#wlw ao3

[g0lightly]

(image credits) (deleted pin credit 1)(deleted pin credit 2)

the hounds of harrenhal is a slow-burn brienne x sansa romance within a whimsical adventure with a good mix of found family + re-found blood family fluff. don’t get it twisted, this is still pretty plot heavy. since this is a rather expansive work, there are plenty of other eventual pairings such as gendry/arya and jon/satin (i hc jon snow as the most clueless bisexual to ever live and i love him) in addition to some surprises for later.

can you spot the jenny of oldstones and prince duncan of dragonflies reference(s) in the collage? in addition to rhyming with past asoiaf-verse love stories (dunk x rohanne, jenny x duncan, elissa farman x queen rhaena, lyanna x rhaegar), THOH draws on the persephone/hades abduction myth to subvert both the hound's offer to escape with sansa during the blackwater and littlefinger's "rescue" of sansa from king's landing.

for the purposes of the fic (curse you, abandoned five year gap), sansa's been aged up to robb's twin and two years have passed in-universe.

brienne becomes the newest wearer of the hound's helm after lem when jaime sacrifices himself to lady stoneheart following an escape plan gone very wrong. as the hound, brienne enters a tourney at the eyrie as a mystery knight to win some much needed coin to help the brotherhood without banners through winter. there, lady alayne arryn begs for help escaping a doomed marriage; brienne temporarily sets aside jaime's honor-saving mission for sansa to help her. petyr baelish announces that the hound has abducted sansa stark from the eyrie and advertises a large reward for her safe return. meanwhile, tyrion is trying to use his previous marriage to sansa to claim the vale for the mountain clans and daenerys. sansa hides out in the riverlands’ magical hollow hill with brienne and the brotherhood, falling in love as tensions within the realm build up to a second dance of the dragons amid a years-long winter. when love is the death of duty, what happens when your duty is to the one you love? this work will ultimately take place over the course of several years, weaving in new allies and foes for our star-crossed lovers as the realm moves from crisis to crisis. for generations to come, all of westeros will sing of harrenhal’s hounds and its witch queen. but life is not a song; in this story, it is far sweeter.

meta thoughts below the cut on why a future briensa is objectively one of the best ASOIAF ships in terms of thematic potential.

briensa has the best elements of the far more popular s*ns*n and br*ime ships except they're both teenagers and, crucially, brienne has never held sansa at knifepoint 🩵 no shade to either ship though bc the themes those relationships explore have sent brienne and sansa on journeys that have made them kind of perfect for each other; ie, the subversion of brienne being a protector to sansa rather than a threat is especially relevant if brienne is the next hound after lem!!! alexa play god bless the broken road

brienne is the hero sansa prayed for!!! sansa has learned to put more trust in disfigured people than "beautiful" people which means she can see brienne's beauty in a way she cannot!!! thematically it would be well supported yet subversive for sansa’s true knight and true love to be a jonquil darke type rather than a florian type 🥹 thematically i think the surest route to true love for sansa is a naerys + aemon situation so why not make it like alysanne and jonquil if they ✂️? it's not my fault grrm accidentally (?) wrote sansa as a closeted femme4butch!!!!

[chiquilines]

Okay small confession to make. Im obsessed with rarijack

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

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taglist: @opropheticsoul

[dykeforhire]

Taste for A Favor | E.P.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Summary: Emily opens up to you about her feelings regarding sex after menopause… you decide to help her out.

Tags: (18+) smut (oral, face!fucking, dirty!talk, body worship, scissoring, fingering), bit of an age-gap, struggles with self-confidence.

Word count: 12.6k

masterlist || read on ao3

a/n: the LONG AWAITED meno fic is finally here milf lovers… enjoy !! this is so unrealistic... but hey, its porn.

…

After being at the BAU for so long, you’ve grown quite a bond with the team. You consider Penelope, JJ, and Tara to be some of your closest friends, inside and outside of work, and Luke—the brother you never had. Rossi is practically a father to everyone, so of course, you feel the same.

And then there is Emily. 

The infamous Emily Prentiss, so very poised and always effortlessly catching the attention of everyone around her. 

You aren’t quite sure where the relationship between the two of you lies. 

You’d say good friends, but then again, there has always been that strange static energy when it comes to you and her. Not to mention, the way your breath always seems to catch in your throat whenever Emily looks at you, or the way you’ve always been drawn to the way her perfume lingers in the air even after she leaves the room.

Technically, it’s a crush, which is somewhat embarrassing to say at your grown age, but also embarrassingly true.

She is the older, wickedly attractive, silver-vixen of a boss that romance novels preach about. And you just so happen to be an absolute sucker for the taboo, and for her.

That being said, it’s sort of a fairytale in the making as to how you ended up in Emily’s upscale apartment in the district, after a long and stressful day of paperwork and meetings at Quantico. It feels as though it was by some divine intervention that out of all the women on the team, you were the only one available for an impromptu ‘girls night’.

When you arrived at her doorstep, Emily was already out there waiting, sitting comfortably on her stoop, a half-smoked cigarette betwixt her fingers.

She had changed clothes since she left the office earlier in the evening, trading her sleek button-down blouse and tailored slacks for a pair of black sweatpants and a pullover sweater, the neckline cut wide enough for it to fall off one shoulder.

The warm light of the street lamps caught on her skin, making the faint protrusions of her collarbones and the ball of her shoulder glow.

Her hair was another thing.

The thick silver locks were thrown up into a messy knot at the back of her head, a few loose white strands from her crown and temples framing her face. 

She looked effortless, remarkably domestic. It was then that you found domesticity to be your favourite look on her.

“Hey! I’m so glad you could make it. All the others bailed, haha.” She reached out with her free hand, greeting you with a pat to the bicep.

“So I see… we’ve never gotten a chance to hang out alone, so… I’m sure it’ll be a good time.” You chuckled nervously, shifting the bag of takeout from one hand to the other.

She led you up the stairs with a smile, stamping her cigarette on the stone wall and tossing it behind her.

You never thought climbing a single flight of stairs could be so tolling until you were stuck climbing behind her. 

Her scent wafted into your senses with each step, that expensive French perfume and the lingering cigarette smoke in her hair. You felt like you were suffocating in the most brilliant of ways. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Not to mention the way her hips swayed beneath the loose fabric of her sweats, the cotton clinging to her body in all the right places.

You stood behind her as she unlocked her front door, pretending not to stare at her exposed shoulder blade or the scandalous curve of her neck and jaw.

Stepping inside, you were met with the scent of earthy candles, and something very uniquely Emily.

“Here, I'll take that from you…” She placed her keys on the foyer table and spun to face you, taking the bag from your hand. “You go settle in, I’ll plate this up.”

“Sounds good.” You gave her a tight but friendly smile, adjusting the hem of your shirt nervously.

You watched her float into the kitchen mindlessly, sighing to yourself in somewhat disbelief that you were spending alone time with the object of your most recent romantic desires. 

…

Emily returns to the living room with two plates balanced in one hand, a bottle of white, and two wine glasses in the other.

“Thank you, thank you.” You take the plates from her and set them down on the table in front of the couch.

She drops down beside you with a tired groan, the knot of her hair bouncing animatedly.

“Thank god for wine and you, for the take-out.” She grins, setting the glasses down and pouring a healthy amount in each.

“Cheers to that…” you laugh, tilting the glass toward her before taking a long sip.

“So…” Emily starts, taking a bite of her food. “What have you been up to lately… when the BAU isn’t holding you hostage?” 

“Ahh, the age-old question…” You chuckle, picking at your food before gathering it onto your fork. “Nothing much, I usually just laze around in my spare time or enjoy some retail therapy.” You shovel the food into your mouth.

“I get it, nights like this are a rare commodity.” She sets the plate on her lap and reaches towards the side table. “Wanna put on a movie or a show? What’s good on TV lately?”

She hands you the TV remote, which you take carefully, flicking the TV on and opening one of her various streaming services.

“Hmm, how about… here, this’ll do.” You decide on some home renovation series you’d binged recently, a mix of hoarder house and fixer-uppers.

Setting the remote down, you start eating again, only half paying attention to what is on the screen.

Reaching for your wine glass, you take a quick glance at Emily. Your heart almost stops dead in your chest when you see the angular black frames resting on the bridge of her nose. 

You’d never seen her in glasses before, so it’s understandable why one would be surprised—but you were rendered speechless for a whole other reason.

She looks undeniably sexy wearing glasses, especially paired with the messy hair and lounge clothes.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, voice wavering slightly.

“Oh yeah, have for years now.” She rattles off as if the information isn’t turning your insides to mush. “I wear contacts at the office, just makes it easier.” She pushes the frames up a bit as they’ve slipped down while she’s been eating.

You watch the way her throat bobs as she swallows, the way her tendons tighten and release.

“You should wear them more often, they look nice, fitting.” You shake yourself out of your filthy thoughts, downing the remainder of the wine in your glass.

“Really?” She turns to you, her brow arched curiously. “I think I look like a dweeb.”

“Hey… dweebs are hot.” You wave your hand, nonchalance dripping from the statement as you try your hardest not to let your voice crack.

“If you say so…” she laughs softly, nudging your arm with her knuckles. 

Emily pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she focuses back on the TV, and you can help but watch. You can see how her tongue glides over her lips, collecting crumbs of misplaced food, and how the muscles of her jaw clench as she chews.

Alright…

You settle back into a comfortable silence after that. After finishing up your food, you reach over to place the empty plate on the table—Emily catches your wrist before you can.

“I’ll take that.” She gives you a soft squeeze, smiling as she grabs the plate from your hand.

“Thanks…” 

As she wanders off into the kitchen, you take a moment to calm your nerves. Despite nearing your forties, attractive older women still maintain the ability to make you behave like a fool as if you’re sixteen years old.

Emily, plopping back onto the couch, pulls your attention back to reality. She smiles at you crookedly as she gets comfortable, folding one of her legs beneath her bottom.

“Hey, I never asked how you’re doing? What have you been up to?” There’s a slight gravel in your voice as you speak, and you take a sip of wine to soothe it.

Emily sighs as she takes in your question, which pulls a curious arc to your brow.

“Nothing good, huh?” You set the glass down, shifting on the cushion to face her.

“No, it’s just… I don’t know, when you get to this stage in life, I’m sure you’ll understand much more.” She pauses, the words arranging in her mind. 

“Understand what? I’m not that far behind you, y’know?” you chuckle, your hand reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, urging her to speak further.

“Yeah, yeah…” she scratches at the back of her neck, making a crooked face. “It’s just—ugh, I want to be getting out more. But this job, and life… it’s just so complicated.”

“I get that. Would you rather have gone to the bar tonight? We can totally still go out—”

“No, no… I wanted to stay in tonight.” Emily cuts you off. “I guess I mean it in more of the dating aspect.”

Oh.

Emily wants to start dating again…

“So you want to start dating? I’m sure that’s no issue for you, Emily. We’re in DC… there’s apps, there’s work events.” You attempt to help assure her, but you can’t deny the tiny pang of jealousy in your belly.

“I know, but…” Emily groans, taking a long sip of her wine. “It’s just hard… putting myself out there. Post-menopausal women aren’t really a hot commodity nowadays…”

You can help but scoff at the ridiculous statement, eyeing her incredulously.

“You haven’t been on the Internet recently, have you? Because I can assure you, Emily… they most certainly are.” You chuckle, leaning back against the armrest behind you.

“Okay, but it’s not just that—” she pauses, shaking her head a bit in thought. She pushes her glasses atop her head, her dark eyes a bit watery. “I want someone who understands what it’s like. To be a woman of a certain age.”

“Okay?” You urge her on, angling your head a bit closer. “So you want someone who’ll be able to cater to your needs.”

Your heart skips a few beats as the topic of conversation settles into place. Sex. Or more specifically, Emily Prentiss’s sexual needs.

“I started using those estrogen patches to help with the y'know—dryness, hot flashes, and whatever...” Emily motions downwards with her hands, vaguely. “And it’s been working well for me; my body feels more mine than it has in years. But, I’ve still been struggling with achieving… release, I guess you could say—or at the very least, having a pleasurable experience regardless of if I finish or not.”

Emily looks slightly defeated as she slumps against the cushions of her couch, the liquid in her glass swirling idly.

“Well, what do you think would get you where you wanna be?” You ask, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and your temple against your knuckles.

“I don’t know… maybe if someone else does the touching, it would feel better.” Emily sighs. “But I haven’t really had time to find dates, let alone find someone who’d even be interested in a woman like me…”

The comment makes you stir a bit; the fact that a woman as beautiful as Emily thinks that anyone would pass up on a chance to go out with her, let alone sleep with her, is rather bizarre in your mind.

Matter of fact, if given the chance, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Oh come on…” You swat at the older woman's thigh. “I bet you’ve got hoards falling at your feet. You’re fucking stunning.” 

“Oh, you’re just saying that…” Emily scoffs.

“Puh-lease, Emily… you have no idea.” You roll your eyes, hand lingering a little too long near her leg.

“Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?” Emily looks at you curiously, her brow arched high.

“All I’m sayin’ is, if you gave me a chance… psh” You trail off, waving your hand in the air shamelessly, averting your eyes from her gaze. 

She studies your face for a moment, a tiny smirk crooked at the corner of her mouth. The wine has brought a faint red glow to her cheeks, and the few stray hairs that’ve slipped loose from their hold under the glasses, framing her face gracefully.

“So you’re saying that given the opportunity, you—my agent—might I remind you, would sleep with me?” Her smile grows as she asks the question, the flush spreading down to her chest.

“Absolutely.” You deadpan, internally grateful for the third glass of wine in your system for a bit of liquid courage.

The lines at the corners of her eyes crinkle as her smile grows to its full capacity, the dim candlelight flickering across her features.

“Really?” Her brow worries, a line creasing through her t-zone. “You don’t think I’m too old and withered?” Emily chuckles, brushing a hair away from her lip.

“I think you’re everything.” Your gaze fixes on her, maintaining eye contact. The deep brown of her irises sparkles like the night sky as she stares back at you, a faint glistening of tears peeking over her waterline. 

“God, you’re so young…” she chuckles, placing the wine glass on the side table. “I’m sure you have better things to do than… me.”

You laugh softly in return, mirroring her position and placing your glass on the table. Shifting closer to her, your knee presses into the side of her thigh.

“I’m not that young, and you are most certainly very high on my to-do list.” You murmur, watching the way Emily reacts. You reach a hand out, knuckles brushing along the top of her thigh.

Emily’s breath hitches slightly at the contact, the muscle tensing below the fabric of her sweatpants.

“Y/n…” she whispers, her chest rising unsteadily.

“Emily…” you whisper back, matching her empathetic tone.

“You’re sure? About wanting that, I mean.” Emily looks at you, her lashes fluttering shyly. 

You smile at her, reaching up to brush your fingers along the curve of her jaw.

“I’m gonna be very honest with you right now, Emily…” Your thumb traces the swell of her chin, the underside of her lip. “I’ve thought about getting my hands on you since I first transferred onto the team.”

“Oh, m-really!?” Emily sighs almost in disbelief, as her eyes traverse your face rabidly, taking in the details. 

