up and her eyes sting with tears. He’s always been a bit of an odd gift-giver, bestowing her with bizarre little trinkets that either mean nothing or everything, and it's never easy to tell which. But this… It’s hard to picture him standing in a jewelry store, contemplating her taste in jewelry and the practicality of wearing it in their situation. 

How much money had he spent on it? Did he worry he was being presumptive? Had it taken five minutes or five hours to make his decision? These are questions she never thought she’d be asking herself, and it’s just proof of how crazy her life has turned out.

She wonders if he’ll take his ring off now and slide it onto his necklace, but instead he places the chain back in his pocket, a choice that seems heavy with perceived meaning. She follows his lead, tucking hers away for the time being as they continue their walk. 

Later. For now, she can enjoy the way it sparkles when the Christmas lights all around them catch it just right.

“Hey, Scully?” he says, glancing down at her beside him while they wait for the crosswalk to tell them to cross.

She looks up at him, his earnest expression setting off the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he finishes.

She smiles wistfully, looping her arm into his and leaning against his shoulder.

“Me too,” she agrees.

-.-.-

Bill is waiting up for them when they get back to Maggie Scully’s house well after it has gotten dark. The original plan had been to go their separate ways after their “errand” at the courthouse, but time had gotten away from them. She wasn’t about to send him home at this hour, only for him to have to drive back in the morning, no matter how much he protested that he would be fine.

After a brief confrontation in which Scully has to defend why her partner is still with her (“Mom invited him to Christmas, Bill”), he begrudgingly fetches a spare pillow and quilt and sets them on the couch in the living room, warning him that he’ll need to be up bright and early for present opening. Mulder salutes him sarcastically, earning a look of scorn that fizzles at Scully’s challenging stare.

“How’d the case go? You smell like seawater,” he says gruffly, hanging around far longer than needed or wanted.

“Nothing much we could do to help,” Mulder answers with their pre-prepared response. “They let us off the hook early.”

After a few more questions, which they expertly dodge, Bill disappears up the stairs to the room his family is staying in, and Mulder breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, you did it, Scully. You successfully snuck back in without your mom finding out,” he says, cracking a smile.

“Didn’t even have to climb through a window or anything,” she adds with a straight face. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

The room falls silent, save for the sound of the heater running to keep the house warm. Somewhere in the kitchen, the ice maker rattles. 

“Will you be okay down here?” Scully asks, looking over his shoulder at the couch and worrying her lip.

He glances behind himself, then turns back to her with a tender smile. “I think he probably found the quilt that smells the most like mothballs, but yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says jokingly.

She frowns. “I can get you a different blanket. There has to be more in the closet upstairs, I’ll just—”

“Scully, Scully, I was kidding,” he says, stopping her retreat by placing a hand on her upper arm. She immediately freezes, her eyes landing on the spot where his hand touches her, seemingly realizing for the first time how close they are standing.

For an instant, he reflexively pulls away as if burned, and she feels the loss like a phantom limb. But then he’s back, this time softer. Hesitant, but purposeful. 

She shifts her gaze up to meet his.

“I’ll be fine,” he reiterates, his voice dropping to a murmur. It’s all she can do to nod, lost in the dim light of the room reflected in his eyes. His eyes scan her face, lingering for a moment on her lips, and then he whispers, “Goodnight, Scully.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he’s lowering his head, and she feels his lips press against her cheek. Although it’s not an altogether unfamiliar gesture, tonight it feels… significant. He pulls back with a soft smile and releases her, not that she could move if she wanted to. It’s like her feet are glued to the floor, and her cheeks burn at the thought of getting stuck in a daze like this from such a simple action.

Fortunately, her brother saves her from further embarrassment. “Dana, you coming?” he calls from upstairs, shaking her from her stupor.

“Yeah, be right up,” she answers distractedly, eyes unable to stray from Mulder’s. She blinks a few times and frees herself from his spell, taking a step back toward the hallway. “Um. There’s towels in the bathroom,” she states, taking another step. “I’ll be in the first room on the left upstairs, if you need anything.”

