#ALSO it's so important to me that you burn Jonathan's profile into your minds

[jonathanbyersphd]

Instagram Profiles for our Spidey AU leads that I spent way too much time on

[pillbug-armor]

Professor x Student slow burn

8k words

summary: When Professor Jonathan Holbrook meets his new TA, Emma Morgan, he is struck by her magnetic, charming personality. Before long, he finds himself drawn to her in ways that violate every rule of professionalism in the book. When they find themselves alone in his office after a long semester together, Jonathan finds that his resolve is not as unbreakable as he would hope...

cw: age difference (legal), prof-student relationship, protected seggsual activity, p in v, unequal power dynamics

original characters,  any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

this is a pretty slow burn, with full consent from both characters bc i think it's important also find it really hot. Also has a bit of a softer feel, the characters like each other a lot/have a relationship outside of the seggs. hope you like it, bc i had a great time writing it! also if you are a compsci nerd this one goes out ya'll bc holbrook is a data science professor haha

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The first day of a semester was always simmering with energy. Professor Jonathan Holbrook was still getting used to the fact that it was his job to capture and direct the attention of an entire lecture hall full of early twenty-somethings. 

He looked at the clock on his computer screen: 9:26 AM. In four minutes, he wouldn’t be Jonathan, the newly 30 year old man who had struggled to drag himself out of bed two hours earlier with a sore neck. He would be Professor Holbrook, sharp, alert, assertive, ready to share his passion for data science with approximately 250 people who may or may not feel the same. 

Absent-mindedly, he tipped his chair back and forth, bracing one foot against the podium from which he’d soon be delivering an icebreaking personal introduction. 

“Professor Holbrook?”

With a slight jerk, he righted his chair. A student was standing in front of him. 

Shaking her hand, he replied, “Yes, that’s me.”

Her grip was as firm and assured as her voice. She smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Emma. Emma Morgan. I’m your TA for this semester.” 

“Emma! It’s great to finally put a face to your name. Would you want to sit up here? Or would you rather sit with the students?” He noticed that she had curly brown hair and freckles, neither of which had been apparent in her tiny email profile photo. 

She turned to look out at the lecture hall. “I think I’d like to sit with the students. I mean, I feel more like a student than anything else.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she walked over to a seat in the front row and set her backpack down.

Jonathan nodded, then glanced at his laptop again. 9:29 AM. He turned back towards Emma, who was looking at him with a slight furrow in her brow. 

“You ready for the semester, Emma?”

Her face relaxed, and her brown eyes met his. “Ready as I can be, I guess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Professor Holbrook”. 

Jonathan looked up from the email he had been typing. “Hi Emma. You don’t have to call me Professor Holbrook, by the way. You can just call me Jonathan.”

Shrugging her backpack off her shoulders, she replied, “If you say so. Where do you want me to sit?” In the current emptiness of his office, her purple and blue striped shirt was the only pop of color. 

Hastily, he reached out and pulled a chair up next to his own. “Here’s fine. And would you mind closing the door before you sit down?”

She shut the door gently, sat down, and turned to face him, legs crossed at the ankle. He pushed up his sleeves and turned to grab his planner. As he was about to ask Emma how her morning was going, he noticed her gaze had settled on his forearm. 

Almost as quickly as he’d noticed, she flicked her eyes back up at him. Her mouth opened slightly, soundlessly, before she said, “Sorry. Uh, I like your tattoos. Is that a parakeet?”

“Yeah, it’s a blue winged parakeet. I had one as a kid and it was my favorite pet of all time.”

She smiled, crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and set them in her lap. She ran a hand through her hair, then said, “That’s cool. Birds are my favorite animals.” For a second longer, she held his gaze, then she looked down, waiting for him to continue. 

Her nervousness was making him slightly nervous as well. He laughed politely, then said, “So anyways. Let me give you the rundown of how recitation is going to work. Then, we can discuss when you’d like to have your office hours, and anything else you have questions about.”

This first weekly meeting went by smoothly. Jonathan found that he did most of the talking; Emma rarely interrupted him to ask questions. She took notes in a somewhat battered, plain notebook, writing unhurriedly. Her hands were delicate, nails perfectly painted a light shade of pink.

As their meeting came to a close, Jonathan said, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She paused, then said, “Do you have any for me?”

He thought for a brief moment. “How has your first week back on campus been, Emma?”

She blinked at him, then said “Good. I mean senior year is going to be super busy, but I’m really glad that I get to see all my friends all the time.”

He replied, “Well, that’s good. I’m thankful to have you as a TA. You seem very organized and on top of it.”

At this, she laughed. “Don’t be fooled by the notebook, Jonathan.” He found himself smiling as she said, “I actually have no idea what’s on most of these pages”. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checked the time, then said, “I have to go to my next class. I’ll see you in lecture tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow.”

She stood, threw her backpack over one shoulder, then turned and walked into the hallway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aaaaand voila. Ok, if you’ve been following along, you’ll see that the output of this function should match the correlation coefficient given in the answer key.”

By now, a month into the semester, Jonathan had eased back into the swing of lecturing. He felt he’d established a good rapport with his students; a decent number of them even showed up to office hours. 

He hit the Enter key to run the code cell he’d just written, only to be shown a red “error” message. A murmur broke out through the lecture hall. 

He sighed, then said, “Don’t panic guys, this is only the 8th time this has happened this week.” He scrolled to the top of the cell, combing through the lines to find his mistake.

“Jonathan.”

He looked up, and saw that Emma had raised her hand. “What’s up?”

She grinned mischievously, then said, “You spelled “scipy” wrong at the top. Like where you include the libraries.”

He made a show of scrolling very slowly back to the top of the cell, and saw that she was correct. 

The students laughed, and he laughed with them. He raised his hands in defeat and said, “I’m a computer guy, not an English major.” 