“Yes.” You breathe out, leaning in close enough to smell the lingering wine on her lips and laundry detergent on her clothes. “And what about you, hm? Is that, or—am I, something you’d be interested in?”

Emily silences, her gaze noticeably falling to your lips. You part them subconsciously, a hand cupping her cheek as you slowly lean in, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

“Yeah… I’m very interested right now.” Her eyes flick up to yours one last time before she sinks fully into you, her soft lips pressing against yours in an almost feather-light kiss.

You pause for a moment, letting her take a breath, letting her relax. 

When her palms land on your hips, you move forward, pressing your mouths together harder and deepening the kiss. Emily hums softly as your fingers curl around the back of her head—the vibrations reverberating against your teeth.

You let her take the lead, her tongue darting out and dragging across your bottom lip teasingly, before curling into your mouth. You suck on it gently before releasing and re-attaching your mouths in a passionate onslaught. 

Emily sucks in a sharp breath as you nip at her bottom lip, your free hand gripping at her thigh. She pulls back and rests her forehead against yours, her breathing quick and labored against your lips.

“Jesus…” Emily pants, her thumb drawing circles against your abdomen through the fabric of your shirt.

“I hope that was a good ‘Jesus’…” you chuckle, scratching at her scalp with blunt fingernails.

“It was a good ‘Jesus’, trust me.” The silver-haired woman laughs. “That was very, very nice.”

“Just nice?” You question sarcastically, leaning against the back of the couch to look at her properly. Emily scoffs and rolls her eyes, her fingers tracing the hem of your top. 

Your hand slips from her hair and reaches for the glasses atop her head, pulling them from her tresses and tossing them onto the table next to her wine glass.

“Hey! Those were expensive.” Emily feigns concern, as if she hasn’t got about ten other pairs lying around as well as a hefty amount of cash stashed away in her savings.

“I’ll get you a new pair…” You mumble, leaning in to kiss her again. Emily whimpers softly, her hand clutching at your waist to pull you closer. 

It’s a bit sloppier as you take the reins this time, your tongue rolling languidly into her mouth and tangling with hers. Your teeth scraping at her bottom lip, fingers resting on the curve of her shoulder as your body rolls with the momentum of the kiss.

The skin that peeks out from the wide collar of her sweater is hot to the touch, soft and smooth against the pads of your fingers.

Trailing up the side of her neck, your fingers dance over the veins and tendons that dance with the motions of her jaw, protruding ever so slightly at the exertion. The tip of her nose rubs against your cheek as she tilts, opening her mouth and letting you lick inside—the essence of wine and leftover cigarette sinking into your tastebuds.

Scooting closer, you raise your leg and settle it atop hers, overheated bodies pressing into each other. 

Emily hums, and her hand slips down to rest on the muscle of your thigh, squeezing. Your hips lurch forward at the pressure, a twinge of arousal surging through you.

You pull back from the kiss to catch your breath, both hands clutching at the base of her skull.

“Can I touch you?” You murmur, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yeah…” Emily exhales, her other hand clutching at your shoulder blade from under your arm. “Please, touch me.”

You dive back in with a nod, kissing her hard but slow. Taking your time in savouring the way your tastes mingle, the way she feels.

One hand leaves her neck, trailing lower. You memorize the dips and curves of her chest through the fabric of her sweater, feeling along her collar bones, her ribs, the curve of her breast—but not where she wants you most just yet.

When you reach her stomach, you pull back just enough to watch her expression, savoring the way her breath hitches when your fingers dip under the hem of her top and press against her soft belly.

“You’ve got cold hands…” Emily shudders, the muscles of her stomach flinching.

“I’m sure you’ll warm them right up.” 

Emily’s eyes flick open and lock with yours momentarily. And with a quiet moan and furrowed brows, she leans in again—sucking at your bottom lip harshly before licking over it and kissing you properly.

Your hand travels further across the expanse of her abdomen as she kisses you deeply, tracing the curve of her lower belly and over the faint ripples of muscle below her diaphragm.

Emily freezes when your thumb brushes against the aged ridges of the scar jaggedly carved into the left side of her abdomen. You know exactly what it is, everyone knows.

The age-old tale of when Emily Prentiss died at the hands of Ian Doyle, and somehow miraculously survived.

You feel the shift in her demeanor as you press fully against it, fingertips tracing the faint ridges where sutures once lay.

“Is this okay?” You whisper against her lips, pressing a soft peck to the corner of her mouth.

“I-yeah. Yes. It’s okay.” She stutters, her thoughts seemingly jumbled. “Just don’t linger too long, okay?” 

“Okay.” You smile gently. “You’re beautiful, Emily… so beautiful.” You drag your fingers away from the old wound, tracing lower along the arch of her hip bones.

Emily whimpers as you kiss her gently, lips just barely pressing against hers.

The hand that still rests on the side of Emily’s neck reaches up and pulls the tie from her hair, the thick silver locks cascading down her shoulders and back.

The strands tickle your face as you move to tuck them away, fingertips brushing over her cheekbone.

“I love your hair… grey looks sooo sexy on you.” You murmur between chaste kisses, your hands flexing against her waist.

“Yeah?” She pants breathlessly, her hand squeezing your bicep as the tension seems to thicken between the two of you.

“Yeah…” You break away from her mouth, eyes flicking open and locking with hers before you shift lower, planting kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

The warm, aged skin is soft and pliable beneath your lips as you suckle at her pulse point, eliciting a tiny gasp from her throat. Your teeth graze the flesh as you move lower, using the hand in her hair to lift her chin, giving yourself more access.

“That feels good.” Emily sighs, her body slowly leaning further into the armrest of the couch. You let out a low hum, nipping at the underside of her jaw as you press her back fully against the cushion. 

Emily’s arches into your touch as the hand beneath her shirt trails higher, palm flat against the curve of her ribcage. Your thumb glides over the underwire of her bra teasingly, pulling a tiny gasp from the older woman. 

“Can I?” You whisper against her lips, her quick breaths fanning across your face with the closeness.

“Yes.” Emily exhales, nodding eagerly as your fingers trace the padding of the cup.

You palm a full breast, and Emily moans—her hands pawing at you through your clothes. You can feel the faint outline of her nipple as you squeeze, hardening with each groping touch.

With a desperate groan, you shift on top of her, your legs bracketing her thighs. Emily looks up at you with drooping eyelids, her hands moving to rest on each side of your waist—fingertips prodding into your flesh.

“And this? Okay?” You ask quietly, dipping down to nuzzle at her cheek.

“Yeah… keep going, please.” She squeezes your hips gently, her chest pushing into your touch.

You smile at her eagerness, cupping her breasts with both hands now. The silken fabric is warm to the touch, its smoothness pairing well with Emily’s soft skin. 

You lean down to kiss her again, lips meeting in a desperate mess of teeth and tongue. Emily’s breathing is shaky and shallow as you scrape your nails over the padding, teasing her covered nipples. 

Emily pulls away suddenly, the movement so rushed it almost knocks you off her lap altogether. Her arms clamber at her own back as she shakily reaches under the sweater, unclasping her bra and pulling her arms through the sleeves.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the older woman as she struggles to free herself from the straps, wriggling beneath the thick fabric as if it were a straitjacket.

“Got it?” You chuckle, quirking a brow.

“Mhm… just a second.” Emily chokes out, her arms untangling and slipping back through the sleeves—one hand holding a simple grey bra.

She tosses it across the room before returning her attention to you, smiling and shrugging in a way that makes your heart skip a beat before lurching forward, reconnecting your lips in a fiery, passionate kiss.

A muffled moan slips into her mouth with the force of it, your hand grasping at her waist.

Using your free hand to stabilize yourself on the back of the couch, you press forward, righting yourself on her lap. Your hips rock in tandem with the kiss, rolling subtly over the meat of her thighs.

Emily hums, clutching at the sides of your face as your hands slip beneath her sweater again. Her skin is practically boiling, a hot flush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest.

You run your fingers up her flanks, tickling at her ribs before tracing your thumbs along the underside of her breasts. Emily shivers as you tease the sensitive skin, her nails digging into your neck ever-so-slightly.

Her nipples are fully peaked when you finally brush over them, her areolas puckered. The thought of her being so affected from a simple makeout session sends a sharp twinge of arousal straight through you, compelling your hips to grind harder into her lap.

Emily pulls back with a hiss as you squeeze at her bare breasts, pinching her nipples between your index and middle fingers. You watch attentively, studying her reactions as if you were scanning them into your brain.

You think for a moment that a memory as beautiful as this deserves to be kept close and sacred for all eternity.

Urging yourself on, you crane down and kiss along her exposed throat, nipping at the veins pulsing just below the surface. Emily’s hums, her svelte fingers tangling at your nape as you drag your tongue over her pulse point.

Tugging on your hair, Emily pulls your mouth back to hers. The kiss she plants on you is wantonly needy, the way her tongue drags across your lips before her teeth bite into it drives you practically up the wall.

Sliding halfway off her lap again, you drag your nails over her breasts and down her abdomen. The way her muscles jump and twitch below the skin fascinates you.

Looping an arm around her lower back, you tug her side against the front of your body. Emily squeaks in response, her torso twisting near unnaturally to keep your mouths connected.

Your hand runs flat over her pelvis and down to her thigh, squeezing at her knee before sharply scraping back up, your callouses catching on the worn fabric of her sweatpants.

Her hips cant forward as you tease at the hem, fingertips brushing over the skin of her belly.

“Please…” Emily whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your upper lip and then the bottom.

“Please, what?” You murmur, drawing teasing circles around her belly button. “I need you to tell me exactly what you need, Emily. I want this to be perfect for you.”

“God, these are not the type of orders I’m used to giving…” she laughs breathily, tucking her face into your neck. “Just touch me… I’ll let you know if something needs to change.”

“Okay.” You press a kiss to her temple.

Emily inhales deep and shakily, her lips brushing against your collarbone. 

Squeezing her hip, you slowly let your fingers dip beneath the waistband. Immediately, you can feel the damp heat of her sex. 

“Oh god…” Emily sighs, spreading her legs further to accommodate you.

“So warm… I take it I’m doing well so far?” You quip, earning yourself a sharp bite to the side of your neck, most definitely leaving a mark.

“I’ll take that as a yes…” you grumble, cupping her pussy through her thin cotton panties.

Emily whines, pushing her hips into your palm to gain more pressure, only for you to pull away. You chuckle lowly as she lets out a needy plea, her hands still clutching desperately at the back of your head.

“I’m taking my time with you, be patient.” You murmur into her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair.

Emily stays silent as you slip your hand back into her pants, fingers trailing down her inner thighs before teasing the edge of her gusset. She sucks in a shuddered breath at the light touch, her thighs spreading impossible wider.

When you finally slip past the hem of her panties, the pads of your fingers immediately come into contact with the wiry curls between her legs.

“Sorry…” Emily mutters shyly against your neck, her face tucked just below your jaw. “If I had any idea this was gonna happen, I would’ve shaved.”

“Don’t worry about it…” You rake your fingers through the hair and press a gentle kiss to the bit of shoulder peeking out from the loose collar of her oversized sweater. “I’m a big girl… I like it.”

Emily shivers in your grasp, her hips twitching—the pressure of your palm seemingly doing wonders in working her up. Using just your middle finger, you slip lower and let it press between her folds, finding her warm and wetter than you thought she’d be.

“You’re wet…” you mumble against her shoulder, licking a broad stripe up the side of her neck as your finger draws teasingly along her slit.

“Yeah…” Emily gasps, her hips rutting against your hand. “I told you the hormones were working.”

“God, you’re so hot.” You groan, gathering some arousal and dragging it up to her clit, tracing light circles around it.

“Hm-fuck…” she whines, her muscles tensing and fingernails digging almost painfully into your scalp.

“Feel good?” You let your head rest against hers, your lips brushing at the shell of her ear.

Emily makes various whiny and illegible noises before she finally responds, her stomach clenching in concentration.

“Yeah, it’s good…” she pants, choking in her breath. “Just keep the touches light, more sensitive that way.”

“Okay…” you press a kiss to her cheek, continuing your slow, teasing strokes against her clit.

You can feel your own arousal starting to pool in your underwear simply from hearing the sounds Emily makes. The quiet gasps, the needy whines and whimpers, it all sends a thick wave of heat through your body, saturating every nerve ending in a heady glaze of want.

Trailing wet kisses along her neck and shoulder, you begin to slip from your spot atop her thigh, your knees sliding off the edge of the couch and slowly landing on the area rug below.

“Wha—where are you going?” Emily turns towards you, a worried crease between her brows.

“I wanna taste you…” You murmur, nuzzling your face into her soft chest. “Can I taste you?” You meet her gaze with wide, sparkling eyes as you kiss the tops of her breasts through the fabric of her sweater.

“Yeah…” Emily pants, breathlessly. “Please.”

You smile softly, your hand leaving the confines of her panties and resting at the curve of her hip as you settle yourself on the floor between her knees.

Emily leans back and pushes her hips towards you, her face flushed and lips parted. She watches with intent as you lift the hem of her top, exposing her soft lower belly. 

Diving in, you press a featherlight kiss just below her navel. Emily sucks in a breath at the feeling of your mouth, damp and soft against her heated skin. You can feel the pale peach fuzz beneath your lips as you drag them higher, mouthing at the skin of her upper abdomen.

Emily’s hands cup the sides of your head, her thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, the tips just barely touching your eyelashes. 

Her skin tastes just as sweet as imagined as you drag your tongue along the vast plains of her stomach, with a faint hint of savory perspiration. The skin prickles with goosebumps as you trail higher, lifting her sweater as you go and revealing her breasts.

Just the sight of the thick, heavy flesh makes your mouth water. 

You sit back on your heels slightly, using the tips of your fingers to hold the sweater out of the way as your palms press into the sides of her breasts. Your eyes are wide as you frantically explore the newly exposed skin, admiring every stretch mark, freckle, or sun spot, as well as the dusky pink of her nipples.

Leaning forward, you press a solid kiss to the shiny skin in the valley between her breasts, inhaling deeply.

Your kisses grow wet and sloppy, tongue laving along the hot underside of the globes. Emily lets herself fall into the spell of your attention, the pleasure. Her head falls back, tendons growing tought beneath the skin as her chest rises and falls in shallow breaths.

You look up to watch her expression when your mouth reaches her nipples, kissing the bud before dragging a flattened tongue over it.

“Oh-” Emily jerks, her head tilting forward and her gaze landing on your mouth. 

Your tongue flicks out at her nipple, drawing a choked gasp from Emily’s throat. Her cheeks grow a darker shade of red the longer she watches, her lips parted in a silent moan.

“Such a tease” She sighs, her breath fanning across your face. “C’mere… take this off of me.” Emily brushes the hair from your face, smoothing her fingers over your crown.

Excitedly, you crane up to peck her lips before sliding your hands up her sides and into the sleeves of her sweater, pushing it over her head, swiftly and discarding it somewhere on the other side of the couch.

You take a moment to admire her half-nude form, her reddened skin, her chest—still covered in the sheen of your saliva, her tousled silver hair; she is a prime example of the purest form of beauty.