He nods quietly, smiling at her in that way that makes her stomach flip.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Night, Mrs. Mulder.”

-.-.-

Sleep proves difficult, which probably shouldn’t surprise her. It’s a combination of things, really. The ceremony, the brief touch of his lips to hers in the courtroom, the kiss on her cheek before bed. ‘Mrs. Mulder,’ which is frankly, ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. And a whole host of other moments from the day that she wants to commit to memory.

It hits her, as she’s lying in bed after her shower, that this is her wedding night. It’s not at all like she grew up expecting it to be, but given the circumstances, it would be weird if it was. Things are strange enough as it is, and that—well, that would complicate it even further. 

She watches the clock on the nightstand turn to midnight, the blinking display of red numbers ushering in Christmas Day while the other side of her bed lays empty. His presence is felt, though, in the cool press of her ring to her chest, now looped around a chain and hidden beneath her clothes.

She tells herself she’s wearing it still because she doesn’t want anyone else to stumble upon it in the morning, but then she’s always been good at lying to herself. Her hand travels to it unconsciously, clutching it in a fist, reminding herself that it’s real.

She sighs, rolling over. Maybe Mulder’s insomnia is rubbing off on her. With another frustrated exhale, she sits up, lowering her feet to the floor. She gathers the knitted blanket from the foot of the bed and drags it with her, creeping to the door and prying it open slowly.

Maybe he’s still awake. They can stay up and just talk, or sneak some Christmas cookies from her mother’s tupperware. Either one would be preferable to laying awake up here all alone.

When she gets to the foot of the stairs, however, she hears the sound of steady, gentle breathing coming from the direction of the couch.

Figures, this is the one time he actually manages a good night’s rest. 

She rounds the corner into the living room and glances down at the figure on the sofa. Sure enough, his arms are tucked up against his chest, his face relaxed and tranquil. He looks so young, like this. Younger even than the day she met him. 

Oh, she loves him. Of course she does. How could she not?

The way his cheek is pressed up against the pillow makes her want to curl up next to him, but she settles for the worn La-Z-Boy recliner across the room. After draping her blanket over her lap, she tugs it over her shoulders and curls up, the overstuffed chair rocking back and forth with every movement. She watches him, in the dim light from the Christmas tree in the corner. His knees hang over the edge of the too-small couch, and yet he’s as peaceful as ever, his chest rising and falling in measured increments.

Beneath his thin, pale gray t-shirt, she sees a small, circular outline. His ring, resting right over his heart.