As the noise died down, Emma said, “You do know that “python” starts with “p-y” right? Not “p-i.”

He shot back, “Emma. You double indented like 7 lines in a for loop last week and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with your code.” As he spoke, he moved to the front of the podium so he was standing in front of her. 

In mock outrage, she put a hand on her chest. “That’s because I was using your stupid new IDE that runs on GitHub Copilot”. 

As he stepped closer to her chair, she bent her neck to look up at him. He looked directly into her eyes and said, “Let us know when you’re ready to leave the stone age and join us in 2023.”

He was acutely aware that everyone in the classroom was looking at them, as their banter had become a regular occurrence in every lecture.

She raised a hand to the side of her neck and took a breath in. He saw the rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand brushed the smooth, soft, skin of her jaw. 

After a beat, she extended her hand towards him. He stepped even closer to her, and grasped her hand in his. He swore he could feel her pulse in her fingers. 

She shook his hand, then said, “I’ll send a smoke signal to your iPhone.”

He grinned as the class laughed, and stepped back behind the podium. As he continued on with his lecture, his gaze kept falling on Emma, and the soft smile that never left her face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8:30 AM was too early to be on campus by any metric. Yawning unabashedly, Jonathan walked towards the undergraduate lounge, the only room with an espresso machine in the engineering building. He couldn’t wait for a shot of raw caffeine to jolt him awake. 

When he pulled open the door, he was surprised to see Emma there, sitting on the sofa, laptop perched on one thigh. 

She looked up at him briefly. “Hey.”

He blinked. “What are you doing here so early?”

Her fingers brushed the touchpad of her machine as she said, “I have interview grading downstairs in like 20 minutes, and I figured I’d get here a bit early to add some final comments to my code.”

Jonathan leaned one hand against the table, then said, “What’s the project?”

She grimaced, then replied, “It’s an optimization lab.”

“Hmm.” He thought for a second. “Want me to take a look at it?”

“Sure,” Emma said. 

At the same time that he moved to sit on the couch, she stood to place her laptop on the table. Jonathan froze. Emma was still, both hands clutching her laptop, eyes shifting to the side. After a beat, he said, “Let’s just sit on the couch, you were already there anyways.”

Nodding, she sat back down. He took a seat next to her. 

Without looking at him, she went back to scrolling. She brushed a few curls away from her face as she explained her code to him.

As Jonathan gave his feedback, he noticed, for the first time, the light brown, almost shimmery hair on her forearms, and that she had a thin gold chain around her neck, the small pendant resting against the junction of her collarbone and her throat. Her white sneakers were scuffed, and she had purple ankle socks on. Suddenly, he was very aware that his thighs were only a few inches away from hers, and that he could see the outline, the shape of her crossed legs through her blue jeans. 

He folded his hands in his lap, looked over at Emma, and asked her why she had written a particular line of code with recursion instead of a loop. 

She smiled and nodded, pointing at the line of code he’d referred to. She had a perfect cupid’s bow, and her teeth were rounded and had slight gaps in between them. 

Jonathan’s mouth felt dry. He cleared his throat and said, “I think you’ll be fine. There are a couple places where a little restructuring could make the code run even faster, but honestly at that point it’s diminishing returns, you know?”

Emma’s gaze met his, and he was momentarily struck by the warmth in her brown eyes, despite the tired, purplish shadow that lay beneath each one. She yawned, and Jonathan almost looked away, but he didn’t, instead noticing the way her head tipped back, exposing the skin under her jaw, the way her tongue rested against her bottom teeth. 

She closed her laptop and slid it into her backpack. Jonathan blinked, feeling like some charge in the air had just vanished. 

“Thanks for the feedback, Jonathan. I appreciate you taking the time to help me out.”

He nodded, and said, “Anytime. You can always Slack me if you have questions about this kind of thing.”

She got up, and moved so she was standing directly in front of him. His knees were directly across from hers. she said, “I’ll let you know how interview grading goes. See you later, in lecture.”

“Sounds good,” He replied. She left the room, and for a few seconds, Jonathan stayed on the couch, not moving. 

He couldn’t believe that he’d thought to himself that, if he’d just reached out, he could have slid his hands under her t-shirt and onto the soft curves of her waist, and pulled her down until she was sitting on his lap.

Uneasily, he looked around. Nobody was there. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if people could see his thoughts anyways. 

It was going to be fine. It was just a fleeting thought, and, of course, Emma was beautiful. Anyone could see that. He was sure his mind wouldn’t betray him like that again. 

He got up, made his espresso, and went back to his office. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the next few weeks went by, Jonathan was starting to think that maybe he should request a different TA for the next semester. Emma was extremely helpful to him, always attentive to student’s questions in lecture, always completing tasks he asked of her on time. She was never late to a weekly meeting, and she was smart and funny to boot. 

But. Ever since running into her that early morning in the undergraduate lounge, his thoughts had become more and more intrusive. Rationally, he knew that the more he tried not to think them, the more they would take over his mind, but he couldn’t help it. Some kind of floodgate had opened, and he was powerless to stop the contents of his imagination from bursting through. 

During lecture, they bantered and conversed as usual in front of the class, and he was starting to feel like the student’s eyes were too much. Surely, every time he spoke to Emma, every time he walked out from behind the podium to stand in front of her seat, they could see that he was drawn to her like a magnet. Surely they could see that his eyes flickered to her lips, her hands, the delicate lines of her chest visible through her clothes. Surely they had noticed that he smiled every time she smiled, that he was inventing excuses to tease her and get her attention as he spoke. 

Emma was a student, a good student. It was completely unfair to her that his wayward thoughts threatened the professionalism of their interactions. 

But he couldn’t help it. When they had their weekly meetings, where it was just the two of them in his office behind a closed door for 30 whole minutes, he was overtaken by thoughts of what they could be doing instead of discussing curricular materials. He felt like he was gripping onto a mask of normalcy, struggling not to let even a hint of these imaginings show on his face when she was there. 