You reach out, brushing the tangled strands from her collarbones before tracing over her shoulders and down her arms. When you reach her hands, you take them in your own, pulling them towards your face. 

Emily stares wondrously as you kiss her knuckles, down to the tips of her individual fingers, then her calloused palms. When you reach her wrist, you slowly run your finger along the sleek leather of her watch, unclasping it before gently sliding it off her wrist and placing it on the end table.

Your lips brush against the sensitive skin, her pulse thrumming beneath the light pressure of your thumb. A quiet whimper falls from the older woman’s mouth as you kiss along her wrist and up her arm, painstakingly slow and with lustrous intensity.

Emily slips one hand from your grasp, using it to tug you in by the hair.

Her mouth is a force as it collides with yours with a renewed passion, sucking you in as if she were trying to swallow you whole.

“Please.” She whispers, nipping at your swollen bottom lip.

Your hands cup the sides of her ribcage, feeling the ridges with the pads of your thumbs.

“Patience…” you draw the word out in a hushed whisper against her lips, nipping at the bottom one before dipping to the side again and kissing along her shoulder.

Emily groans impatiently, her flushed skin almost glistening as she struggles to hold herself back.

You smirk as you drag your tongue, hot and languid, over her right collarbone, dipping into the hollow of her throat, then the other. 

Her chest rises and falls almost frantically at the attention, her head tilting back to allow you more access.

You accept the offer graciously, a hand reaching up to catch her head as it lolls back—your lips latching on to the spot below her ear that pulls a gasp from her lungs.

With a drag of your teeth, you slip lower once again.

Your mouth moves tirelessly over her chest and the rounded edges of her breasts, your nose brushes at her side as you lavish her with undivided attention.

You inhale her deeply, breathing in the scent of sweat and skin, the intoxicating essence of her deodorant mixed with something entirely Emily.

She’s everywhere in your senses, and it makes you feel like you’re floating in space, watching it all happen from above.

You take her nipple into your mouth, and Emily breathes out shakily, arching into the suction of your lips, the swirling of your tongue.

Your teeth scrape over the bud and pull a surprised yelp from the older woman, her eyes shoot down to catch yours.

Her pupils are so blown that you can’t even tell where they end and her irises begin. The pride that surges through you is almost painful, curling deep in your chest, lungs going taught and then unfurling hotly.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, watching your face with half-lidded eyes as you shift to the opposite breast, giving it the same treatment.

Your hands glide down the length of her torso, palming the sides of her chest before your nails rake down her belly. Emily shivers, her hips twitching and her covered mound brushing against your abdomen. 

Finally, you lean back on your heels, letting your eyes take her in one last time.

You sit perched between her legs, palms driving up the underside of her thighs. The muscle trembles faintly, you wonder if it’s the anticipation or nerves—maybe both.

“Scoot a bit closer toward the edge for me, beautiful.” You murmur, dipping down to press a gentle kiss to her knee.

Her urges forward at the request, wiggling her hips as she slides closer—her ass just barely hanging off the edge of the couch cushion.

“Can I take these off?” Your fingers curl into the waistband of her sweats, teasing the hot skin at her panty line.

Emily doesn’t speak, she doesn’t trust her voice, she nods furiously—lifting her hips in the air for you to slip the fabric over her ass.

You pull the pants down agonizingly slow, revealing endless miles of leg. When the pants reach her ankles, you pull her socks off with them.

With the fabric discarded across the room, your head rests against her soft inner thigh, eyes dancing curiously over her most intimate region.

Your blunt nails scratch at the top of her thigh, noting the way a faint dusting of goosebumps rises on the flesh. Reaching the apex, your fingertips trace the hem of her panties, dipping teasingly beneath.

Emily hisses at the contact, like your touch scalds.

The thin, dark blue cotton sits slightly askew on her hips, the damp spot above her center darkening the fabric wickedly.

“Have I ever mentioned how brilliant you look in blue, Chief Prentiss?” You murmur, eyes flicking up at her through your lashes before landing on her center again.

Emily grumbles at the title, her hand brushing your hair back from your forehead.

“No, agent Y/L/N, I don’t think you have…” She plays along confidently, and it makes your breath stutter. 

You bite your lip nervously; that proud tone in her voice always makes you so weak.

“Well, you do…” You tilt your face, letting your nose drag along her thigh. “Absolutely…” You press a kiss to the meaty flesh of the apex. “Fucking…” another, right above her covered pubic hair. “Brilliant.” 

With the last words you press your mouth directly atop her clit, the bud twitching as your lips close in a slow—wet kiss.

Emily chuckles breathily as she slumps against the back of the couch, and it almost sounds like it’s mixed with a moan.

Your palms grip the backs of her knees, lifting and pressing them apart.

You breathe her in, the thick, heady scent of her arousal sending a shiver down your spine, the hairs on your arms standing.

You kiss lower, tongue swiping out to taste her through the thin fabric. 

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Your nose rubs her clit as you practically make out with her covered pussy, her nails digging into your scalp—pressing your face closer.

“Oh, babe…” Emily moans softly, her mouth hanging open. “Please, fuck—I need to feel that pretty mouth.”

You let out a deep, needy groan, the vibrations sending a jolt straight through her.

Without a word, you sit up, gripping the hem of her panties and tugging them down so roughly the fabric pops.

Emily gapes at the aggressive movement, her breasts swaying as she shifts up for you again, letting you tear the fabric from her legs.

You gaze at her flushed face first, she looks positively ravished, then you look at the damp cotton in your hands.

“I’m keeping these.” You declare smugly, bringing them up to your face and breathing her in before shifting onto your knees and shoving the panties in your back pocket.

“Filthy thing you are…” she murmurs, her eyes glassy with arousal. 

A grin spreads across your face at the phrase, a tiny whine bubbling in your throat from the slight degradation mixed in.

You take in her utterly nude state, the tuft of salt and pepper curls between her legs now on full display. Your mouth waters at the sight of her, saliva pooling under your tongue.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Emily leans forward, her foot drawing over your clothed inner thigh.

“Am I? Maybe you should help me out of them then?” You lift your arms, and Emily’s hands immediately grasp at the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion.

Her hands are at your belt next, her fingers tugging it open and reaching for the button of your jeans. You’re on your feet quicker than she has time to ask you to stand, pants falling down your thighs before stepping out of them.

Emily’s whimpers as she takes in the tightness of your underwear on your hips, the curve of your breasts in your sports bra.

She reaches for you, her fingers digging into the backs of your thighs. She pulls you to stand between her legs, her hands sliding over the curve of your ass and scratching up your back.

“Jesus…” she pants, her eyes wide. 

Her mouth is on you next, soft lips pressing kisses to your belly. You shove her backwards by the shoulders before she can get too far, falling back against the couch with an oof.

“This is about you, Emily… worry about me after I make you cum.” The words are gravely as they leave your throat, arousal evident in the raspiness.

She quirks a challenging brow, spreading her legs wide and settling further into the couch.

You sink to your knees before her, her scent already clouding the air. Your hands come to rest atop her knees, squeezing lightly as you press them apart.

Your eyes rake over her body, the soft curves, the old and new scars that blemish her flawless skin.

“You..” your lips press to the center of her heaving chest, “are sooo…” your tongue drags between her breasts, “fucking…” down her stomach and nipping at the soft pudge below her navel, “gorgeous.”

With the final words your lips find her pussy, warm and wet, awaiting. Emily’s hips buck against your face as you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to her sex, desperate for the release she’s been craving.

“Fuck.” The silver-haired woman sighs, her stomach twitching at the contact. Her eyes are locked on your face as you bury yourself in her, devouring.

Pressing her legs up again, you settle them over your shoulders, arms wrapping around her upper thighs and pulling her impossibly closer.

Your tongue draws a flat stripe over her folds, dipping between them before flicking at the underside of her clit. Emily jolts, her fingers threading into your hair and holding you exactly where she wants you.

“Yes…” You almost chant. “Fuck my face.”

Emily moans at your lewd words, and your mouth opens—tongue unfurling and resting atop your bottom lip. 

Above, Emily grins through a silent cry—her hands gripping at your scalp and maneuvering your head in an up and down motion, sliding your tongue over her pussy whilst her hips roll in circular motions.

You groan at the feeling, your nose pressing into her pubic hair, the way she’s taken control is absolutely intoxicating.

“Hm—you feel so good.” Emily pants, and your eyes flick up to her face, watching hungrily as her muscles clench and pulse, arms flexing as she guides you.

You can’t help but flash your teeth in a wolfish grin at her affected state, hands reaching up to squeeze her breasts.

Her skin is nearly feverish as your thumbs brush over peaked nipples, circling lightly with the pads before pinching them between your knuckles. The tweaking urges a whimper from Emily’s throat, squeaking out just as her head falls back again—her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“You look so pretty like this…” You mumble in between laps, swallowing down the excess saliva and arousal that’s gathered in the back of your throat.

Emily chuckles wryly, her gaze falling back on your face. “You look even better.” 

You hold back a groan as your mouth closes around her clit, suckling softly whilst your tongue flicks over it.

Emily chokes on a moan at the sudden shift in pressure, her hands and thighs squeezing so tightly around your head that it feels as if it might pop.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so good with that mouth.” She pants between words, muscles trembling.

You hum at the praise, jaw opening wider so your tongue can slip down to her entrance, just barely pressing inside before swiping back up and repeating the motion.

“Oh—” she gasps above you, rutting her hips against your tongue. “Keep doing that…” 

You follow her orders silently, lapping at her pussy graciously while she moves against you. A wet stain—without a doubt, forming on the lush fabric of the cushions below her.

Her face scrunches up in pleasure, and you can’t help but watch as she uses your face however she pleases. 

“Oh god… fuck, you’re so good… oh, fuck.” Emily cries, her head tilted back in pure, unbridled desire.

“You gonna cum for me, beautiful? You like the way my tongue feels?” You murmur against her pussy, quickly re-attaching your mouth to her clit as she fucks herself on your face wildly, unabashedly.

“Yes, so good—fuck, Y/n, FUCK!” Emily gasps, her hands clutching harshly at your scalp, her body seizing up, and her hips twitching ever so slightly as the orgasm she's been praying for finally washes over her.

A moan slips from your throat at the feeling of her pussy pulsing beneath your tongue, the way her hips roll—riding out the remainder of her pleasure.

Emily lets out a dramatic groan, those perfect, pearl-like teeth on full display as she falls limp against the couch, easing down from her high.

“Oh my god…” she sighs, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes as you place a final kiss to her clit.

“How was that? I do alright for you?” You question, raising your brows teasingly as you kiss up her sweaty torso.

“You made me cum, Y/n.” She laughs, you can’t help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks. “I haven’t even been able to make myself finish in months, so whatever the hell you just did…” her eyes go wide, flashing the white of her sclera before her hands cup your cheeks—pulling your mouth to meet hers in a soft kiss before leaning back just enough to look you in the eye. “I might have to keep you on speed-dial…” 

You surge forward this time, a greedy sense of pride swelling in your chest. The kiss is needy and open-mouthed, Emily’s tongue effortlessly slipping past your lips to taste herself. She groans into it, her arms wrapping around your neck and pulling you tight to her body.

You can feel her pubic hair brushing against your belly from this angle, and you swear you’ve begun dripping onto the floor even with your underwear still on.

“Can I worry about you now?” Emily murmurs teasingly, nipping at your bottom lip. 

You chuckle heartily at her eagerness, giving her one last wet kiss before sitting back and climbing to your feet with a groan. Kneeling on hard floors never has been kind to your knees.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You stand in front of her, reaching out to smooth your hand over her tousled silver locks. “I’m sure the bed is much comfier.”

“Oh, definitely.” She nods, her dark eyes sparkling as she rocks forward onto her feet. She wobbles for a moment, her hands shooting out to steady herself on your shoulder.

You wrap an arm around her back, the skin sticky with perspiration. “Alright?”

“Yeah… just forgot about those post-orgasm wobbles, y’know?” She grins, tilting her chin up and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You laugh softly, squeezing her hip and pulling her flush to your body. You tilt your head, inviting her in—she meets you with an open mouth, tongue invading your senses as she starts walking you backward towards her bedroom.

Her hands slip into the back of your underwear, palming your ass beneath the fabric. A muffled squeak slips into her mouth from the roughness of it, a seemingly more dominant persona taking over with the reversal of roles.

You manage to make it to the bedroom with minimal stumbling, given the fact that your eyes are closed and your body—occupied.

Upon entering the room, you’re hit with a fresh wave of Emily’s scent. You suck in a deep breath against her lips, breaking the kiss to glance around the room.

“Let me take these off…” Emily murmurs against your jaw, her hands sliding up the muscle of your back and under the hem of your sports bra. 

You lift your arms for her, letting the fabric slip over your head—the rush of cool air stiffening your nipples almost sorely. Her hands cover the exposed skin instantly, svelte fingers kneading at the flesh.

“So beautiful…” Emily mumbles, her gaze slipping to your chest. Her kisses trail over your jaw, then your neck, and she’s walking you backwards again. 

When your knees hit the edge of the mattress, you ease yourself onto it, and Emily kisses further down your torso as you go.

Her lips wrap around a pert nipple, and a whine slips from your throat, your hands clutching at the sheets.

“Your mouth feels so good, so warm.” The words sound more like a moan as they leave you.

Emily’s hums around the hardened bud, sending a sharp twinge of arousal straight between your legs. You let go of the sheets and clutch at the back of her head desperately, holding her as close as possible.

Emily climbs onto the bed next, your thighs spreading to accommodate her between them.

The feeling of her bare body flush to yours is absolutely overwhelming. Her hips press into your pelvis as she kisses back up your chest and takes your mouth once again—the patch of hair between her legs tickles the sensitive skin as she carefully rocks into you.

You let out a groan, your own hips moving against her motion to gain any sort of friction.

The kisses are sloppy and wet, but neither of you could care less, your body is surrounded entirely by the older woman, every nerve set ablaze as her touches wander.

Her hands rake down your flanks and over your outer thighs, squeezing the flesh before pressing them open wider.

“I think it’s my turn now…” Emily mumbles between kisses, her nails scratching over your skin in a way that makes your body tense and your insides churn.

“Please…” you plead, voice hardly a whisper as you clutch at her shoulders.

Emily grins, her eyes trailing over your flushed face.

“I'd like to taste you…” She bows down, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Would you like me to do that, sweetheart?” 

“God, yes…” your body arches into her, bare chest squishing against hers.

Emily chuckles, low and teasing, as she kisses her way down your body again. Her tongue drags across your collarbones, then down the valley of your breasts.

She sucks harshly at one's underside and it pulls a yelp from your throat. You look down at her shyly, climbing up onto your elbows.

She meets your gaze as she lifts and slides lower on the bed, her mouth never leaving your body. Her tongue laves at the edge of your rib cage, wet and searing before it drags lower, circling your navel. 

Your breathing is ragged as she nips at the flesh of your lower belly, then your hip bones.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours before she drags her nose up your inner thigh, her lips pressing teasing kisses as she moves. She does the same to the other thigh, biting at the tender skin at the apex this time.

Emily licks her lips as she gazes at the soaked spot on the gusset of your underwear. Those dangerously dark eyes meet yours one last time, a silent confirmation.