She closes her eyes, sending a wish to whoever might be listening that one day, that heart might belong to her, and hers to him.

~~~

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[cloudlessly-light]

But you make my heart race (Prosecutor Hotch/secretary Emily AU one-shot)

A/N: This is set in the middle of Emily working as Hotch’s secretary since I wanted to keep the prosecutor/secretary thing going, I hope you like this little one-shot!

Title: But you make my heart race  Summary: Emily wanted to push his buttons, if only just a little. It worked.

One shot from my AU Chills on a summer day but can be read on its own. Word Count: 3,1k Rating:  Explicit Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, power dynamics, spanking, rough sex

She’s been working as Aaron’s secretary for almost two months now, been sleeping with him for more than half that time. And she’s been having the best time of her life. Sure while they’re at work he can be demanding, pushing her for more, to be better, but she takes it in stride because she knows that he’s working twice as hard.  

She wasn’t sure what they were, or where things would lead, but what she did know was that she didn’t want to stop whatever they were doing. It was something she hadn’t ever experienced before, how easy it was, how fun, how thrilling it could be.  

It was carnal, exciting, the type of desire she’d only ever read about before. And then there he was, showing her the most unexpected realms of pleasure.  

As she’s getting dressed that morning she smiles to herself, he had spent the previous night teasing her until she was ready to beg him for any type of release, and when he had left she had planned her revenge. Aaron might be in charge most of the time, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t fight him a little for it sometimes.   

He had spent the previous evening in her apartment but hadn’t spent the night because he had court the next day and wanted a few more hours to prepare. She doesn’t fault him for that, he’s a fantastic lawyer. But it was a case they both knew he would win, so she was allowed to have a little fun with him. Or at least that’s what she thought.  

With that thought in mind, she capped her lipstick and grabbed her purse. It was going to be a good day.  

*    

“I’m off, I’ll be back late so I’ll probably see you tomorrow.” He says, stoic as ever with his briefcase in hand, his Rolex glimmering just under the cuff of his suit.    

“Okay Mr. Hotchner.” She smirks, always enjoying their little charade at work. As she looked at him there was something suggestive lurking in her dark orbs and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Want me to pick up dinner for you before I leave for the night?”    

“Not necessary, I’ll pick something up on the way.” He gives her a questioning look, the teasing smile still on her face makes him take a moment. She was planning something, he knew it, he knew that look.  

“See you tomorrow then.” She winks at him and he feels the familiar pull in his gut as she spreads her legs just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her smooth thighs, the hint if a hickey showing. But he’s late so he can’t drag her into his office like he wants to. Instead he nods, grips the handle of his briefcase a little harder and walks towards the elevators, still feeling Emily’s heated gaze on him. 

But as he gets closer to the courthouse he forgets about everything except the case. A case he knew he’d win. In court he was feared, superior to most. It made him feel powerful only adding to the slight arrogance that Emily would tease him about.  

He’s watching the testimony, listens as the frail man on the stand tries to defend himself from what he’s accused off, and memorize what he knows is far from the truth. He can tell that the defending lawyer is starting to close up and he gets ready to stand up for his own line of questioning.  

And then his phone buzzes on the table, Emily’s name flashing on the screen with an incoming text. He knew she wouldn’t reach out while he was in court unless it was important, she never had before, so curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the message. 

When he does he has to do a double take, a low grunt escaping him that thankfully no one seems to hear. 

It was picture of Emily, dressed in the tiniest underwear set he’d ever seen, posing on her knees in front of her bed, legs wide apart and one hand inside her panties.  

Good luck today, Mr. Hotchner. 

The large hickey he’d sucked into her thigh was fresh, meaning that she had taken that picture after he had left the previous night. And he was furious. 

Then another picture came through, this one with Emily in the same panties, minus the bra, bending over, her plump ass arched up.  

Aaron clears his throat, arousal stirring in his belly at the sight, eyes trained on the picture. 

“Mr. Hotchner?”  

He looks up at the sound of his name, and finds the judge looking at him with annoyance. 