But when she left, and the door to his office closed, he would lean back in his chair, and his mind’s eye would open, hungry for something he could never see. He had given up trying to restrain it. 

He could see himself asking her how she was doing, how she was really doing. She would sigh and tell him that senior year was stressful, that she was struggling to figure out her next steps post undergrad. He would place his hands on hers, tell her that she had nothing to worry about, that she was so smart and capable that he was sure she would find her way. She would look into his eyes, the warm, melty brown color blooming in his vision, and she would incline her head towards his. He would lean in, breathe in the clean scent of her skin, brush his lips against her jaw, her neck, lace his fingers through the soft curls of her hair. He could see her breath quickening, her eyes closing, her fingers tightening their grip on his. He could hear the way she would try not to make a sound.

He could make her feel so good, he knew he could. He knew his hands could wrap around her waist, support the weight of her body if he held her close. He wondered what she had experienced in the past, if anyone else had touched and caressed and kissed and tasted her in the ways that he couldn’t stop imagining. 

He also knew that none of this could or would happen. It was probably in their best interest that he found a new TA for the next semester. He dreaded having to tell Emma this, knowing that she couldn’t know the true reason for his request. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he knew it was the right thing to do. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last day of the semester before winter break had arrived. All day, Jonathan had been helping to run the fall undergraduate showcase, where top students from various engineering disciplines displayed projects that they had worked on this year in class. Some highlights had been a web app that summarized terms and conditions, a working smartwatch prototype meant to help remind people to take medications, and a 3d printed fully articulating human hand with working motors that could theoretically be modified into a prosthetic limb. 

He checked his phone. 9:00pm. All that was left to do was fold up the last few tables and chairs, put them to the side of the engineering lobby for the cleaning crew to put into storage, and then finally, he could go home for the night. 

“Hey, is there anything else you need help with?” Emma’s voice brought his attention back to the tasks at hand. 

“If you just wanna fold up those chairs over there and put them on that rack over there, that would be great.”

He watched her walk away. For a second, he braced his forehead with his fingertips, and suppressed a sigh. 

He still hadn’t told Emma that he was going to be requesting a new TA for the upcoming semester. At this point, he was going to have to send her an email over break. Maybe it was better that way. Simple and quick. Impersonal. Professional. 

Even now, he had to measure his actions around her. It was starting to become unbearable, being near her and being unable to give substance to the thoughts that had been plaguing him. 

Another faculty member caught his eye and waved. “I’m gonna head out. Have a good break!”

He smiled tersely and waved back. His eyes surveyed the lobby, and he found that it had been tidied up satisfactorily. 

“Emma.” He called her name. She turned to look at him. “I think we’re good on cleanup. You wanna come up to my office with me to grab your stuff?”

She nodded. “Sure. It’s getting late.”

Side by side, they walked down a long hallway, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. After climbing a stairwell and turning a corner, Jonathan rummaged in his pocket for a key, unlocked the door to his office, and flicked on a light switch. 

He grabbed a couple notebooks off his desk and put them on a shelf, then looked over at Emma, who was blinking at the sudden onslaught of bright light. She pulled a jacket out of her bag and started putting it on. 

“Do you have a way of getting home? It’s getting cold out there.” 

Emma responded, “Yeah, the bus runs for another hour, so I should be good. Thanks for asking.”

He nodded, surveying his office for any other things that might need to be stored away during break. 

“Jonathan?” 

He paused. Emma stood, leaning on his desk, arms crossed. Her curly hair fell loose around her shoulders, slightly frizzy from rubbing against her jacket. 

“Yes?”

Emma moistened her lips with her tongue, then swallowed. Jonathan tried not to look at the way her throat bobbed up and down. 

“Thanks for having me as a TA. I had a lot of fun working with you this semester.”

She was staring into his eyes. She smiled at him, and he felt like he was going to lose his mind. Continuing on, she said, “Also, I appreciate you helping me out with looking for internships and stuff like that. And for giving me advice on projects. Seriously, you didn’t have to take the time to do all that. I really…I really felt like you were looking out for me.”

Against his will, Jonathan took a step forward, closing a good portion of the distance between them. She was now standing between him and the desk, neck craned slightly up to meet his gaze. 

He chose his next words carefully. “You’re a good…person, Emma. You really helped me out a lot this semester. I’m thankful to have had you as my TA.”

Emma swallowed again. Her eyes hadn’t left his, not even for a second. She uncrossed her arms, and gripped the edge of the desk with her hands. 

He added, “If you ever need help with anything else, Emma, you can always email me. Or Slack me. I’ll be here.”

She blinked up at him, and nodded her head. “I appreciate that, Jonathan. You’ve helped me out a lot too.” He saw that her knuckles had tightened on the desk. 

His heart dropped. Oh no. He’d failed. Somehow she knew all the wildly inappropriate thoughts that had passed through his brain for the better part of the semester. He was finished. 

But then, he saw something else. A pink flush had begun to creep up her neck. For a beat, he didn’t say anything. He felt like if he looked at her any longer he was going to go blind. 

After a moment, he said, “Emma. Are you ok?”

She let go of the desk with one hand, and pressed it against her neck, trying and failing to cover up the redness that was now flushing into her cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. Yeah I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just tired.”

“You should probably go home, Emma. Get some rest. It’s been a long semester and a long day.” He couldn’t believe that he was taking a step closer to her, even as he said this. He didn’t know if he’d ever stood this close to her. He didn’t know what in the world was possessing him to act like this. Every rational fiber of his being was screaming at him to step away from her, to let her go. 

Emma looked down at her shoes, then crossed one leg over the other, one hip jutting out as she shifted her weight. For an agonizing second, she didn’t say anything. 