“Need you...” You sigh, breathless, hips rocking towards her impatiently.

Her nose presses into you first, dragging slowly along the length of your covered slit. Her hands clutch at the backs of your thighs, pressing them apart.

���Mm, you smell good.” She groans, and you can feel the vibrations through the thin fabric.

“Take them off…” Emily follows orders, curling her fingers into the waistband and tugging eagerly. You lift your hips to assist, kicking them the rest of the way off.

When you settle back down on the mattress, Emily’s gaze locks on your needy sex, her eyelids heavy with lust as she takes it in.

She brushes her fingers teasingly around your puffy folds, keeping you on edge. You know you’re already a mess from the way her breath fans your skin, sending a chill across the wetness.

“Touch me, Emily…” you murmur, watching her eagerly as she licks her lips—the sheen of her saliva glistening in the low light.

“You’re so pretty… so wet.” Emily rasps, she looks almost distraught as she rests her palm atop your mound, her thumb swiping over your soaked folds.

You can hear the squelch of your wetness as she toys with you, pulling a tiny whimper from your throat.

She rests her head against your inner thigh, watching closely as she brushes the underside of your clit. Your hips twitch as the sudden touch, pussy clenching around nothing as she keeps a featherlight pressure in the sensitive bud.

“Sensitive?” She mumbles, raising a brow.

“Mhmm…” you hum in response, grinding into her.

She swipes over your clit one last time before dragging it down to your slit, thoroughly coating it in your arousal before pressing it inside.

It’s hardly enough to satisfy, but it feels heavenly regardless.

She cranes forward next, her lips brushing over your mound. She presses a wet kiss to the center of your pelvis, then another just above your clit, and finally the sensitive bulb peeking out from beneath its hood.

Her tongue flicks out next, dragging flat and slow over your folds before drawing to a point and circling over your swollen clit.

Your head tilts back with a sigh as she finally gives you the pressure you’ve been craving, tongue dipping in alongside her thumb before dragging your arousal up, spreading it.

Emily’s thumb slips out, hands wrapping around your thighs and pulling your pussy flush to her face.

You moan quietly as her mouth covers your sex, her tongue dragging languidly over its entirety before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. 

She moans into you, practically burying her face between your legs.

Your muscles tremble as she works you, a shiver making its way through your body from how impossibly turned on you are.

Your fingers card through the silver locks at her crown, brushing them to one side so you can really admire her.

Emily laps eagerly, mouthing at your pussy as if it were her the last thing she’d do.

You can feel the tension building, that deep ache burning brightly in your womb as she urges on. Her tongue feels like everything, so perfectly overwhelming but delicate at the same time, like she knows exactly how to break you apart from the inside out.

“Shit—Emily… keep going baby.” You pant, hips rocking against her mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” She groans, quickly reattaching her mouth. Her hands leave their spot on your thighs and reach up, scratching over your abdomen before palming at your breasts.

Her knuckles pinch at your nipples, pulling a shrill moan from you. 

Her tongue works in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, applying the perfect amount of pressure, all while keeping still enough for you to control where it goes.

You’re already so close, it definitely won’t take much longer for you to be hurdling over the edge.

Her right hand leaves your breast and trails up, her fingertips dancing over your pulse point before brushing over your already parted lips.

You let her fingers slip inside, tongue immediately swirling around the long digits. Emily groans at the sight, her eyes fluttering closed as her efforts double down—sucking harder at your clit.

“Fuck!” You yelp, your body twitching at the sudden change in stimulation.

Her hand shifts beneath her body, the now well-soaked fingers teasing at your entrance before her middle slips inside.

“Yes—more.” Your hand clutches at her scalp as you pant, holding her right where you need her.

Her index joins in at your request, curling deliciously into your sweet spot with each slow, deep thrust.

“So good…” You sigh, your body curling into itself to heighten the sensations. 

You can feel the tension growing with each pass, the thickness of her fingers filling you perfectly. Emily’s face glows pink as she breathes heavily against you, her eyes flicking up at your face before falling shut again.

Suddenly, Emily’s tongue shifts, swiping against a particularly sensitive spot, and your body begins rapidly approaching orgasm. The taught string of heat in your belly cracks, your thighs tremble, and you try your hardest to keep them from crushing Emily’s head between them.

“Fuck, Emily! Right there—oh my god…” You groan through clenched teeth, your face screwing up with the intensity of your pleasure.

Emily doesn’t change a single thing about what she’s doing, keeping the perfect consistency. With one last swirl of her tongue and press of her fingers, your body crashes into an orgasm, trembling wildly as she slows down just enough not to overstimulate you.

Your body arches off the mattress, and your elbows collapse, neck craning backwards into the pillows.

Emily’s fingers slip from inside you, her hands splaying wide over your abdomen as she eases you down.

You laugh out a moan as the waves begin to settle finally, leaving faint twitches in their wake. 

“Mm, fuck… you’re so good at that.” You sigh, your fingers raking through her hair, practically petting her. “People really don’t know what they're missing.”

Emily lets out a hearty chuckle, pressing gentle kisses to your sensitive folds and along your inner thighs.

She works her way up your body slowly, kissing, licking, and biting at your flushed skin. She hums as she reaches your upper torso, kissing over the darkening hickeys she left on your breasts.

“You’re welcome.” Emily rasps, her nose nudging at the underside of your chin as she slots herself into your side, her thigh resting between your legs.

“Mm, thank you.” You smile at her dazedly, your eyes half-closed as you lean in to kiss her. She meets you eagerly, her tongue flicking out for you to taste yourself.

You moan into the kiss, sucking on the muscle gently before letting it go. Your arms wrap loosely around her shoulders, holding her body close. Her blunt fingernails rake along your side, tickling.

Soon enough, your body is already keening for more. You grind down against her thigh subtly, your slick spreading onto her skin. 

Emily smiles into the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. She grips at the meat of your waist, pulling your pussy against hardened muscle.

You gasp, your arms wrapping around her tightly.

“You like that? Wanna ride my leg?” She mumbles into your mouth, her fingers kneading into the flesh of your ass as she guides your movement along her thigh.

“Yes.” You whisper sharply, rutting harder against her.

Emily groans, rolling onto her back and pulling you on top of her. Her foot presses into the mattress, raising herself up to press into you.

“Shit...oh—” you tremble, forearms framing her head.

Emily grins smugly below you, groaning as her tongue flicks out at the underside of your jaw before biting at it. Your spine curves to give her more room, the sharpness of her teeth on your skin sending a prickly chill over your body. 

The sound of your slick dragging along her toned thigh is just about all you can hear, aside from your own panting breaths and whimpers.

Your abdominal muscles burn as your hips roll eagerly, hands grasping at the pillows behind Emily’s head.

“God, you look so good like this.” Emily groans, her eyes dancing wildly over your body. 

A choked moan cracks from your throat as she squeezes you particularly rough, forcing your sex down hard against her thigh.

“Hm—fuck, Emily, hold on…” You gasp, pressing your hands to her sweat-slickened chest and lifting your torso.

“What’s wrong? What do you need?” She murmurs, her palms sliding up from their place on your hips and cupping the underside of your breasts.

“Let me just..” you shift quickly, rotating your hips and grabbing one of her thighs, raising it just enough for you to settle your pelvis against hers—sliding your pussy's together.

“Oh, I haven’t done this in ages…” Emily chuckles, curling up to better position herself for you. 

Emily watches with a bewildered expression as you find your rhythm, your hips dragging in a somewhat circular motion.

“Feel good for you?” You ask her breathily, holding her thigh to your stomach with one hand while your other hand palms her breasts.

“I’m not sure it’ll be enough to get me off, but I wanna watch you.” She rasps, her bottom lip shining from the pooling saliva in her mouth. “You look so pretty, rubbing yourself on me like that, fuck.”

“You feel so good.” You whine out the praise as you grind fervently, chasing the perfect amount of friction. Your clit, still hypersensitive from the last orgasm.

The lewd sounds of your soaked pussy grinding against her flesh fill the surrounding air, and the bed creaks. Emily looks so incredibly disheveled below you, completely absorbed in your presence. Her dark eyes, wide and focused, her hips and hands working your body tirelessly.

Your nails dig into the muscle of her thigh as you feel the telltale signs of an orgasm start bubbling within you. Your head lolls back, pleasure overtaking your movements.

One of Emily’s hands strays, bony knuckles pinching roughly at your nipples. The sharp sting shoots straight down to your sex, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your bodies.

“Fuck—Emily.” You cry and your head tilts forward again, lips pressing against her kneecap. “So good… so close.” 

Your teeth graze her skin as you pant and rut against her, a film of sweat sheening over your skin.

You shift your hips again, and Emily squeaks—her mouth falling open as the new movement hits a particularly sensitive spot on her clit.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” She breathes, her eyes fluttering closed. “Hngh—that feels good.” 

“Yeah? Think you can cum?” You keep the position steady as you crane your neck to face her.  

Her brows crease together as she focuses on the feeling, her chest spattered in a deep red flush. 

“Yeah—fuck, I think so.” Her voice is practically a whisper as she relaxes her body, flowing with the consistency of your movements.

“What do you need? I wanna make it happen.” You set your own needs aside for the moment, letting your hand wander up her chest again.

You rake your nails down the center of her chest, and her body arches into the touch. You can see the faint muscles of her abdomen clenching with each roll of her hips.

“Just keep touching me, multiple points of stimulation help.” She whimpers through gritted teeth.

You nod silently, keeping your attention on her.

Your fingers draw teasing circles around her nipple, pinching, rolling the bud between the pads of your fingers before tugging gently. She twitches at the pleasurable pain, a whimperish moan slipping from her lips. 

You let your fingers trail upward, dancing along her collarbone before pressing into her already open mouth.

Her eyes shoot open at the unexpected intrusion, but she’s quick to accept it—sucking them in halfway before swirling her tongue between them.

Her face flushes harder at the sight of your face, the reaction your body seems to have. Your lips parting a silent moan, the motion of your hips faltering momentarily before picking up again.

You pull your fingers from her mouth and attach them to her neglected nipple, repeating the same motions.

“I want you to cum with me…” Emily pipes up, her half-lidded eyes locking on yours.

“You’re close?” You pant, picking up the pace.

“Yeah…” Emily’s brow glistens, the white hair at her temples clinging to the skin.

With a hand trailing down her belly and combing through the hair atop her mound, you can’t help but smile excitedly. The hair is completely drenched in a mixture of your arousal, slightly matted. You tangle your fingers in it, pulling it back and exposing more of her clit.

“Shit—” Emily sucks in a sharp breath, the now heightened sensitivity building her up rapidly.

“Come on, baby.” You whine, your head dropping to rest against her knee. “Fuck, you feel so good, Emily.”

“I’m almost there, ugh—almost there…" she trails off, her face contorting as the pang of her orgasm hits.

You double down on your efforts, muscles clenching as you work yourself over the edge with her.

“Fuck, fuck—Emily.” Your body tenses, orgasm rippling through your body. Your hips stutter as you ride it out, thighs trembling, and your upper half almost doubling over with the intensity of the aftershocks.

Emily’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to her chest. You paw at the older woman’s biceps, clinging to her. 

Both of your bodies are slick with perspiration; if you had any sense of function left in your brain, you’d probably try to peel yourself away—but you don’t.

Emily sighs loudly against your hair, her breath tickling your scalp.

“God, that wore me out.” You smile, your cheek squished against the protrusion of her shoulder.

“Tell me about it…” she chuckles, combing her fingers through the ends of your hair.

The pair of you lay in a panting heap for a long moment, settling into each other's overheated presences. 

You press gentle kisses along her collarbone before tilting to press your nose against her neck, breathing in her scent—a mix of sweat and lotion, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath the skin.

“God, don’t sniff me, you weirdo.” Emily swats at your arm playfully. “I probably reek.”

“No.” You mumble against the base of her ear, breathing her in again. “You smell good. You always smell good.”

“If you say so, sweetheart.” She sighs, the same hand that hit you, now stroking languidly along the muscle of your flank.

“Have you got a bathtub?” You ask, raising your head just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Yes… Why?” She gives you a curious look.

“Let me run you a bath… take care of you.” You lean down to press tentative kisses along her cheekbone, then down to her lips.

Emily hums into the kiss, contemplating.

“I suppose that would be nice…” The low purr of her voice rumbles against your chest, “As long as you join me?” A lazy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“Of course, ready to get up?” Your hand smooths over the soft curve of her belly, comfortably,

“Yeahhh…” she grumbles, and you sit up beside her. “Why don’t you go start it, and I’ll meet you in there.” 

“Sure.” She smiles at you as you lean in to kiss her again, it's chaste and gentle. She exhales into it.

With a squeeze of her thigh, you wobble your way toward her en-suite, which earns an amused laugh from the unit chief.

The en-suite is quite large, but comfortably so. Natural colored tiled floors and a matching shower, the walls are white, but the warm shade of the overhead light keeps it cozy. 

Stepping over to the tub, you turn it on, finding the perfect temperature before plugging the drain and letting it fill. 

You’re rifling through the toilette cabinet when a set of warm hands rest upon your shoulders.

“If you wanted to snoop, you could’ve just asked…” Emily squeezes your tight, mildly sore muscles. You laugh softly before standing and turning to face her.

“I was looking to see if you had some Epsom salts or bubble bath or something.” Your hands wrap loosely around her hips, pulling her body flush against you.

“I don’t, but shower gel might work?” Her brow quirks, and she slips from your grasp.

She grabs a bottle from the shower floor and pours a healthy amount into the tub. Soon enough, the bubbles start to form, and she looks over at you with an excited smile.

“You… are so cute, Emily Prentiss.” You chuckle, admiring her mused but adorable appearance.

“I am not cute.” She huffs, grabbing two towels from the cabinet and setting them on the countertop.

“You just keep believing that.” 

…

Once the tub is full, Emily slips in first, moaning at the perfect temperature.

You slip in behind her, your thighs bracketing her hips. She leans back against your chest, her head falling back into your shoulder.

“This is nice, such a smart idea.” Emily hums, pressing her cheek against your own.

“I am technically a genius, y’know.” You quip, earning yourself a pinch to the inner thigh.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You mumble, wrapping your arms around her waist, palms flat over the curve of her lower belly.

“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about…” She lands a soft kiss on your cheek, smiling as she basks in the warmth surrounding her.

“Mhmm.” Your thumbs rub soothing patterns over her soft skin.

Tilting your chin down, you press a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, the sweet scent of the bubbles lingering in the air. 

Emily sighs as you kiss up the side of her neck, your nose brushing the back of her ear before your tongue darts out, teasing along the shell of it.

Her breath hitches, and the dissipating flush on her skin comes back in full swing.

“Y/n…” Her nails dig into the sides of your knees on both sides of her hips.

“Emily…” Your teeth graze her earlobe, and your fingers start to dance lower again. “Think you have one more for me?” You mumble, voice low against the side of her head.

“Yes.” Emily breathes out, her thighs spreading as your hands drag down her inner thighs. “God, you’re too good at this.”

You can’t help but chuckle at how wrecked you’ve gotten her, completely willing and desperate beneath the unwielding force of your hands.