“Do you have any questions for our defendant? Or do you have something more important to attend to?” The judge asks, her blue eyes intent as she stares him down, 

“Sorry.” He mutters, his phone landing on the desk with a dull sound and he stands up. For a moment he’s unsure what do say, his mouth dry as the pictures of Emily play on a loop in his mind.

“You- uhm.” He stops mid-sentence and clears his throat, he’s off his game and that’s never happened in court before. He takes a moment, centers himself and then looks back at the defendant who’s looking at him curiously. “You say you were alone at home at the time of the assault.”

“Yes.” The man says, voice steady and Aaron narrows his eyes.

“That’s not completely true is it?” The second the man swallows harder, Aaron knows he has him and he smiles to himself.

By the time he sits back at his table he knows he’s proven that the man in front of him is guilty and he feels confident. He looks at his phone and there’s three more messages from Emily, all more and more risqué, the last picture of her completely naked as she poses on the bed. He feels the dull ache of arousal settle between his legs, his cock stirring at the sight. He knows she’s doing this to rile him up, knows that he shouldn’t fall for it so easily, but he does, anger at her for trying to throw him off his game and arousal mixing.

He couldn’t wait to get out of there.

*

When he comes back it’s late but he knew she would be there, waiting for him. As he suspected the office was empty, almost eerie quiet as he walked through the space towards his office. As he got closer he could hear the familiar clicking of the keys on the keyboard and when he turned the corner Emily sat there, eyes on the screen but a smug smirk on her lips.  

“Good evening, Mr. Hotchner. How was court?” She met his hard stare and her smirk turned into a grin. If it weren’t for the security cameras he would have grabbed her right then and there.    

“My office.” He muttered, voice thick with pent up frustration. When she didn’t move a muscle he leaned over her desk, effectively towering over her. “Now. I won’t ask you again.” 

Emily waited another second, debating with herself if she should listen or not, but she knew that she would only make things harder for herself if she didn’t so she slowly stood up. When she started to walk the short distance to his office she could feel him behind her and her breathing was already coming out a little faster.  

Aaron closed the door with a soft click, but the second the door was shut all pretense of calm disappeared and he grabbed the back of her neck. When she hissed in surprise and pain, it was his turn to smirk and he bent her over the large desk.  

“So you think it’s fun to tease me huh?” He growled against the back of her ear and Emily shook her head the best she could. “Use your goddamn words.” His grip tightened and she whimpered.  

“No.” It came breathy, her voice trembling slightly from excitement and fear.    

“Don’t lie.” He stood up straight, the hand not pinning her to the desk moving over her body, down to the curve of her ass until he reached the hem of her skirt. When he pulled it up enough to expose her underwear he snickered. “So wet already.” His finger gently traced over her damp silk and Emily moaned softly. “You’ve waited for this all day, haven’t you?”    

“Aaron- oh!” She’s cut off by the hard spank that lands on one butt cheek.  

“Let’s try this again.” He says, his voice suddenly much calmer, restraint she’d always wonder how he possessed making her shiver in excitement. “You think it’s fun to tease me?”    

It’s a moment of silence before she nodded.  

“Yes.”  

Slap!    

“You wanted to distract me while I was in court?”  

“Y-yes.” She braces herself for the third slap that made a cracking sound as his palm connected with her skin.  

Slap!    

“You’re that desperate?” He had to stop himself from palming his erection, the reddening skin and slight whine that came from Emily each time he spanked her made him throb inside his pants. This time she didn’t answer, and he spanked her three times in rapid succession, making her squirm.    

“Fuck!” She gasped but made no move to try and get away. She could feel her slick coating her thighs, felt maddening arousal each time his hand came down.  

“Answer me.” He rubbed over her red skin as he spoke this time, enjoying the warmth that radiated off her.  

“Yes.” She whispered and when he spanked her she pressed her thighs together in a vain attempt to try and get some friction against her clit.    

“Yes, what?” He kept his grip around the back of her neck as he undid his belt and then pushed his pants and boxers down his legs. The tip of him was already slick with precum, shaft thick and hard and he slowly stroked himself.  

“Yes, I’m that desperate.” Her cheeks burned with humiliation, sweat was gathering at her temples and when she heard the low groan behind her she immediately knew what he was doing.    