Jonathan’s heart was starting to race. She was going to report him. She was going to tell someone that he shouldn’t be a professor at this school any more. 

Without looking at him, she mumbled. “The bus doesn’t get here for another 20 minutes. Maybe I could wait in here?”

No. She couldn’t wait in here. If she stayed in here, in his office, in this empty building where everyone else had gone home for break, his final thread of rationality and self control was going to snap.

��Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I mean, you can also probably just wait in the lobby. I mean, not that I need you to leave. Like I can wait with you. If you want. In the lobby. Or here. Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Christ, this was bad. He sounded nothing like the grown, adult professor that he had to be while he was on this campus. 

She leveled his gaze with her gorgeous, endlessly alluring brown eyes. “I’ll just wait here.”

He stared at her. Her cheeks were fully flushed pink now, and he suddenly noticed that her breathing had become measured, as if she was struggling to exert control over it. 

This wasn’t happening. This was definitely happening. This couldn’t be happening. 

Slowly, slowly, he leaned towards her. He was easily almost a foot taller than she was, so he had to bend down quite a bit. He put his hands on the desk, one on each side of her. Without touching her at all, he moved his head until his mouth was a breath away from her jawbone. 

Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. She inhaled, and he swore he could see her pulse jumping in her neck. 

Into her ear, he said. “Emma.”

At the sound of his voice, she exhaled deeply. She said, in a voice lower than he’d ever heard her use. “Professor Holbrook.”

He hovered there, still holding himself back from fully closing the space between them. For a second, there was no sound in his office but their breathing.

Jonathan knew at that moment that it was over. He was absolutely powerless to stop whatever happened next. He’d spent months resisting, fighting himself off, just for it all to end like this. 

Softly, he pressed his lips to Emma’s ear. She shivered, but made no motion to move away from him. Into the warmth of her skin he said slowly, “You should just call me Jonathan.”

She let go of the desk and placed her hand on his exposed forearm, onto the tattoo of a parakeet that she’d commented on all those months ago. He felt her fingers land on his skin with every single nerve that he had. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Emma. Are you alright?”

She turned to look at him, their noses inches apart. She nodded, fingers stroking over his arm softly, eyes searching his face. 

“Good” He rasped. He lifted a hand and cupped the side of her face, bending her head slightly away from him to expose the flushed skin of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she sighed softly. She placed her hand on top of his, lightly encouraging him to hold her. He bent his head down and kissed her right beneath the ear, firmly and slowly, savoring the way her breathing had become ragged and uncontrolled. As he pressed into her slightly with his tongue, fingers nestled in her curly hair, she softened, leaning into his touch fluidly. Jonathan’s mind had completely fogged over, and he was aware of nothing but the feeling of her skin, the heat now radiating off of her. 

She moved to unzip her jacket, and he helped her shrug it off her shoulders, letting it land unceremoniously on the floor. She jumped up so she was sitting on the desk, and he knelt carefully in front of her. Her hands were resting on her thighs; he grabbed them and placed them onto his shoulders. They felt warm even through his shirt, and Jonathan was remembering the sheer number of times he’d imagined her perfectly painted nails dragging against his skin. The upper part of her chest was exposed by her sweater, and he leaned in and kissed his way down her sternum, breathing in the vibrations in her chest as she gasped. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and he had to stifle a groan. He nudged her knees apart with one elbow, and moved forward so she was bracing her inner thighs on either side of his torso. Placing a hand on each of her hips, right where her jeans met the curve of her narrow waist, Jonathan reverently pulled her body closer to his, relishing the feeling of her hips pressing up against him. 

As he moved his mouth lower down her chest, she squeezed her legs tighter around him. Her breathing deepened, he could see the haphazard rise and fall of her shoulders. He wanted to feel more of her skin, more of her warmth. He slid his hands up under her sweater, fingers splaying against the smooth muscles of her back. 

Emma moaned softly, and Jonathan stopped, resting the side of his face against her stomach. 

“Jonathan.” He looked up at her face, and saw that her mouth was slightly open, her skin starting to dampen slightly with a light sheen of sweat.

“Yes, Emma?”

She started to say something, but then slowly moved her hands onto his forearms instead. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled his hands up higher, so that her sweater slid up against her body, exposing her navel and the lower part of her ribcage. Her skin was beautiful, rosy and smooth and soft to the touch.

Jonathan couldn’t hold back. He stood, gently pressing on her with his hands so she reclined onto his desk. She looked into his eyes as she laid back, searching his face. Her legs were still on either side of him as he bent over her, pressing slow, methodical kisses onto her stomach, her ribcage, where her bra concealed the lower curve of her small breasts. 

Her hips lifted against his thighs, and tension pooled in his lower stomach. He felt himself hardening against the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt like this, so single mindedly focused on the task at hand. 

He pulled her sweater up, over her head, and off her body. She was perfect, every bit as perfect as he’d imagined her to be. Her jeans hung loosely off her hips, her shoulders were sloped and elegant and curved perfectly into her neck, and he could see the peaks of small nipples nudging at the gray cotton fabric of her bra. One of them was intersected by a horizontal barbell. Jonathan felt a surge of heat course through him, upon finding out that his TA had had someone run a needle and metal jewelry through such a sensitive and hidden part of her body. 

He grabbed her by the waist and moved her farther up onto the table. He brushed the sides of her ribcage with his thumbs, and he pressed his mouth to the upper curve of her breast. A small sound escaped her throat. 

“Is this okay, Emma?”

She nodded soundlessly. He knew it was in fact not okay, that he was breaking every single rule about student-faculty relations he could think of.  But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care. Deftly, he pressed his tongue onto her nipple, wetting the thin fabric covering it. She jerked against him, and a moan left her lips. She traced her hands up to his head from his shoulders, fingers pulling slightly at his hair. The sensation shot through him and settled low into his hips, and he sucked in a breath. Without thinking, he surged forwards, pressing himself into her, and she responded by arching her back up off the desk. The thought that she could feel his length, that his stiffness felt as good to her as her softness did to him, made his pulse race. 