Using your hips, you raise her bottom from the base of the tub and shift her so that she rests atop your left thigh, giving yourself more room to work, all while holding her close.

“Spread your legs.” You murmur, and she instantly obliges, her right leg settling between yours and the wall of porcelain.

The bubbles on the water's surface block the view of your ministrations from above, heightening the sensations’ intensity.

Your nails rake teasingly up Emily’s inner thighs, holding them open. When you reach the apex, her hips roll into the touch, urging you on. The fingertips of your right hand dance along the crease of her sex, teasing her folds while your left slides up to cup her breasts, your thumb brushing over her nipples.

Emily whines against the curve of your jaw, her right arm coming up to wrap around your neck.

“Please…” she pants, her teeth grazing your skin. You hum in response, tilting your head to take her lips in yours.

Just as her tongue flicks out at your bottom lip, your middle finger swipes over her swollen clit. Emily whimpers, and you catch it with your lips, swallowing it down.

Dipping into her slit, you feel the traces of her arousal. The fact that you’re the one at fault for it stirs a childlike sense of pride within you, as if you just won a prize at the fair.

You draw light circles over her clit, before teasing the sensitive underside of it for a moment and circling again.

“That feels good…” she whispers, breaking the kiss for a moment. “I wanna feel you inside me.”

The confession makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?”

“Yes… Just go slow, one finger.” She kisses you again, slow and deep.

You groan into the kiss, the finger on her clit sliding between her folds once again. The tip of your middle finger teases her entrance for a moment, and her hips jump to meet it. 

Emily hisses as the first inch slips inside. She’s so warm, sensitive to the touch. 

“More, it’s okay.” She mumbles, her hand covering yours and pressing you deeper.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as you bottom out, a quiet whine crackling from her throat as your palm makes contact with her clit.

“Guide me.”

She looks you in the eyes as her hand starts moving yours, angling your wrist so that your length tilts up, aiming for her spot.

Her hips cant forward as she settles into a slow rhythm, brows furrowing. 

“You feel so good.” Your nose brushes against her own, and she smiles faintly, her glassy eyes hooded. 

She pulls you into another passionate kiss, rising into it slightly, and the tops of her breasts break the surface of the bubbles.

You pinch at her nipple and you can feel her pussy clench around you. Emily moans softly, her hand in your hair, tugging at the nape of your neck.

“Play with my clit.” She whines, dropping your hand that’s inside her and dragging the one on her breast down. “Please.”

You smirk against her, nipping at her bottom lip as you scissor at her clit with your middle and fore fingers. 

Emily’s head falls back limply, and you take that as a chance to give her neck some attention. You kiss and lick along the exposed tendons, leaving faint marks that’ll fade in the next few minutes.

Her hips rut against your hands, rippling the water. 

“Mm, fuck you’re so hot.” You groan against her neck, biting at the muscle of her shoulder. Emily squeaks at the sudden aggressive gesture, her abdomen twitching.

“Oh—hm, gonna cum, baby…” she cries, lifting her head back up to face you again.

“Yeah? I’m making you feel good? You like the way I touch you?” You purr against her parted lips, her panting breaths fanning over your chin.

“God, yes… I love it, taking such good care of me.” Her eyes flutter closed, her words breathy and full of need.

The synced movement of your fingers is unwavering, working steadily until her muscles are trembling above you.

“Y/n—” she moans, her spine arching as her thighs quiver, tightening around your hands between them.

“That’s it… I’ve got you.” You finger stills inside her, keeping a constant pressure against her spot whilst your fingers on her clit circle slowly—drawing out the last bits of her orgasm.

Emily exhales shakily as her nails claw at your forearm, steadying your movements. 

“Easy, easy… fuck.” She groans, smiling brightly.

Her eyes open, gazing at you heavily. The apples of her cheeks glow pink, shining from the steam. She leans in to kiss you again, slow and chaste—but no less meaningful.

“I am definitely going to keep you around if it’s like this every time…” she chuckles, her hand loosening in your hair and cupping your cheek.

“Oh, yes. And… whenever you need it.” 

“I like the sound of that…” 

…

a/n: i hope that did not disappoint after all the waiting... anyways, happy humping!!!

taglist: @luvgreyponytail @piiinco @xoxo-maryssa @prentissmultiverse @blackcatlesbo @teeshatequila @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @classic-fangirl-emily-prentiss @wittygutsy @jareauiisms @keepinggcomposure @bernieswolfe @prentitty @garcialuvr @chiefemilyprentiss @yourneighborhoodwlw @g59mads @r0manxff @confidant-thoughts @joanofvarc @lez-talk1 @wlwoceaneyes @wandasdollie @maximoffcarter @chestnutninny @realmisssnowflakes

[kulai]

DAY 1: First Kiss for Wenclairtober :3

check this out on twt ! this is based on ch12 (i think?) of "The Dead and the Dancing" on ao3. A HEAVY recommended for sure

[drabsyo]

me? shipping another rare pair wlw in a fandom i'm 16 yrs late to? just another tuesday

[destinationtoast]

Toastystats: F/F stats (Feb 2025)

Happy Femslash February! <3 I have new stats about big F/F ships and F/F-heavy fandoms on AO3. For explanations, clarifications, and corrections, please click through to AO3.

Edit: note that "foreground" as used here means "works that are nearly guaranteed to be mostly about F/F, because the other largest shipping categories (F/M and M/M) are filtered out." That definition reasonably demotes some F/F ships that are mostly background ships, but it also overly demotes some ships like Catradora that have common F/M or M/M background ships. I've edited the post to add graphs of the fandoms and ships with the most F/F works overall, in addition to the those with the most foreground F/F. Click through to AO3 for longer versions of all these lists, as well as for more explanations.

[ziggyzolch]

i love looking through the users who kudos my fics like im so happy you liked my story sevikas8inchpussydestroyer

[antotalfailure]

Stay Winning Ladies.

[drea-drawn]

Can't believe I forgot to post the Lawlight Yuri art that started it all. HERE IT IS! Ughhhh their designs change every time but I kinda love the dark lipgloss on L...

[curiositysavesthecat]

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[kngrose]

pitfighter vi who promises reader just the tip and then gives her the whole strap🫶🫶🫶

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐏

vi making you take the whole strap

WARNINGS: NONCON! Dead Dove Do Not Eat, virginity loss, coercion, dacryphilia, spit play, implied corruption kink, bulging, be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i am so in love with this idea omg omg omg— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i got carried away, so the ending is abrupt. ^^

Vi would just be going against her better judgment here, like she usually does about… everything.

"...Are you sure this is what you want, baby?"

She’d asked gently as she leaned down and whispered into your ear, her breath warm as it hit your skin. Vi's hands moved up and down your sides slowly, her body pressed against yours. She let out a something like a huff of a laugh through her nose at your whispered, ‘Yes… But— you remember our promise, right?’ It was something about that, that made you think, maybe you should’ve known better.

She promised a few nights ago that she would indulge your request of losing your virginity. She was close, trusted— you’d had no problem confessing it to her and she’d made you feel comfortable and safe in her presence. You didn’t want to lose it to just anybody, but you wanted to have the experience. “Just the tip.” She’d initially meant it as a joke. Just a lighthearted statement to loosen you up a bit, but she was taken aback when you’d eagarly nodded in agreement, holding her to that statement.

Vi chuckled lowly at you, your nervousness and anticipation was so cute and endearing. She leaned down, her body hovering over yours, her mass pressing you to the matress. She could feel your heart beating fast, it was exciting. She took a moment to relish in this moment, her lips moving down to your neck, kissing and biting at it softly. "You're so cute, you know that?" She whispered against your skin between kisses, gently biting and suckling the sensitive flesh on your neck. You could make out every strand of inky black hair on her head.

“Vi—”

“You’re nervous, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to push down the nerves that were making it hard to breathe. “Yes.”

"Try to relax, it'll feel better." She murmured, finally sitting up straight, gripping the thick— almost daunting strap in her fist. She’d told you she had nothing smaller, that this was all she could offer you. She placed a large palm right above your pussy, pressing firmly to keep your hips still. “Ready for it?” she locked eyes with you, nudging the tip against your clit, slapping it there a few times. You nodded shakily, holding her gaze with anticipation.

“Words.”

“Yes I’m ready…” It came out shaky, like you were riding a bike on a rocky path. She nods curtly, her gaze falling to your pussy, all spread nicely for her. She taps the tip against your clit a few more times, enjoying the way you gasp softly before slowly tilting the tip downwards to your hole.

It started out subtle, a stinging sensation that slowly built up— but it spread quickly as she pushed further, your hole struggling to accommodate to her size. It felt like being ripped open, the girth of it pushing upwards of your blatter. Your back lifted off the bed. “O-ouch!—” You let out a soft yelp, grasping her hip tightly as to keep her grounded there.

"Shhh.. just keep breathing" She replied immediately, feeling you tense and her free hand coming up to push you back down onto the bed. "Just breathe, relax." She whispered, gently kissing along the leg she held up. You tried to do as she instructed, taking deep, shaky breaths, closing your eyes tightly. It was starting to work.

But your relief was short lived, snatched from you as you felt the searing pain of her sliding deeper. “W-wait vi— what are you doing?!” You took the hand you had placed firmly on her hip and pushed, trying your hardest to still her movement. But it was impossible— she was so strong, much moreso than you, your efforts were fruitless. "Shh... calm down, baby.." She whispered softly, trying to sooth you as she held her position for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling. Her free hand moved up to brush against your cheek and gently caress your chest, trying to get you to relax. Her voice was soft and calming, trying her best to comfort you as she felt you getting tense. "Relax. Everything is gonna be alright. I got you. I promise I'll go slow but..I need you to relax, okay? Just breathe…"

“N-no! Vi— you said just the tip!”

"I know, I know... baby, I'm sorry.." She said, her body moving still to hold herself up, one arm propped on the bed beside your head. She looked down at you with an understanding, but also determined look, trying to reassure you. "But you're doing so well for me. You're such a good girl..." She pushed her hips further, firmly this time, watching your expression closely. “Move your hand.” she commanded gently, and when you refused she grabbed it and pinned it your your side. She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, claiming your lips in a deep and passionate kiss.

She frowned as you turned your head, a childish attempt at avoiding her affection. "Baby, please.." She begged softly, her hand reaching up and gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head back towards her so she would see your face. "Don't do that, look at me, baby. C'mon." Her voice was desperate. Her lips were so close to yours, her body leaning over you, her free hand still caressing your skin. She was aching for your taste again.

When you turned your face away from her a second time, low growl escaped her lips, her grip on your chin tightening. "No. Eyes on me, baby. I said look at me. I want you to look at me, I want to see your pretty face when I'm taking you." She commands, her voice firm yet gentle.

You felt her bottom out, your pelvis throbbing at the feeling. You felt to full, so uncomfortable. It hurt just to slightly move your hips. Tears blur your vision, a mixture of frustration and and betrayal overwhelming you. It felt like she was pressing down on you at all sides— her presence giving you a sick feeling in your tummy.

She started at a slow and steady pace, her hips meeting yours deliberately, one of her hands gently caressing the side of your face to try and sooth you. Her lips began to suck at your neck again, leaving soft, small love bites and hickeys along your skin, marking you as hers. "That's it... you're such a good girl for me, baby.... So so good... and you look so pretty like this. Taking me in... so good for me.." You didn’t bother to try wiping your tears, they would keep flowing anyways.

She took a hand and rubbed your clit meticulously, applying soft pressure. “F-fuck—!” You cursed, hands gripping the sheets tightly. Vi smirked at your reaction, rubbing just a bit faster, “Gotta loosen you up baby, you’re so tight.” She spit onto your pussy. “Relax, princess.”

“I can’t!”

“You can.” You try to bite back the yelps of pain, not wanting to edge her on any further than you already unkowingly have, tucking your lip between your teeth. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, your body rocking with every slam of her hips. "No, sweetness,” She takes her thumb and pulls your lip free. “You’re so pretty when you make little noises for me. Let me hear them, I wanna hear your pretty voice." Her eye contact was daunting and unwavering, it made you nauseous.

Her pace began to pick up a bit more, her hips moving more urgently against you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with her soft, ragged breaths and your yelps. Her free hand squeezed your hip, her slender fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth came down and began to gently nuzzle your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she pressed messy little kisses along the sensitive flesh there.

“How is it, hm?” She said between kisses, but you chose not to respond. You were focused on the way you could feel you pussy starting to leak, your hole embracing her now. Your body was betraying your mind. “S-shit!” You whimper quietly against your best efforts, but you know she caught it.

She sits back up and you could see the thought cross her mind before she acted on it, her hand reaching down to shove two fingers into your mouth, caressing your tongue with a perverted smirk. "Good girl.... keep those pretty lips open for me, baby..” You could feel the spit sliding down your chin. You felt your pussy throb at her praise, moaning abrubtly at her words. Her thrusts had really been working into you now, nudging your walls with a purpose. It felt good.

That one moan went straight to Vi's core, hearing you sent a shiver down her spine, her pace quickening slightly. She pulled your hips up, into you at new angle, watching in awe as you fell apart. “Hah—hah—” You didn’t even try to stay quiet anymore, her dick hitting your g-spot deliciously. "Yeah.... just like that, baby. Let it out for me.” She stuck two fingers back into your mouth, “Get ‘em nice and wet, babydoll,” Vi groaned lowly as she watched you flick your tongue over her fingers, moving them down to your clit again to rub you. “Feels s’good right, baby? My baby just needed someone to push her past her limits, huh?”

You replied with a string of moans, your feet flailing aimlessly at her thrusts. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” She notices it before you do; the bulge sticking out of your pelvis everytime she bottoms out. “Ohhhhh, fuck me. Look at that, baby.” Her voice pulls you out of your trance, lulling your head up to look at what she was referring to. “Oh my God—” You choke up as she lifts a hand to press on it, “Bet that feels fuckin’ amazing, huh? Getting your guts dug in?”

You can hardly form a sentence, arching your back into the matress; she’s fucking you so good. “Yesss— fuck! S’good!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She fucks you at a vigorous speed, beating into your g-spot with every thrust. “Cmon, sweetness. I wanna see your cum face.” She spits on your pussy again, taking her fingers and rubbing your clit, fast. “Cmon baby, let go f’me.”

taglist: @opropheticsoul @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu @elwerostinky-13 @maiiluvs @sevikasfan @hearrrtfillia @facelesshere @vanillasundaeblob @jannesyjane @bamtorriii @simp-of-the-day @hellokittyfeenie @livingdeddghirl @trizxyp @finefocks @pleasantlyhotgarbage @halle5s @lominaria @xxblairslairxx @croissantime @saturnknows @bloodyskns @theogkqthxrjne @malacrnaruza @softsy @randomperson291 @arevik2345

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[strawberri-draws]

astralyn wip (my iPad died I can avoid hw no longer...)