“Pathetic aren’t you.” He spat the word at her and he saw her clench her thighs again in response. He knew how much she got off on being degraded like this, knew that every second he made her wait only made her more excited. Slowly he pulled her underwear down to the middle of her thighs, just enough to see the way her pussy was glistening.    

“Yes, Mr. Hotchner.” She whined, her hands desperately grabbing onto the edge of the desk to keep herself from moving.  

“Are you sorry for acting like such a slut?”    

Slap, slap, slap, slapslapslap!  

She cried out as he continued to spank her without pause and she had to shift her weight from one foot to the other to keep still.  

“Yes! Yes I’m sorry.” She cried out, tears of pleasurable pain starting to make their way down her cheeks. When his hand didn’t come down again she relaxed, his hand now gentle as he rubbed her lower back and gently comforted her.    

He waited for her to calm down, or to show any sign that she wanted to stop but she only gave a quick nod and he knew she wanted to continue. He moved behind her and pressed his front to her back, speaking right against her ear as he pushed her harder onto the desk.  

“You think you’re sorry now?” He whispered menacingly. “Just you wait, Emily.”    

Before she had the chance to reply, he was pushing inside of her with one rough stroke. He didn’t give her time to adjust to the size of him. He moved to grip both her hips, keeping her still as he set a pace that was bordering on too fast.    

She grunted at the sudden stretch, her hands that had been gripping the edge now fumbling against the smooth wood to try and brace herself. The front of her hips would be bruised from how the edge of the desk dug into her skin, matching marks would be left by his hands, and she loved it, loved every second of it.  

“Oh God.” She gasped as he groaned behind her, clearly using her body to get rid of the pent up frustration from the last few hours.

“There’s nothing I could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, is there?” He bit the back of her neck and she whined. “So desperate to please me.”

Emily could barely form a single thought, let alone string a sentence together. She felt him everywhere, her sole focus was his breathing against her ear and the feeling of him inside of her. She arched her back, hips moving back to meet his harsh thrusts. He had been right, she had been waiting for this all day, had felt the familiar thrumming of arousal since this morning.

The desk rattled underneath her every time he pushes forward, pain and pleasure mixing together and she sucked in desperate breaths of air.

“Aaron,” She whimpered, eyes rolling back as he rutted his front against her back, making sure to press against the heated skin of her ass. “so good.”

“You’re dripping onto the floor.” He taunted her and she felt another flush creep up her cheeks “Filthy thing, my perfect, filthy girl.”

Before she had the chance to say another word, Aaron straightened behind her, and she turned her head to look at him. He looked powerful, even with a wrinkled suit and sweat gathered on his forehead, his eyes looked close to wild, jaw clenched as he swallowed hard at the sight of her.

“Please.” She whispered, trying to get him to move as he continued to stand still, simply watching her. He smirked, the smugness radiating off him as he stepped further away from her, slipping out of her and she groaned.

“On your back.” He muttered as he rid himself of his suit jacket, watching her as she turned and laid back against his desk and kicking away her panties that were around her thighs. “Unbutton your shirt.” He did the same as she hurriedly got her shirt off, her fingers trembling slightly

When she laid back, her skirt around her waist and bra still on, Aaron stepped back between her legs. He slapped his cock against her clit, making her jump. The wet sound was bordering on obscene and he snickered and did it again. Then again and again.

“Beg for it.” His dark eyes flashed with something predatory at the way Emily’s skin blushed a darker shade of pink. “Beg me for my cock. Show me you know I’m the one in charge.”

It’s a beat of silence, Emily biting down on her bottom lip as she watches him as he starts to jerk his cock.

“I can easily come like this, leave you here unsatisfied and desperate, messy with my cum. That wouldn’t be a problem for me.” His eyebrow arches and he fists his cock harder.

She whines, something low and breathy as she wordlessly shakes her head. She couldn’t imagine not getting the release she had longed for all day, her body screaming at her from unreleased tension.

Her mouth opened and closed, the words somehow not forming, some of her defiance clearly still present. He noticed, his mouth pursing for a moment and then, so fast she didn’t have time to react, his palm slapped between her legs, hitting her clit with a sharp smack.