Jonathan reached up to cup her small breast; it rested perfectly in his hand. He used the pad of his thumb to brush lightly over her nipple, and he felt it harden at his touch. The color was high in her cheeks now, and her face had an expression that he’d only ever seen deep in the recesses of his mind. He hooked his thumb under the elastic band of her bra and pulled it up, fingers pressing soft dents into her skin. She was beautiful, her nipples perfectly round and a warm shade of light pink, accented by the gold barbell she had chosen. Even here, she had a light dusting of freckles on her skin. 

She tightened her grip on him, knees pressing into his sides urgently. He looked up at her, locking onto her brown eyes. Her lashes fluttered gently, and her eyes fell closed. Carefully, gently, he took her nipple into his mouth, softly licking the tip of it with the flat of his tongue. The hard metal jewelry clicked against his teeth, and he tugged at it ever so slightly.

Emma moaned, loudly, breath quickening. Encouraged by the sound, his hand softly stroked the bare skin of her other breast. Jonathan was coming undone, and he needed to feel more of her. His own desire was a white hot flash burning through him, filling him with need. He pulled her bra up over her head, and the sight of her naked torso spread all across his desk gave him pause. She really was perfect, and he couldn’t believe he was touching her like this, making her feel things she maybe hadn’t had the chance to feel before. 

He continued for a few minutes, sucking gently on her nipple at first, then gradually harder. He relished the textural contrast between her velvety skin and the smooth, hard jewelry. He slid his hands under her back, tracing them up and down, feeling every contour and curve. At this point, she was no longer silent. Every sound that escaped her went straight through him, eating away at whatever shred of his restraint might have remained.

When her hips started to jerk up, pressing into him involuntarily, he moved his hands down to the waistband of her jeans. He asked, “Emma. Do you want me to take these off?”

She sat up, and his hands stilled. Gently, he grasped her shoulders, bending down so he matched her eye level. 

He tried to slow his breathing as he waited for her to respond. After a beat she said, “I don’t know if we should.”

Immediately, he pulled back. “Of course, you’re right. Here, let me-”

She cut him off. “But also, it’s my senior year.”

Slightly dumbfounded, Jonathan just looked at her. A small, earnest smile was creeping its way onto her face. 

Her gaze darted down to the zipper area of his pants, then back up to meet his eyes. Jonathan found himself feeling a bit exposed, which did nothing to remedy the situation that had caught her eye. 

Emma spoke again. “I feel like…I’ve had a lot of fun getting to know you this semester, Jonathan. I think you’re a cool person. You’re really good at your job, you’re smart, you’ve been looking out for me. I guess, you know, whatever happens next, I still just want to keep having fun getting to know you.”

She was complimenting him. Genuinely complimenting him while she was sitting on his desk with no top on. His brain felt like it was going to explode. 

After a pause, she took a breath and continued. “I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything. Like for real, nobody is going to find out about this. If you’d rather stop that’s ok too but to be honest, I’m having fun.” She let out a laugh. “Jonathan, you have to know, you’re the hot professor. I feel kinda dumb saying this, but everyone says it. You - you’re gorgeous. During our first meeting in this office I felt like I couldn’t even look at you because you’re so…you know. And now I’m back here again and-” She laughed again, and he found himself smiling too. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Jonathan was at a loss for words. Finally, he gathered his thoughts enough to say, “Thank you. For the compliments, I mean. I really appreciate everything you said. And Emma, you have to know too, you’re beautiful. Everything about you-” He stopped and leaned forwards, placing his hands on her waist. She looked up at him, head tilted to the side. 

“Do you remember that morning when I helped you with your optimization lab?” Her eyes widened, and she nodded. He continued, “After you left the room, I thought to myself-” He hesitated. Was it a good idea to tell her?

Her brown eyes were so lucid, and he decided he didn’t care if it was a good idea or not. He wanted her to know how much she turned him on. 

Her inner thighs were pressing against him. He cupped a hand around the back of her head, lacing his fingers into her hair. Her breathing hitched. He said, “I thought to myself that I should have put my hands up your shirt and pulled you down onto my lap.”

While tugging slightly on her hair, he traced his other hand up until his it brushed over her pierced nipple. A small sound escaped her throat, and she shuddered. Back and forth, he delicately smoothed his thumb over the tight bud until a pink flush was blooming across her chest and neck. After pressing a kiss to her jaw, he said, “I’ve been thinking about you ever since. Every time we had lecture, every time we had a meeting, I was picturing you like this.” He took in the sight of her, brown hair cascading over her shoulders, the perfect line of her spine, the slight protruding curve of her exposed lower belly, and he felt his heartbeat pick up again. 

She reached out a hand and grasped the front of his shirt. All she said was, “Take this off.”

And at that, the next several minutes were lost to a haze of flurried movement and agonizing sensation. His shirt disappeared, flung to some random spot on the floor. Her hands haphazardly explored his skin, and he was hyperaware of the way her nails dragged lightly against him. Her breasts pressed into him as he drew her close, and the warmth between her legs surrounded him deliciously. His pants were starting to feel like a lid screwed too tightly onto a jar. 

He moved his hands to the top button of her jeans, and paused to look into her eyes. She nodded at him, chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. 

He unbuttoned and unzipped, then hooked his fingers into the waistband and tugged them down. She rocked her hips so he could get them off, and then Emma was sitting on his desk in nothing but a pair of blue cotton panties. 

She started to lie back on the desk, but he braced a hand against her back to stop her. “Sit. I want to see your face when I put my fingers inside of you.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly, and a blush rose into her cheeks. Jonathan couldn’t believe how turned on he was. He wanted to wind Emma up until she was tight like a coiled spring. 