[dykeforhire]

The Glass Stay On | e.p.

pairing: emily prentiss x gf!reader

summary: exactly what the title says… or… Emily eats pussy with her glasses ON.

tags: (18+) smut (oral!sex, vaginal!fingering), a bit of dirty!talk.

word count: 2.7k

read on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: emily prentiss wearing glasses does unspeakable things to me, so here’s something short and filthy to chew on… what happens in this fic.. i drew beforehand…

…

After finishing your evening shower and getting ready for bed, you step out of the bathroom and into the cool air of the bedroom.

You’ve constructed the perfect everyday routine: come home, relax until Emily inevitably returns from the office, scrounge up something for dinner, more relaxing but with Emily, shower, then ultimately—fall into bed with your lover.

Though that last step of your routine is shifted a bit off kilter as you look up and find your girlfriend missing from her side of the mattress.

Your brows furrow momentarily. Usually, she's long in bed by now, sitting up against the headboard in front of a stack of pillows, with a book in her lap and a steaming cup of tea on the bedside table.

Tossing your soiled clothes into the hamper, you reluctantly climb into bed alone.

You curl up in the center of the bed, running your hand over Emily's indent in the sheets, wrinkles left in the shape of her figure—a pillowcase that smells distinctly like her night cream and dry shampoo.

"Tired?" The familiar rasp of your girlfriend's voice breaks through the quiet room. You twitch in surprise, you hadn't even heard her come in.

"There you are, I was wondering where you went." You beamed at her, taking in her domestic appearance. The dull graphics on the tattered old band t-shirt she's wearing, the faded blue stripes on her sleep shorts, the soft wave of her silver hair as it cascades over her shoulders and down to the tops of her breasts.

She's effortlessly beautiful, especially with her face fully bare.

"Just making my tea, I forgot where I left my new glasses." She smiles, places her mug on the coaster, and slips beneath the comforter.

"New glasses?" You ask, a bit confused about when she even had time to get a new pair, but still curious.

"Yeess…” Emily drawls. “I had them delivered; my other pair had a scratch on the lens." She explains, shifting slightly before reaching into the small pocket of her shorts.

She pulls out a pair of sleek, square black frames, the gloss and rivets glinting in the lamplight.

Before you can say anything, she flicks the temples open and slides them onto her nose before leaning back and opening her book.

Instantly, your body reacts to the sight. A simmering heat pools in your lower belly at the sight of her new frames.

She's always been attractive with glasses, but these? These are particularly sexy.

"Those are..." you pause, trying to find a suitable word to describe them without coming off too desperate.

She looks up at you, her brow arching curiously. Her eyes flick over your face, and a devious smirk curls at the corner of her mouth.

"What? You like them?" Emily purrs, closing her book and setting it back on the nightstand. She turns slightly, her torso angled more towards you.

"I definitely like them..." You chew on your bottom lip as she watches you, and her fingers twitch where they rest atop the blanket. "Very sexy, dear."

"Oh, yeah?" She grins, scooting closer-invading your space.

"Oh, yeah." You grin in return as you meet her halfway in a gentle but firm kiss.

Her cold fingers land on your hip beneath the sheets and you suck in a sharp breath against her upper lip. She deepens the kiss straight away, her mouth opening, tongue sliding along your teeth, teasingly.

You hum into the kiss, returning the passion as you reach out for her, curling your hand around her waist and pulling her closer.

She slinks over you slowly, her mouth never detaching, while she settles herself on top. Emily's body is warm, the soft weight of her abdomen pressing between your spread thighs as she lies between them.

A quiet grumble slips from her throat as she feels you arch into her, your legs locking behind her ass and squeezing her closer.

"You're so..." she interrupts your sentence with a chaste kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. "fuck—sexy."

You whimper into her mouth as she rolls her hips forward into yours, the friction pleasurable, but not enough. But then again, you never can seem to get enough of the beautiful older woman above you.

Her arms bracket the sides of your head, hands smoothing over your hair. Her torso writhes sensually, and you can feel the weight of her breasts, her hardened nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

The kisses grow sloppy, a mess of spit, tongues, and desperate sounds of want.

You slip your hands beneath her shirt, gliding up her sides, then over the muscle of her back, roaming. Her skin is so soft, so warm—it’s addicting.

With a final rough suck on your bottom lip, Emily begins trailing lower. Her teeth graze the curve of your jaw as she moves, pressing wet kisses to your burning skin. Her hands tangle into your hair, tugging gently to urge your chin up, making room for herself in the crevice of your neck.

“Emily—” you pant, nails digging into the flesh of her hips.

The older woman groans against your skin, sucking a harsh mark into your collarbone. She sits up just enough to drag her hands down past your shoulders before landing atop your ribcage. Her fingers press into the sensitive skin, holding your body still and close as she continues her assault on your neck.

One of your hands slips from beneath her shirt and cards through the hair at the back of her head. 

Using her chin, she pulls the collar of your shirt down, peppering wet kisses to your flushed chest.

Your belly swells with an intense flood of arousal, and you try to focus on the feeling of everything she’s doing to you. Her groping hands in your abdomen—covering your breasts over the fabric of your top, the weight of her hips, rolling into your center as if she was teasing you with her cock. 

And God, sometimes you really do wish her strap could be permanently attached.

“Fuck, baby…” You whine as she lands a particularly sharp bite on your shoulder. Emily hums amusedly at your body’s reaction.

She sits up for a moment, her thighs resting against your ass. Her palms glide down your stomach, then beneath the hem of your shirt, smoothing over the soft plains of flesh.

She looks up at you then, a silent confirmation to move forward with what she’s planning. You nod eagerly, your spine curling.

She grins and pushes your shirt up, her nails raking along your skin as she goes. The rush of cool air hardens your nipples to solid peaks, standing proudly under Emily’s lustful gaze.

“So beautiful…” she murmurs, her hands cupping the underside of your breasts and squeezing. You moan at the sensation, the way she pinches your nipples subtly.

Your hands clutch at the sheets beneath you as she continues her exploration, fingertips toying with your most sensitive parts.

The sudden heat of her mouth on your sternum startles you, a gasp ripping from your throat as she laves her tongue over your sweat-dampened skin. She takes a sensitive nipple between her lips, teeth scraping slightly, and immediately, you feel the wetness gushing between your thighs.

You clutch desperately at the back of her head as she mouths at you, tiny whines and moans falling from your lips.

Her tongue swirls around your hardened bud before flicking at it quickly, giving it a final kiss before shifting and doing the same to the other side.

Her hands bury themselves between your back and the mattress, making sure you can’t wiggle too much.

Abandoning your breasts, Emily trails lower, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along your ribs and down the center of your stomach. She nips at your navel, seeking her tongue around the faint red mark before sucking a dark hickey into your hipbone.

Your stomach jolts at the pain, hips canting upward in attempts to find some sort of friction.

“Needy girl…” Emily growls against the skin of your belly. “Look at me.”

The gravel in her voice makes your ear perk up as you crane your neck up to meet her eyes. 

A smirk dances across her lips as she toys with the waistband of your underwear, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

You watch with a slackened jaw as she swipes her thumb over your slit through the soaked fabric of your underwear.

“Please, Em…” you pant, your hands sliding down the sheets to grip at her knees. Emily hums, running a flattened palm over your mound, then up your abdomen.

Her eyelids are heavy and half-lidded as she trails her eyes over your semi-nude form, the darkening love bites speckling your torso, your flushed face, the mess of arousal between your legs.

She moves to take her glasses off, but you stop her before she can toss them aside, gripping her wrist.

“Keep them on…” 

“Yeah?” Emily arches a brow. “You like them that much?” She slips the frames back on, leaning forward over your body.

“Yes… you look so good.” You smile up at her dazedly, your hands reaching up to cup her face.

The older woman beams at the compliment, tilting her head and pressing a wet kiss to your palm.

Emily shifts onto all fours, her shiny silver locks tickling the skin of your stomach as she dips down and kisses your pelvis.

Your hips rock against her touches, desperately seeking her mouth. Her fingers curl into your waistband and tug the thin fabric down, discarding it somewhere across the room.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…” Emily purrs, her hands driving up your inner thighs and spreading them open.

You whine in response, shifting up onto your elbows to get a better view of her.

Emily presses her nose to the warm flesh of your inner thigh, her lips trailing wet kisses as she moves towards the apex.

You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, the closer she gets to where you need her the most. Using one hand, you sweep her hair to the side, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. 

Her nose sweeps over your mound, teasing, and she glances up at you.

“Please…” you whisper, hardly loud enough for her to hear. But she does.

Emily leans in with a proud smirk, her tongue flicking out and dragging up your sticky folds. 

The heat of her breath against your sex sends a fog to the back of her lenses as she delves in, her lips enclosing around your needy bud and suckling. You gasp at the sudden pressure, your back curling off the mattress, hips grinding against her mouth.

“Emily—fuck!” You pant, your hand tensing where it rests at the back of her head.

Her tongue laves languidly over your pussy, swirling around your clit and spreading the messy arousal.

She loops her arms under your thighs as she slips her tongue down to your entrance, holding them open wide and using her grip to build momentum as she fucks the pointed muscle into you.

Your head falls back, jaw slackened as quiet moans slip past your lips.

Emily groans against your sex, and the vibrations send a jolt throughout your entire body.

You lift your head to watch her again.

The older woman’s face holds a look of complete and utter concentration as she eats you. Her brows furrowed, eyes fluttering closed before flicking open and training on you. 

Her glasses have slipped so low that they threaten to fall completely off. You reach down unceremoniously and press them up her bridge with a shaky finger.

Emily’s blackened eyes are locked on your face over the frames. She smiles wolfishly, like a predator that’s just found its prey. You send her a lopsided smile back, your face burning with the flush of arousal.

She leans back, detaching her mouth from your pussy for a short moment. She slips one hand from beneath you leg and brings in up to your center, using the pad of her thumb to press at the topside of your clit.

She circles it slowly, her lips parted, her chin and cheeks covered in the mess of your arousal.

“So pretty…” She licks her lips slowly, pulling the bottom one between her teeth. “My girl tastes so good.”

You whine at the filthy compliment, canting your hips against the ministrations of her thumb.

“Hm, get these nice and wet for me, doll.” Emily reaches up from between your legs with the same hand that was on your clit and presses her fingers to your lips.

You open for her on command, taking the entire length of her middle and index fingers into your mouth. You hum around the digits, swirling your tongue and thoroughly coating them in saliva.

Emily pulls them from your mouth with an audible pop, her cheeks slightly flushed from just how eager you are for her.

“Good girl…” she grumbles, dipping down again to reattach her mouth to your clit. You gasp as she sucks on the bud harshly, the muscles in your abdomen twitching. 

Her wet fingers dance over your entrance, toying with your labia before her middle finger dips inside just to the first knuckle. She pulls out again, circling your slit against before pressing the entire finger inside, twisting as it sheaths and curling up into your g-spot. 

“Hm—more…” you cry, your head tilting to the side and resting on your shoulder.

Emily watches you as she slips out again, her teeth grazing your swollen clit before she presses both her middle and index finger inside. She bottoms out slowly, and a low groan rattles through your chest. 

Her long, thick fingers stretch you so deliciously, fucking into you at an angle so perfect—she has you writhing in mere seconds.

“Fuck, Emily—harder.” You pant, rutting against her thrusts.

The squelch of her fingers curling inside you is utterly lewd, and you know you’re making a mess on the sheets, but neither of you could care less.

Emily suckles on your clit tirelessly, switching between that and teasing circles with the tip of her tongue.

“Oh my god…” You gasp, your thighs beginning to tremble as you feel your orgasm building rapidly inside. “Don’t stop—fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.” 

Emily hums around your clit in acknowledgment, eyes still locked on your face as she works you to the edge.

Staccato whimpers escape your throat with nearly each breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly, flushed and slick with sweat.

Your thighs tighten around her head as the pressure in your womb reaches its apex, before releasing. 

Emily stills her fingers inside as you clamp down on her, your body curling in on itself as your muscles tense and release with the shocks of your orgasm. Her tongue swirls around your sensitive bud slowly, easing you down as the final tremors work their way out.

With the palm of your free hand, you press her forehead back as the overstimulation becomes too much.

“Okay, okay…” You laugh breathily, letting your legs relax back down onto the bedding. “So fucking good.”

Emily hums and presses chaste kisses to your thighs and your belly as she rises, crawling her way back up your body.

You take in her appearance again—your mess spread across her face, the flush on her cheeks, the condensation beginning to fade behind her lenses.

Her body settles on top of you, the heat of her skin radiating through her clothing.

Emily leans up to kiss you with a dazed grin. She always looks so pleased with herself after she makes you cum. It’s slow, and open-mouthed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue easily. 

Smoothing your hands down her back, you wrap yourself around her, arms tight around her shoulders and legs, her hips.

You pull away with a satisfied moan, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Thank you, the glasses did their job.” You praise, stroking the sweaty strand of hair away from her brow. Emily chuckles.

“I’ll try not to damage these ones…” She leans in and presses a chaste peck to your cheek before whispering, “But since it seems I’ll be doing stuff like that more often…”

“No promises…”

…

taglist: @piiinco @xoxo-maryssa @prentissmultiverse @blackcatlesbo @prentisslvrsworld @teeshatequila @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @classic-fangirl-emily-prentiss @wittygutsy @wandasdollie @maximoffcarter

[fishcake05]

I’m SO COOKED🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀also btw ppl need to invest more into Kai falling for laurie first then laurie falling WAYYY HARDER for Kai i sound crazy CRAZY I WAS CRAZY ONCE

[shesgaymichaelscott]

melissa x fem!reader where reader is jacob's sister and melissa says it's ok if she stays with them while she visits but they catch feelings fast. bonus points if reader decides to stay at the end (and maybe work at abbott?)

Sister, Sister

(really no warnings/tags, this is just a cute lil thing😇, fluff!)

Word Count: 6k

taglist <3: @writerspirit @schemmentigfs

~

"Melissa," Jacob said, following her into the kitchen like a particularly nervous shadow, "do you believe in the spirit of generosity?"

Melissa didn't look up from her coffee. "Jacob. You're already living in my house."

"Exactly!" he chirped, trying for cheerful but landing somewhere between guilty and manic. "And it's been so generous of you. The way you let me move in—and may I say, I've felt so at home, especially once I got over the smell of Vicks VapoRub in your bathroom—"

"You used my towel, Jacob."

"I said I was sorry!"

She gave him a look that could blister drywall. "What do you want?"

"Okay. Hypothetically. What if someone else needed a place to stay too?"

Melissa narrowed her eyes. "If this is about moving more of your jackets into my closet, the answer is still no."

Jacob laughed nervously. "No! Nothing like that! It's not for me. It's for... my sister."

Melissa blinked. "You don't have a sister."

"I do!" he said quickly. "You've just never met her because she lives in D.C. and has this wildly impressive life and she's very kind and beautiful and calm and basically the anti-me."

Melissa raised a brow. "So she's imaginary."

"She's real," he huffed. "And she's coming into town for a job interview. For a teaching job. At a charter school."

Melissa immediately narrowed her eyes. "Strike one."

"Or—" Jacob jumped in— "possibly at a public school if she can get her foot in the door. Which brings me to the thing I need to ask."

She stared at him over the rim of her mug.