“Fuck!” She hissed, legs trying to close automatically but his hips were in the way. She looked at him, eyes wide in surprise and he only raised an eyebrow at her.

“Beg.” He said again, his shaft moving along her clit, taking away the sting of his slap.

“P-please.” She whispered but she knew it wasn’t enough. “Please fuck me.” She said louder.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it.” He cooed, his hand gentle as he caressed her cheek and then pushed his thumb between her parted lips. He sighed happily when she immediately sucked, her tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb. With his eyes on hers, he pushed back inside of her, filling her completely and she moaned. “Are you begging for my cock or for me to make you come?”

“All of it.” She gasped around his digit. “I’m begging for all of it.”

“That’s right.” He grinned, a low hum of satisfaction falling from his lips as he started to thrust. “Because you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Hotchner.” It was enough for her to please him, his thumb slipping from between her lips to her clit where he rubbed quickly, making her cry out.

He keeps her pinned with one strong hand pressing against her hip, groaning and grunting between pants as he picks up the pace of his hips. It’s hard, almost furious, the way he fucks her until she’s gripping the desk and her back is arching.

“Come on, let me feel you soak me.” He encourages her, his voice graveled and strained, his own pleasure building by every second.

She comes with a high pitched moan, her eyes rolling back and body trembling and Aaron groans against her chest. Her mind is still reeling, her ears still ringing when his hips starts to jerk, a telltale sign that he was getting close. Through blurry pleasure she grasps his neck and tugs his hair enough for him to look at her.

“Let go, so I can feel it all the way home.”

The mental image of Emily dripping of his cum on the walk home set something off in him. He growled, the sound raw and deep as he claimed her lips in a desperate kiss. His hips stayed pressed against her, his orgasm intense as his knees buckles at the forceful pleasure that rips through him and with that the last of his pent up tension leaves him.

She hums and rakes her nails through his hair, helping him come down from his high, her own thighs still twitching around his hips.

“I knew you’d like those pictures.” She teased and he chuckled breathlessly, giving them both another moment before he stood back up.

“I should have known you were up to no good after last night.” He smiles and pulls her up, placing a quick kiss to the back of her hand before pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re such a brat when you want to be.”

“And you love it, Mr. Hotchner.”

She was right, he really did.

[lordmartiya]

This prompt done by someone literal minded... What am I gonna do now?

Day 6: Injury (Hurt/Comfort)

Marinette had one weird day as Ladybug. First she had to go to the police with a gas mask to retrieve the pair of Miracolous, then, since she hadn’t been involved in the fight, had to wash them the hard way rather than use magic (thankfully Lila had shared the recipe to remove what remained after the tomato juice), then she had to go to Master Fu’s massage parlor, where Master Su had taken residence, drag him away from the tv, and explain what had happened, or at least what she knew.

And now that Lila had finally left the Prefecture (because the mess was too big for anything less than the headquarters of the police to handle, even without the whole “daughter of a diplomat” thing) she was supposed to meet her in front of Place des Vosges and get a full explanation, except she was sitting over the piled up bodies of four of Adrien’s stalkers waving her diplomatic passport, symbol of the diplomatic immunity she was taught not to use unless necessary, to Roger Raincomprix. Only good thing was that she was wearing MARINETTE’S dress, the one she had given her for the modeling job that changed their relationship. That, and the cop seemingly accepted he was more useless than usual, given Lila left him to deal with the stalkers.

“Ok, what the fuck.” Marinette demanded.

“They decided this morning’s events were part of a cunning plan to get Adrien all to myself, and tried to stop me without being able to handle the pain from a spleen shot.” Lila explained with a smile. “Hope I ruptured them.”

“No, I mean this morning!”

“Well, I was making my usual report to Gabby when he noticed my new decoy necklace, the one I had you make to hide the fact I wear the Fox Miraculous as a belt under the dress, and he asked if he could see it. I didn’t like him handling it so I said no, he threatened my job, I told him my mom’s lawyer can beat his lawyers, he said “Nooroo, Dusuu, unify”, and I sprayed him right as he was done transforming. Then I ran out of the room, closed the door, and called the police, and some idiot soon to be unemployed must have blabbed to the press since it got out so quickly. Oh, I also swiped his ring, there’s a thing I need to verify. It’s stupid and unlikely, but considering YOU have an embarrassingly plain costume…”