He pressed the palm of his hand between her legs, closing his eyes as he felt the damp heat through the thin fabric. 

For a second, he rested there, before saying, “Emma, if you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Immediately she shook her head. 

“You want me to keep going?”

She nodded. 

“Say yes.”

In a slightly choked voice, she said, “Yes.”

He pushed the fabric of her underwear to the side with his fingers. Her smooth folds were slick already. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed a finger into her warm depths. 

She moaned, and clutched at his arm. Encouraged, he slid his finger out almost all the way, then pressed it back in, repeating the motion methodically. As he did so, He watched Emma's eyebrows furrowing, her lips parting and wrapping around broken, uncontrolled sounds, her hips rocking forward to meet his thrusts. 

When he felt her relax around him, he pressed another finger inside her. He lightly drew his thumb across her clit, and her muscles clenched. 

“Ah! Jonathan-”

He bent forward to press kisses into her neck. “Yes?”

Her breathing was ragged. “Jonathan, you-you feel-”

He pressed the flat of his tongue onto her nipple, dragging wetness across her skin. He sucked on it before pulling away to say, “What? What do I feel like?”

Her hips rocked forwards, as if of their own accord. He flexed his fingers inside her, reaching for the spot in her lower belly that he knew would drive her crazy. 

She gasped, and he felt her tighten around him, drawing him in. “Oh my god, Jonathan. What-? how did you-? nngh-”

He flexed his fingers again, marveling at how sensitive she was, how she responded so willingly to his touch. “Tell me how you feel, ” he said hoarsely.

“Your hand. I can’t-I feel like-ah!” Her sentence was cut short as he started drawing gentle, tight circles around her clit with his thumb. With a little more force than before, he thrust his fingers into her again. 

“Emma? I didn’t quite catch that.” She opened her eyes to look at him, and he saw a glow in her dark eyes that would be seared into his brain for quite some time. 

“You’re- you’re teasing me. You feel like-” She breathed in sharply as he sank his fingers into her once more.

He grinned, and said, “Well, if you won’t tell me what I feel like, I’ll tell you what you feel like.” He was in a rhythm now, steadily moving in and out of her, relishing the friction between the pads of his fingers against her walls. “You’re so, so warm. And wet, and I can feel how tight you are.” The only response he got was her breathing, the sound of her starting to lose control. 

With his arm, he pulled her closer to the edge of the desk so he could sink his fingers into her even deeper. 

“Agh! Ah, nngh-” Her voice was strained beyond the formation of clear words.

Gently, he pressed his thumb to her swollen clit. He felt her clench inside of him, and he knew she was close to coming undone.

Suddenly, Emma reached down and grabbed his wrist, stopping the motion of his hand. After taking a moment to steady her breathing, she said, “Wait a second. Wait- I don’t-I don’t want to come yet.”

Jonathan, with his fingers still inside her, pressed a kiss directly onto her pierced nipple. “No?”

“Oh-Jonathan, hang on. Do you have condoms in your office?”

He looked at her. Matter of factly, he said, “Yeah, I do. In my bag.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, urgently. Her curls were starting to frizz up, and her skin shone under the fluorescent lights. She squeezed his wrist, and said, “Do you think-do you think we could use one?”

It was all Jonathan could do not to moan out loud as a wave of lust crashed into him. As if aware of the possibility of release, his dick became almost unbearably hard against the stiff zipper of his pants. 

Gently, he withdrew his fingers from inside Emma’s body, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips parted at the sensation. He looked into her eyes and said, “Yes. Anything you want.”

She smiled, and for a moment that was all Jonathan could see. He reached for his bag under the desk, and rummaged around in the innermost pocket.

He pulled out a foil wrapped square, then said, “Do you want to do it? Or should I?”

Almost primly, Emma crossed her legs at the ankle. “I want you to do it.”

Jonathan’s head felt like it was full of electric current, waves of energy humming and building up in a dizzying way. A whole semester of restraint, and it was all coming down to this. 

He unbuttoned the waistband of his pants, pulled down the zipper. The faint sound of the teeth separating was drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. He pulled his pants down just past his hips.

His boxer briefs provided only scant separation between him and Emma now. He paused, and saw that Emma was looking directly at the outline of his dick against the tight fabric. 

He stepped close to her, closing the space between them. Sometimes, he had lamented the fact that his desk was a bit too high, even for a tall man like himself. 

But in this moment, when he saw how their hips aligned perfectly, he was glad he’d never asked to switch it out. 

She looked up into his eyes, chin tilting up to reveal the satin skin of her neck. As he bent down to kiss her throat, he pulled her forwards so that her legs splayed on either side of him, and their hips pressed together tightly. 

As soon as her wet, warm center met his cock, every coherent thought he may have had evaporated from his mind. Even through two layers of fabric, the feeling of her against him had him harder than he had been in a long, long time. Having her fully pressed against him, flush against his body, was better than anything he had imagined. His eyes closed, and he let out a groan. 

Emma placed a hand on his chest, and used the other one to brace herself on the desk. Without warning, she rolled her hips forward. 

Jonathan suppressed a moan. “Emma-you can’t-”

She rocked her hips into him again. “Why not?”

The friction increased the pressure in his lower stomach to a boiling point, and he was struggling to control his breathing. 

He growled, low and deep in his throat and placed his hands on the soft curves of her pelvis right where the edge of her panties were. His thumbs pressed soft divots into her skin, and he said, “Do you want me to open the condom or not?”

She was leaning into him; his torso was the only thing keeping her from falling off the edge of the desk. Her skin was so soft and smooth against his, her curves felt exquisite under his hands. 

“Open it, Jonathan. I’m not doing anything to stop you.” The huskiness in her voice was hot and velvety in his ears. 