"She was going to stay with a friend, but they had a pipe burst and now she doesn't have anywhere to go and I thought, well, I already live in your guest room—"

"—against my better judgment—"

"—and since she's only here for a few days, maybe she could crash on the couch or bunk with me or something? She's neat. Quiet. Way too nice for this family. You'll barely notice her."

Melissa sighed. She already knew she was going to say yes, and that fact alone irritated her. "Christ. Fine. She can stay."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. I got soft somehow. Must be all the estrogen from your skin care products."

Jacob hugged her. "You won't regret this! She's grounded. She's calm. And she's very pretty. Like, in a classic, non-threatening way."

Melissa narrowed her eyes. "Why would that matter?"

"No reason!" Jacob squeaked, backing toward the hall. "I'll go pick her up from the train!"

An hour later, you showed up on Melissa's doorstep wearing a soft sweater, nice jeans, and a nervous smile. You had a rolling suitcase, a canvas tote full of books, and a voice that made Melissa freeze when you said:

"Hi! You must be Melissa. Thanks so much for letting me stay—I promise I'll be a ghost. A very grateful, polite, dishwashing ghost."

Melissa blinked. You were warm. Pretty. Calm in a way that made the world around you feel quieter.

"Uh, yeah," she said, stepping aside. "Come in. Shoes off, thermostat's sacred, and don't let Jacob near the air fryer."

You laughed. "Noted."

Jacob wasn't wrong. You were easy. You complimented her throw pillows, helped her plate dinner without being asked, and when you sat at the table between her and Jacob, you looked more like you belonged there than he did.

She was supposed to be annoyed by the whole situation.

Instead, she kept glancing at you across the table—and couldn't stop wondering what your hair would smell like if you leaned just a little closer.

Melissa kept waiting for the awkwardness to kick in—for you to say something weird, or ask too many questions, or knock over a glass and apologize sixteen times. But you didn't. You just... fit.

Jacob did most of the talking (as usual), bouncing between stories about work and whatever book club he'd temporarily joined this week, while you laughed in all the right places and added thoughtful little interjections that somehow made Melissa want to talk more.

Which she never did. Not at dinner. Not like this.

When the food was gone and Jacob finally excused himself ("I have a call with my therapist-slash-poetry coach"), Melissa didn't even try to stop you from helping with the dishes. You stood next to her at the sink like it was something you'd done a hundred times before—easy, companionable, quiet except for the soft clink of forks in suds.

She handed you a towel. You dried the plates without her asking.

"So," you said, your voice low, not prying, "do you like working at Abbott?"

Melissa paused. Most people asked if she liked kids. You didn't. You asked about the school. The work.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do."

You glanced over at her, eyes kind. "Jacob says the kids love you."

She snorted. "Jacob says that because he's scared of me."

"I can see why," you teased, a playful glint in your eye. "You're very... intimidating. What with the apron and dish soap."

That made her smile. Damn it.

A few minutes later, you both had full wine glasses and had settled on the couch. Melissa curled into the corner without thinking. You mirrored her without hesitation.

"So," you asked, "what made you become a teacher?"

She didn't usually answer that question. Not really. But you waited, not filling the silence, not pushing.

"Kids get overlooked," she finally said. "Especially the loud ones. Or the ones with crap going on at home. I figured if I could be the one adult that sees 'em..." she shrugged, "that'd be worth something."

You were quiet for a beat.

Then, softly: "That is worth something."

When you looked at her again, Melissa saw it in your eyes. You weren't just being polite. You meant it. And somehow that was worse.

She drained the rest of her wine and stood. "Alright, enough sincerity for one night."

You grinned. "My lips are sealed."

She showed you where the towels were, muttered something about how Jacob stole all the good toothpaste, and tried not to notice the way you lingered in the hallway a little too long, looking around like it already felt a little bit like home.

And when she turned back toward the kitchen—just for one last glass of water—she passed the guest room with the door cracked open.

And you were there.

Not dressed up. Not tucked in. Just... you.

Standing near the bed in a loose, faded T-shirt, wiping off the last of your makeup with practiced, absent swipes. Your hair was soft now, not styled, just hanging around your face like you'd had a long day and stopped pretending it didn't wear you out.

You caught her watching.

She expected you to jump, to pull the door shut.

But instead, you smiled—gentle, quiet, warm.

"Goodnight, Melissa."

Melissa opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

"Night," she managed.

She walked away before she could do something stupid like ask if you wanted a cup of tea. Or tell you how nice you looked like that. Or admit that she didn't actually mind you being here.

That she liked it.

Instead, she lay in bed with the lamp off, staring at the ceiling, every soft part of her trying to win a war against the hard edge she'd spent years perfecting.

She was supposed to be annoyed.

She wasn't.

⸻

Melissa was already up when you wandered into the kitchen the next morning, your hair pulled half-up, eyes soft with sleep. You wore the same sweater from the night before, sleeves pushed up just past your elbows, and Melissa had to look away for a second because—Jesus—why was that so disarming?

"Morning," you said, voice still scratchy and gentle. "I didn't expect you to be up."

"I'm always up by six," she said, sliding a second mug of coffee toward you like it wasn't something she'd poured automatically the second she heard the floor creak.

You looked at it, then up at her. "You made me coffee?"

Melissa shrugged. "Didn't want Jacob ruining my ratio. He always adds too much creamer."

You smiled over the rim of the mug after your first sip. "This is really good."

"Don't tell him," she said, suddenly warm in the face. "He'll start expecting it."

You leaned on the counter across from her. "I already told him you're intimidating. But now I think I'm just impressed."

That made Melissa look up at you.

There it was again. That soft, real thing in your eyes. Like she didn't have to prove anything to you. Like you already saw her. And worse, like you liked what you saw.

"Do you always get this flirty before 7 a.m.?" she asked, trying to play it off, sipping her own coffee.

Your smile turned sheepish. "I'm only flirty when I'm nervous. I've got that interview this morning—remember?"

Oh. Right. The job. The possible move.

Melissa cleared her throat. "Charter school, right? In West Philly?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Not exactly my dream gig, but it's a start. Figured I'd try and move here either way. Be closer to Jacob. And—" You hesitated for half a beat. "I don't know. This place just feels... good."

Her stomach flipped.

She told herself it was the coffee.

"Good luck," she said. "You'll be great."

Before you could answer, chaos incarnate stormed into the kitchen (aka Jacob, wearing mismatched socks, a wrinkled button-up, and a righteous sense of urgency).

"Who touched my granola bar stash?!" he demanded, pointing wildly. "Melissa. Did you eat the one with the dark chocolate and sea salt? Be honest."

"I hid the one with the dark chocolate and sea salt," Melissa said flatly.

You held up your hands. "I swear I didn't touch the sacred snacks."

Jacob narrowed his eyes suspiciously but then noticed the coffee.

"Ooh! Did you make—" He took a sip from Melissa's mug and nearly choked. "Why is it strong enough to exfoliate my tongue?"

"Out," Melissa said, taking her mug back.

You grinned, grabbing your tote. "I should head out anyway. Wish me luck?"

Jacob launched into an elaborate two-minute affirmation ritual complete with finger hearts and a reference to Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Melissa just met your eyes and gave a quiet nod.

"Let me know how it goes."

You lingered for a second longer than necessary. Then nodded and left.

And Melissa stood there, mug in hand, throat dry, pretending she didn't feel like she'd just handed something important out the door.

⸻

"Wait, your sister is here?" Janine spun around so fast her curls hit Gregory in the face.

Jacob nodded, sitting on the edge of Barbara's desk. "Yep. She's in town for a job interview. Staying with me and Melissa."

Janine blinked. "With Melissa? And Melissa's okay with it?"

"I know, right?" Jacob grinned, proud and baffled. "I thought it'd be a whole thing. Like... Melissa would do that eye squint where you're not sure if she wants to kill you or just remove your spleen."

"She's very protective of her space," Barbara added diplomatically.

"I thought she hated houseguests," Janine whispered.

"She does," Barbara confirmed.

"Well, apparently not this one," Jacob said, pouring oat milk into his cup with a dramatic flourish. "She made her coffee this morning."

Janine's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "She shared her coffee?!"

"It wasn't just sharing. It was... intimate. They had, like, a moment. And Melissa didn't even threaten me."

Gregory shook his head. "Maybe she just likes your sister?"

Everyone froze.

Jacob slowly turned. "Gregory. With the dangerous ideas."

Barbara chuckled softly, then looked at Jacob. "Well, now I want to meet her."

Janine lit up like a lightbulb. "Yes! Bring her to Abbott! I need to see this mysterious Schemmenti-softener for myself."

You, meanwhile, had lasted approximately twelve minutes at the charter school before realizing it wasn't for you.

Maybe it was the cold tile floors. Or the way the front desk staff barely looked up. Or the framed quote in the hallway that read, "Rigidity breeds success."

Whatever it was, by the time the assistant principal used the word "compliance" for the third time, you were done.

You ducked into the parking lot and called the only person you knew in town with unfailing enthusiasm and a five-minute window between classes.

"Hey," you said, trying not to sound deflated.

Jacob answered instantly. "Did you get hired already?!"

"God, no. I barely got out. I think they wanted me to monitor bathroom breaks with a stopwatch."

"Yikes. That's a no."

"Big no," you sighed. "I still have time to kill before you're off. Should I just head home?"

There was a pause.

Then, "Come to Abbott."

You blinked. "What?"

"You're literally two blocks away. Come to Abbott. You can help in my classroom. We're doing paper mâché Egyptian tombs, and half of my students are allergic to glue sticks, apparently."

You hesitated.

He pushed. "C'mon. Janine wants to meet you. Barbara will adore you. And Melissa—"

"What about Melissa?"

"Melissa won't care," he said a little too fast. "Just come."

Twenty minutes later, you were standing outside the chaotic, sunlit doors of Abbott Elementary, tote bag over your shoulder, second-guessing every life choice—until the door swung open and Janine Teagues practically bounced toward you.

"Oh my god," she said, pulling you into a hug like you were long-lost family. "You're so cute! Jacob undersold you. Come in! Are you an Earth sign?"

You laughed. "Um, Taurus?"

"I knew it. Come on, I'll show you around before we go to Jacob's room."

The building was older, colorful, loud in the way that meant it was alive. Teachers ducked in and out of rooms, kids darted down the hall laughing, and everything smelled vaguely like crayons and possibility.

Barbara Howard greeted you with a measured nod and a warm smile. "Jacob's sister," she said, shaking your hand. "He speaks very highly of you."

"That's sweet," you replied, glancing at Jacob. "Though slightly suspicious."

Barbara chuckled. "You'll do just fine here."

And then—then—you passed her room.

Melissa was at her desk, arms crossed, eyes on something in her gradebook, red pen in hand like a weapon. She didn't look up.

But you felt her glance. Just for a second.

You smiled anyway. "Hey."

She looked up—briefly. "Hey."

Janine leaned in. "We'll be in Jacob's class if you need backup. Or a snack. Or a soul reading."

Melissa blinked at her, then looked at you again. "You here all day?"

"Just helping out," you said lightly. "Trying to stay out of trouble."

"Good luck," she muttered, eyes flicking to Jacob. "He's a magnet for chaos."

"I'll protect him," you grinned.

Something flickered in her expression—amusement? Fondness? She didn't answer. Just nodded and returned to grading, but her pen didn't move for several long seconds.

Jacob's class was... something.

You'd forgotten the raw chaos of middle school energy. These kids weren't afraid to test boundaries—or glue their tombs shut with Elmer's and an alarming amount of glitter.

But you handled it.

You redirected questions. You diffused drama. You helped one student design a sarcophagus lid while another asked if you were married, and when you said no, she whispered, "Miss Schemmenti is also not married," like she'd just discovered a critical piece of state intelligence.

At lunch, you sat with Janine, Barbara, and Jacob in the lounge while Gregory gave you a slow once-over, nodding politely.

"Jacob's sister, huh?" he said. "Didn't expect you to be so quiet."

"She's deceptively calm," Jacob added, mouth full of granola bar. "Like a duck on water. Serene on the surface, kicking like hell underneath."

"She's good with the kids," Barbara said warmly. "Very natural. I assume you're considering local options?"

You hesitated, and your eyes flicked—without thinking—toward the second grade classroom just down the hall.

"Maybe," you said softly.

⸻

That night, back at Melissa's, you helped with dinner again without being asked. Jacob flitted in and out, offering critiques from the sidelines, until Melissa swatted him with a dishtowel and sent him to set the table.

You sautéed vegetables. Melissa grilled chicken. You found a rhythm.

"You didn't mention you were good with kids," she said casually as she stirred something on the stove.

"You didn't mention you were watching me," you replied, teasing.

She smirked. "I wasn't."

"Sure."

There was a beat of silence.

"You made it look easy," she said eventually, a little quieter.

You shrugged. "It felt easy."

You turned and caught her looking again. Just briefly. But her expression had softened.

Dinner was relaxed. Jacob told an overly dramatic story about a student who tried to claim his tomb had been cursed, and you leaned into the table with a quiet laugh that made Melissa watch your mouth more than she should've.

Afterward, the three of you ended up on the couch, full and lazy, with half a glass of red wine each and Jeopardy playing low on the TV.

"Please," Jacob said, tossing a throw pillow over his face. "She's a human encyclopedia. I'm begging you not to buzz in."

You grinned, already sitting up straighter. "I can't help it. It's genetic."

"You're adopted."

Melissa snorted into her wine.

Ten minutes in, you'd correctly answered six questions in a row—without hesitation.

Melissa turned to you slowly. "You're a trivia nerd."

You nodded proudly. "Big time. My brain's basically 70% facts no one asked for."

She laughed—really laughed. "You're kidding."

"Nope. I used to run a bar trivia night back home. Thursdays were 'Obscure History' rounds. I got booed a lot."

Melissa looked at you like she was trying not to smile too hard. "You'd kill at poker."

"I'm terrible at poker," you said, dead serious. "I can't bluff for anything."

Jacob groaned. "Don't bond over gambling. You're encouraging her."

But Melissa wasn't listening to him.

She was watching you—with your socked feet tucked under you, your makeup off, a soft t-shirt that made your eyes look warmer somehow—and she was thinking about how easy it was to sit next to you. How you didn't fill the space with noise. How your laugh stayed with her longer than the punchlines.

Jacob dozed off partway through Final Jeopardy.

You and Melissa stayed up.

Quiet. Comfortable.

When she finally stood, stretching with a soft groan, she glanced back at you.

"You settling in okay?" she asked.

You smiled. "Better than okay."

And maybe she shouldn't have liked that answer so much.

The next morning, Jacob's class was knee-deep in paper-mâché chaos when you arrived—but instead of corralling middle schoolers again, he passed you a coffee and a sly smile.

"Change of plans. Melissa needs a hand today. Her aide called out."

Your heart thumped.

"Oh?"

"She didn't ask for you," he added quickly. "She just said she needed someone competent and not Ava. I filled in the blanks."

You sipped your coffee. "Did she... seem okay with it?"

"She didn't throw anything."

"That's your metric?"

Jacob shrugged. "She didn't throw something at me. So I figured we were good."

Melissa's classroom was calmer than Jacob's, but only in that it wasn't actively on fire.