“Can you just let it go?”

“Giammai.” that being Italian for “never”, only hammier.

Marinette didn’t know if she should be angry or laugh. Or how they had gone from sworn enemies to this. Whatever it was that made Lila’s teasing so amusing rather than irritating, that made her want to spend as much time as possible with her. To just make sure she would never be lonely.

Before she could decide how to react, however, a smart stopped near them, and Nathalie Sanscour came out.

“This is for Gabriel and Emilie.” she said as she pulled a small pistol – and shot Lila in the chest.

“NO!” Marinette screamed as her pretend girlfriend fell. She then turned to the attacker and demanded: “Why?!”

“Because Gabriel was just trying to save Emilie. She was put in a coma and almost killed by the broken Peacock Miraculous, and-”

“And the fucker couldn’t just ask for help.” Lila’s pained voice replied before taking a deep breath – immediately imitated by Marinette, she knew what was coming.

After Nathalie got skunked, the two girls moved to safety, with Lila in clear pain and a hole in the dress but no wound. Only when they were far enough from the skunked shooter Marinette asked how Lila survived.

“A guy in Mexico makes normal-looking bulletproof clothes, there’s where my mom bought my shirts in bulk and where I just got a few undershirts.” Lila explained. “Already got shot once for an ad, though the guy had the decency to use a small .22 Long Rifle from some distance, not shooting me at point blank with a Para or larger! Seriously, that’s a Beretta Storm subcompact, it only has the 9 Para or the .40 Smith & Wesson.”

Marinette didn’t know what kind of madman made those ads, only that she felt dying when Lila was shot – and happy beyond belief when she turned out almost unharmed. How? How had she fallen for this girl?

 Afterword

Yep. Got Lila shot. I was initially planning to have one of the fan club do it, but this is Western Europe, guns are more controlled than that. Thus Nathalie did it, and is going to jail skunked.

For the bulletproof clothes… They exist, and wealthy people do buy them. Go on YouTube and look up “I was shot by Miguel Caballero”, that madman actually makes ads by shooting his customers (and his wife) at close range with a target pistol to show off that yes, his products do stop small cartridges flat (literally).

[myfangirlfanfiction]

Hugs, love letter and date night for Fugo and Abella, please? 😊💗

Valentines Selfship Ask Game 💝

I wasn't expecting another one of these ❤🌹! And for Fugo and my OC too 😩❤️ Thanks so much gurl 🥰 it's much appreciated. Here’s a link to the valentines ask game if anyone else is interested in it for themselves or would like to send some in my inbox 💌

I answered love letter in this other ask here 💗

date night — describe your ideal date with them! spare no expense, realism to the wind, what’s your dream outing?

A Halloween Masquerade Ball would be fun! 🎭✨ Maybe Giorno or Bruno invited them. The two could be at like a nearby garden or somewhere private, chatting the night away together and he’d help Abella make a bouquet in the garden. Halloween being a favorite holiday Abella would create a cute matching couples costume. She’d want to dress them up like Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride. A second choice would be a dia de los muertos theme and she’d make herself a turquoise gown and Fugo a purple suit. She’d do both of their makeup or hire a makeup artist. She’d make their masks too! Abella would drag him around everywhere and attack the dessert table. Fugo would be impressed someone so small could eat more than 8 servings of food while he eats his strawberry dessert. Abella being romantic would reminisce about the poems she has written him or about her fondest memories from their previous dates. The two would be beside each other holdings hands as they did so. Eventually she’ll get him to lay his head on her lap as they talk if they’re in the garden.

hugs — are you and f/o affectionate / open about your relationship in public?

I would say yes but not too much since Fugo needs time getting used to it. Abella is way more affectionate than Fugo but she respects his boundaries. She’d do subtle things to Fugo like caress his face, lean her head against his shoulder or back, maybe grab his hand. Fugo adores her affection but he isn’t as affectionate so it’s a good dynamic since she always initiates. She’s also very small compared to him not to mention flirty so it relaxes him and flusters him so he’ll return it.

Since Fugo is in the mafia he tries to be very careful with PDA but he also doesn’t like PDA. Much to Abellas dismay but she’s always dragging him somewhere private to steal a kiss from him. If she’s allowed to she’ll sneak touches on his legs and arms through the holes in his suit when she knows he’ll be the only one to notice.