He picked the condom up off the desk, tore it open, and hastily discarded the wrapper. He pulled down the waistband of his underwear, finally freeing his erection from the close-fitting fabric. Carefully, he rolled the condom on, trying not to let the sensation of his own fingers push him closer to the edge. 

When it was properly in place, he nestled himself back in between her legs. With one hand, he pushed her underwear to the side, dipping his fingers into her once more. She moaned out loud, and he said, “Are you ready?”

She leaned forwards into him, and said, “Yes. Do it.”

He couldn’t believe that Emma, his ever reliable and diligent TA, was now almost naked sitting on his desk, legs splayed apart, looking at him with an almost feral expression, ready to take him inside. He was never going to be able to look at her again without imagining this in agonizing detail. 

He placed a hand at the base of his cock and slowly guided it towards her entrance. The head met her folds, and he pushed forwards into her carefully.

She was so, so warm, and wet, and soft and pliable all at once. He groaned and said, "Emma, you're unbelievable. I can't believe how tight you feel." He pressed into her halfway, and then withdrew. 

Her face had an indescribable expression on it, she looked like she was atmospheres away from the reality of where she was. 

“Do you want the whole thing?” Jonathan needed to hear her say it. 

“Yes. All of it. Put the whole thing inside me.” She was almost panting as the words fell out of her, eyes half lidded in bliss.

Jonathan didn’t hold back, he couldn’t. He thrust himself into her, until he was buried inside all the way. 

“Oh my god. Jonathan-”

He pulled out, and thrust into her again. Already, the pressure inside him was building to a dangerous level. Having her wrapped around him was a feeling more delectable than anything he could remember. 

“Your voice sounds so pretty when you say my name, Emma.”

He placed his hands under her ass, so he could lift her off the desk slightly. The change in angle sent him in even deeper. Trying to maintain control, he entered her with a slow, methodical rhythm, making sure he was hitting the most tender spot rooted deep inside her, where he knew the pressure of his cock filling her would send shockwaves through her system. 

With each thrust, he could feel her response deep within her body. Each gasp, each breath that escaped her went straight from his ears to the pool of heat coiling up low in his hips.

“Jonathan, this feels amazing. I can’t even-I feel like I’m on another planet.”

Despite everything, Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t string together a response, but he was charmed by her candidness.

The slickness inside her was destabilizing; it was taking everything Jonathan had to stay in control. He felt himself teetering on a precipice, but he knew Emma wasn’t quite there yet. 

He stilled momentarily to gather himself, knowing that if he kept going he wasn’t going to be able to last. While buried inside her, he leaned down and spoke into her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “Will you come for me, Emma? Can you do that?”

She arched her back in response, tilting him deeper into her. She turned her head, nose brushing his cheek. Breathily, she said, “I-I want to. Yes.”

He put his hands on her lower back, hugging her close. She was rocking her hips into his every thrust, and he could feel how much he filled her up, how her innermost muscles caressed and squeezed him from all sides. 

When Jonathan felt like he couldn’t possibly inch himself closer to the edge, her hands came up to clutch at his chest. With her head thrown back, she took in a sharp breath. Urgently, she said, “Jonathan, I’m gonna-I’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Jonathan-nnngh. Oh!”

Feeling his own release building, he pressed into her insistently, feeling her warm walls surrounding him tightly with each thrust.

The weight of her body resting on his hips, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the uncontrolled sounds coming out of her mouth, her inner thighs squeezing him, it became too much all at once. 

Months worth of tension, of sleepless nights and afternoons spent alone in his office, of listening to Emma’s bright laughter and looking at her soft smile burst forth as Jonathan came, hard. As his release rippled through him, he felt the muscles in her core clenching down on him forcefully, with abandon. Her body rolled and arched against him, and the pressure and warmth enveloping every inch of him shattered his inhibition. He groaned at the intensity of the uncontained raw energy that crackled through every nerve ending on his body.

Once all the waves had flowed away and calmed, he pulled out of her. At a loss for words, he just stared at her face as she stared at his. 

Finally, after a protracted silence, she said, “That was crazy.”

Jonathan nodded. He felt like crazy was probably an understatement when it came to describing whatever the hell had just happened. 

Gently, he grasped both of her hands in his. “Are you ok?”

She grinned at him. “Yeah. Yeah I’m great.” Leaning forward, she rested her forehead on his chest. “Thanks for being such a good professor. And thanks for…this.”

He nodded, unsure of exactly what to say. He reached behind her to trace small circles on her back with his fingers. 

After he felt fully grounded in reality again, he stepped back. The fluorescent lights were harsh, draining his surroundings of color, and the breeze from the air conditioning in his office felt slightly grating against his skin. Gently, he said, “It’s getting late, Emma. You should probably get going.”

He picked up her jeans from where they had landed on the ground, and handed them to her. 

Wordlessly, the two of them got dressed, covering up all the parts of themselves that had been so close only a few minutes before. 

Once they were both put back together, Emma slung her backpack onto one shoulder and moved towards the door of his office. She hovered there for a second, and then said, “Have a good break, Jonathan. See you next semester?”

He nodded. “See you next semester.”

She smiled softly, one corner of her mouth curving up more than the other. As she gripped the door handle, Jonathan said, “Emma?”

She turned to face him. “Yeah?”

“Get home safe. “

For a second, she just looked at him. Then, quietly, she said, “I will.”

She walked into the dark hallway, and the door fell closed behind her. 

Jonathan was alone in his office once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Message

To: ea.morgan@norcalu.edu                                                      Cc      Bcc

Subject: Next Semester

Emma,

Due to personal reasons, I have made the decision to choose a different person to TA for DATA1450 next semester. Please do not take this as an indication of any shortcomings regarding your character or performance. You were an excellent TA and a joy to interact with during lecture and meetings. I am more than happy to be a reference should you need a professional recommendation for other job opportunities on or off campus. 