She looked up from a spelling worksheet when you stepped in and didn't smile—but the slight softening of her eyes was just as good.

"You got drafted?"

"Apparently."

She nodded to the whiteboard. "We're doing compound words and then a read-aloud. And if Jacob asks about his pencil again, I told him you cast a protective spell on it."

You laughed and moved to her side instinctively. "Did I?"

"Clearly. He hasn't lost it all day."

By snack time, the kids were glued to your read-aloud voice. By lunch, Melissa had let you handle half the spelling review. By math, she caught herself watching you again—your hands, your patience, the way the students leaned toward you like flowers to sun.

She crossed her arms tighter and turned away.

She was not falling for Jacob's sister.

Barbara noticed. Of course Barbara noticed.

She stepped into Melissa's room during recess, leaned casually against the bookshelf, and fixed Melissa with that look—the one that could peel paint from the walls.

"She's good," Barbara said mildly.

Melissa didn't look up. "Mmhmm."

"Kind. Calm. The children like her."

"I noticed."

"And you like her."

Melissa finally looked at her. "She's Jacob's sister."

Barbara raised one regal eyebrow. "And you're a grown woman."

Melissa exhaled. "It's a bad idea."

Barbara's smile was faint but knowing. "Maybe. Or maybe you just don't want to admit you feel soft about something."

Melissa opened her mouth, closed it, then muttered, "I hate when you're right."

Barbara's chuckle was like gospel. "Then you're going to really hate what's about to happen."

Their staff meeting after school was supposed to be about art supply ordering.

It was not.

Because Janine, Gregory, Barbara, Jacob, and even Mr. Johnson had decided they were not letting you disappear.

"She's literally perfect," Janine was saying, hands waving. "She can teach, she knows kids, and she doesn't flinch when a second grader sneezes directly into her mouth! Hire her!"

Ava, on her phone in sunglasses, did not look up. "We already have teachers."

"We have a hallway ghost aide position open!" Jacob cried. "She'd be perfect!"

"She's from out of town," Ava said. "What if she's just here for vibes and brunch?"

"She applied to Liberty," Melissa said suddenly.

Everyone turned.

Ava squinted. "Why do you know that?"

Melissa shrugged, too casual. "She told me. After I said she was good with the kids."

Barbara sipped her tea smugly. Janine let out an audible gasp.

Gregory blinked. "So we all agree she should stay?"

"Yes," said everyone.

Ava groaned. "Fine. I'll talk to HR. But if she ghosts us after I start her paperwork, I'm sending her a Molotov in the mail."

Meanwhile, in the quiet kitchen back at Melissa's house, you were spooning pasta into a bowl and thinking about the kids who hugged you goodbye.

Thinking about the way Melissa's voice softened when she said, "You here all day?"

Thinking—maybe, maybe—you didn't want to leave after all.

⸻

The next morning started with rain, a stubbed toe, and Melissa offering you a mug of coffee with a gruff, "You good?" that sounded a little too much like don't leave for her comfort.

You nodded, hugging the cup. "I've got the Liberty interview after school."

She didn't look up from the toaster. "Right."

"They're big on tech integration, I guess. Lots of digital dashboards."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

You snorted. "Yeah, but at this point I need a job."

Melissa set the toast down harder than necessary. "Ava's supposed to interview you today."

You blinked. "What?"

"She's dragging her feet, as usual. But it's happening. After lunch."

"Wait, she actually said she'd do it?"

"She said if she had time between 'administering justice' and her lash appointment, she'd try."

You laughed into your mug. "That's promising."

Melissa didn't smile. Just looked at you—wet hair in soft waves, hoodie sleeves pushed up, sleepy eyes—and felt something crawl up her spine that she did not have time for.

"I'm just saying," she said, almost too casually, "you've already got people here who like you. That's worth something."

Your heart did a soft, dumb little flip.

But before you could answer, Jacob came crashing into the kitchen, soaked from the rain and ranting about a pigeon that stole his umbrella.

Melissa rolled her eyes and muttered, "Never mind."

⸻

At lunch, Ava finally remembered she was supposed to be doing something work-adjacent.

"Interview time!" she said, bursting into the teacher's lounge in a lime green tracksuit and sparkly slides. "Let's get this over with before I start reading your aura."

You blinked. "Wait, now?"

Jacob cheered. "Yay! You're gonna kill it!"

Barbara gave you a wink, and Janine practically dragged you to Ava's office, where a "job interview" was already in full swing. If you could call it that.

Ava had her feet on her desk and sunglasses on indoors. "So, tell me your name again. For legal reasons."

You blinked. "It's on my resume."

"Right. And what makes you wanna work at the greatest school in Philly?"

Janine popped up with a notepad like she was your agent. "She's good with kids, adaptable, certified in two states, and Jacob's sister but in a good way."

"I still say we make her co-assistant principal," Ava mused. "Then I don't have to attend meetings. Or answer emails. Or—wait, what's the job she's applying for again?"

You turned to Barbara, who gave you a rare, gentle smile from the seat beside Ava. "You belong here, dear. That's what we're saying."

You blinked. "All of you?"

A voice behind you—steady, low, familiar—answered.

"Yes."

You turned.

Melissa stood in the doorway, arms crossed like usual, but her eyes were soft. "You belong here."

And for the first time in a while, you believed it.

Back in the hallway after, Melissa walked with you in companionable silence.

"You're still going to Liberty?"

"I kind of have to. It's scheduled."

She nodded. "Right."

A beat.

"You know we'd take care of you here, right?"

You turned, a little startled.

Her eyes were dark, steady. "If you stayed."

You felt the air shift.

"Yeah," you said. "I know."

You didn't say it out loud, but you already knew the truth:

Liberty never stood a chance. You felt drawn to Abbott.

And maybe the people—one in particular.

Later than evening, Jacob left for a book reading at seven.

He hovered in the doorway with his tote bag and his excitement and his gentle insistence that you should come because it was "a very timely queer memoir and the author includes footnotes!", but you begged off, blaming a fake headache and an even faker yawn.

"I'll just stay in," you said, rubbing your temple. "Long day."

He bought it. Or pretended to. Either way, you waved him out and stayed behind.

With Melissa. Alone.

She didn't say much at first. Just went about reheating leftovers, her motions precise, practiced. You offered to help, and she handed you silverware and salad tongs without meeting your eye.

Dinner was quiet. Peaceful.

You sat across from each other, plates between you, the hum of the fridge filling the spaces where Jacob's chatter usually lived.

"I think I'm staying," you said eventually, voice low.

Melissa didn't look surprised. She nodded once. "Yeah?"

You pushed a piece of lettuce across your plate. "It's not just Abbott. Though it is that. I... haven't felt that wanted in a long time."

She looked up then. Met your eyes. "You should feel wanted."

You swallowed. "It's been a weird couple of years. I've moved around a lot. Never quite stuck. And I started thinking maybe it was me. That maybe I'm just not someone people... keep."

Melissa set her fork down.

"That's not true."

Your chest ached. "You don't know that."

"I know what I see."

You blinked.

Her voice was softer now, but steady. "The way my kids look at you. The way you listen. Like what they say matters."

You gave her a small, uneven smile. "Maybe I'm just good at pretending."

"You're not."

That stilled you.

She leaned back slightly, searching your face, like she wanted to say something more but didn't know how to get it past her teeth.

So you gave her a thread to pull. "Why do you care so much?"

Melissa's brow creased. "Because you matter."

Simple. Quiet. Like it had been true for a while now.

You didn't speak.

Just watched her, heart in your throat, as she reached for her wine and didn't drink it.

The air between you tightened. Subtle. Magnetic.

Your eyes dipped to her mouth.

And hers—to yours.

Neither of you moved. Not quite. But something shifted.

Her hand twitched like it wanted to reach across the table. Yours mirrored it without thinking.

Then she stood too fast, the chair scraping the floor. "I'll get dessert."

You blinked. "I didn't know there was dessert."

"There isn't," she said, already walking to the freezer. "But I got some stupid mini ice cream bars Jacob won't touch because they're not 'plant-based nostalgia.'"

You laughed, quietly.

She passed you one a minute later, sat back down. Didn't meet your eyes again for the rest of the meal.

But her foot bumped yours under the table and didn't move.

⸻

The next morning, you walked back into Abbott like you already belonged there.

Jacob met you at the front doors with a coffee and a proud older-brother smile that made your throat tighten.

"You look bright-eyed and extremely not-hungover," he said as you took the cup.

"High bar," you teased.

"Only the best for my beloved sister-slash-new favorite co-teacher. I told Ava you were coming in again, and she said, and I quote, 'Cool, free labor.' Which, honestly, is her love language."

You snorted, bumping shoulders with him as you followed him down the hall.

The school was warm. Familiar now. And terrifying in the way things are when you know you're already attached.

"I talked to Liberty," you admitted as you stepped into his classroom. "Told them I wasn't interested."

Jacob stopped short, eyes wide. "Wait. You—what?"

"I turned it down."

"You turned down Liberty for—" He gestured around you. "This?"

You looked around too. Paper mâché pyramids. Posters. Pencil shavings. Heart.

"Yes."

He stared at you. "Because of me?"

You smiled, soft and a little sad. "Because of you, because of the kids, because of Barbara and Janine and... because I didn't want to leave."

He caught it. The hesitation.

His eyes narrowed in a flash of older brother perception. "Because you didn't want to leave... who, exactly?"

You sat down at the student desk nearest you and busied yourself with straightening a pile of papers. "I'm not—"

"Melissa?" he said like a delighted accusation.

Your silence betrayed you.

"Oh my god. Oh my god," he whispered like it was Christmas morning. "You have a thing."

"I do not."

"You do. I knew it! I mean, it's classic. Grumpy redhead with a secret marshmallow center meets quiet, emotionally intelligent hot girl from out of town—"

"Jacob."

"You're basically a Hallmark movie."

You covered your face with your hands.

"I'm just saying," he went on, voice pitched with glee, "you two were literally staring at each other across the dinner table like you were in a period drama. I thought at any moment she was going to dramatically stand and declare her intentions."

"I nearly kissed her last night."

Jacob's jaw dropped so hard it may have unhinged.

"Are you kidding?!"

"No," you said quietly, cheeks warm. "But I didn't. She stood up. Got ice cream instead."

Jacob blinked. "God. That is the most Melissa thing I've ever heard."

"I don't know if I should tell her," you admitted. "What if I'm wrong? What if I misread it? What if I say something and ruin everything?"

Before he could respond, the door burst open.

"Did someone say romance?!"

Janine entered like a whirlwind of glitter and emotional intuition, coffee in hand, eyes bright.

Jacob pointed at you like he'd been waiting for backup. "She's in love with Melissa."

Janine gasped. "Knew it!"

You groaned, but Janine ignored it, pulling up a chair like this was an emergency meeting of the Abbott Elementary Love Council.

"Okay. We all see it. Melissa sees it. She just doesn't know what to do with it. Which is classic trauma response meets internalized tough-girl act. She needs a nudge."

You stared at them both. "A nudge?"

"Say something," Jacob urged. "Tell her. You don't even have to be weird about it. You could literally say, 'Hey, I like you. That's part of why I'm staying.'"

Janine nodded. "Boom. That's cute. That's honest. That's vulnerable."

"And if she doesn't feel the same?" you asked softly.

Jacob sobered. "She does."

Janine added, "But even if she didn't? You still belong here. You're not just Melissa-adjacent. You've got your own place here. We all feel it."

You stared down at your hands. Heart thudding.

You wanted to believe them. You wanted to believe that maybe this place—this person—could really be yours. But first, you had to stop dancing around it.

Before it passed you by.

Abbott's end of school day was always a kind of exhale. Students gone, halls quiet, the soft hum of the janitor's cart somewhere in the distance. Most teachers had packed up and left, or were hiding in their rooms pretending they had. You wandered the hall slowly, heart thudding in your chest like it had a deadline.

Melissa's classroom door was cracked.

You hesitated outside of it, one hand on the frame, willing your voice to work. When it didn't, you knocked gently and peeked inside.

She was alone, red pen still in hand, grading spelling tests with the same focus she gave her football bets and life in general.

"Hey," you said softly.

Her head lifted immediately. That unreadable look in her eyes again. "Hey."

"Can I come in?"

"Door's open," she said, but her voice had softened in a way that made it feel like more than just an answer.

You stepped inside, let the door close gently behind you. She didn't stand, but she leaned back a little, arm resting along the edge of the desk, like she was trying not to look too interested.

You cleared your throat. "I, um... I turned Liberty down."

She blinked. "Yeah?"

You nodded, stepping a little closer. "And Addington. And the other one."

Her brow furrowed. "You're running out of options, sweetheart."

"I know." You took a breath. "Except one."

That made her go still.

You moved to the desk slowly, heart in your throat. "Abbott was never the plan. But the last few days... it's felt like home. I haven't felt that way in a long time. Not at school. Not anywhere."

Melissa set the pen down. Didn't speak.

"And I think part of that is Jacob and the kids and the chaos and Barbara's very gentle judgment."

That made her smile, small and flickering.

"But part of it," you continued, voice just a little more raw now, "is you."

You saw her take a breath. Her hands flexed lightly on the desk.

"I feel something when I'm near you," you said. "Like I've found something I didn't know I was missing. And I don't want to go back to not feeling that way. So if I'm staying—if I'm really doing this—then I need you to know that."

Silence.

You swallowed. "Melissa?"

She stood. Slowly. Crossed the room like she was approaching a fuse that might spark too early. But her eyes never left yours.

When she stopped in front of you, you weren't sure what to expect—she was hard to read at the best of times—but her hand reached up and gently brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I knew," she said.

Your breath caught.

"I didn't want to," she added, a little quieter. "Because it felt like too much, too fast. Like maybe I'd scare you off."

You gave a wet laugh. "That's Jacob's job."

She smiled.

Then, more serious: "But I don't want to scare you. I don't want to push."

"You're not," you said. "I'm here. I want to be here."

Her hand lingered by your cheek. You leaned into it, just slightly, and her thumb brushed your skin like she couldn't believe she was allowed to.

She leaned in—just a few inches—and stopped.

"Can I—?"

You kissed her.

Soft. Sure. Like you were making a promise.

When you pulled away, she looked dazed in the best way. Her voice was rough when she finally spoke.

"Jesus Christ."

You smiled. "That a good 'Jesus Christ' or a bad one?"

She kissed you this time.

Yeah. Definitely a good one.

Ten minutes later, you were walking side-by-side down the hallway, Melissa's hand brushing yours but not quite holding it. You couldn't stop smiling.

"You know," you said, "technically Ava hasn't even offered me the job."

"She will," Melissa muttered.

"And if she doesn't?"

"I'll threaten her."

You laughed. "You think that'll work?"

Melissa gave you a look. "You ever been threatened by a Schemmenti? Works every time."

As you turned the corner toward Ava's office, you glanced sideways at her.

"Thank you," you said softly.

She didn't ask for what.

Just bumped your shoulder and said, "Don't thank me yet. You still gotta survive picture day, parent-teacher conferences, and at least one fire drill where a kid pulls it because he forgot his homework."

You grinned. "Sounds like home."

She looked at you then—really looked at you—and nodded.

"It is now."