I wish you the best during your final semester. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to email or Slack me, and my office door is always open if you would like to meet in person. 

Have a great rest of your break, a happy holiday season, and a happy new year. 

Keep in touch,

Jonathan Holbrook, Ph.D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[brywrites]

Flight Risk V

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler.  Part V: In which important words are shared in a bookstore and on a plane.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous  |  Next )

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She arrives slightly out of breath to the bookstore-café. “Sorry, it’s really not like me to be late!”

Reid offers her a smile as she jumps into the order line beside him. “It’s okay, I know.”

“Yeeqin locked herself out of the apartment again so I had to run back to open it for her,” she sighs, shaking her head. A soft flush colors her cheeks and he’s not sure whether it’s from running or from embarrassment. Or perhaps she too is as nervous as he is to be meeting here. Because this means stepping over some sort of unspoken line, it means something more real. Whatever it is. Reid still isn’t sure what this is, but he knows that there is something about her smile that makes his chest tighten and that there are few people he looks forward to talking to as much as Y/N.

He realizes that aside from that evening in the hotel lobby, he’s never seen her wearing something other than her pilot’s uniform. She sits before him in a floral-print sundress and a bomber jacket that is ever so slightly askew, exposing the skin of her left shoulder.

“Yeeqin is your roommate?” he asks.

“Yeah. And I love her to bits, but I swear even though I’m the pilot, she’s the one whose head is always in the clouds.” And it strikes him that for someone who loves the sky so much, Y/N is incredibly down-to-earth. “But enough about me,” she laughs. “How are you doing, Doctor?”

Her use of his title always seems to make his heartbeat quicken no matter how many times he tries to ignore it. “I’m good. Really good. It’s, uh, nice to be able to see you without there being a case.”

“It is nice, isn’t it? Knowing that talking with you doesn’t mean someone is in imminent danger. I can feel a lot less guilty about enjoying it.” He wants so badly to ask what she means by that – if she enjoys seeing him the way friends do, or if she enjoys being with him a little bit more than that – but he’s too afraid to know the answer. Afraid it might be less and he’ll feel disappointed. Afraid it might be more and he won’t be – because what is he even hoping for here? What is he supposed to be hoping for, if anything at all?

They order drinks – a mocha with he pours far too much sugar into, and chai latte she carefully sprinkles cinnamon in. They walk through the bookstacks together, drinks in hand, browsing and chatting as they go. She tells him how she fell in love with The Little Prince as a child and how she found the idea of being a pilot fascinating, even then. He tells her about the books his mother used to read to him when he was little, Medieval texts and Proust and The Canterbury Tales.

“That’s pretty intense reading for a kid,” she says.

“Well I can read 20,000 words per minute. And the eidetic memory helps.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Right, our certified genius. You know I’m jealous. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough time to read all the things I want to read. But you? You can read anything you want.”

“These days it’s mostly casefiles,” he says ruefully.

“Good thing we’re here then. We’ll have to find you some lighter words to keep in that beautiful brain of yours.”

It’s so easy with her. He finds himself telling her about his mother, about how she used to be a professor of literature until her disease got worse. And when he explains she has schizophrenia, she doesn’t give him a look of pity. As if he’s broken somehow. Her eyes soften and she says, “It has to be hard, caring for a parent. You must love her a lot. And I’m sure she’s really proud to have a son like you to carry on all her best stories.”

She tells him how her parents weren’t exactly thrilled with her choice of career, but how she’s certain there’s nothing else that would make her as happy as flying, and how for two months after she moved to DC her only friends in the city were her cat, Amelia, and Yeeqin because she traveled too much for work to put down roots. “I guess at some point you have to decide whether you want adventure or stability, and I think I’m always trying to walk that line. I’m not ready to give up what I love, but I don’t want to let everything else in life pass me by, you know?”

And he does. He knows that the longer he’s at the BAU the more unlikely it is he’ll have the time to teach, to build a family, to pursue other dreams. But at the same time there’s something about the work he just doesn’t know how to step away from.

They sit in chairs in the travel section while she opens a book of maps to point out some of her favorite places she’s flown to, and the places she still wants to go. “Every year I tell myself I’ll find a way to get to Iceland or South Africa, and every year they seem to pass me by.”

“Did you know that Iceland was the last place on earth to be settled by humans? I mean, the last to be permanently settled, when it was accidentally discovered by Vikings.”

“I had no idea,” she says, and something about her smile makes him want to tell her more.

“It’s also an incredibly literary country. Statistically, one in ten Icelanders will publish a book in their lifetime, and books are such popular gifts that many are published right before Christmas. There’s actually a term for it, in Icelandic, jólabókafló∂, the ‘Christmas book flood.’”

She laughs and for a second Reid wonders if he’s rambled too much, but she says, “How on earth do you know that?” and he relaxes.

“Just reading a lot. I… like knowing things.” Anything could be useful in the field, at any time. Or in a bookstore, in the company of a woman whose smile feels like a prize he just wants to keep earning.

“Do you ever want to go there?”

“I don’t know. I never really travelled much before the BAU. Actually the first flight I took was to DC for a job interview. I was terrified so I read three different handbooks on aviation and aerodynamics just so I could feel more comfortable. Understanding it helped me to feel less scared. And now I fly so much I don’t really even think about it.”

Y/N closes the book and puts it back on the shelf. “One of these days we’ve got to get you on a plane for pleasure rather than business,” she says.

They stand together in the checkout line, Y/N with a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and Reid with a copy of Wind, Sand, and Stars which came highly recommended by her. As they step outside, the sky opens into a downpour. He grimaces, already searching in his bag for his umbrella, but looks up to see her standing beyond the awning, arms outstretched, wearing a grin as the rain hits her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

She spins a circle. “Dancing in the rain,” she laughs. “I love the rain, but I don’t really get to enjoy it when I’m flying because it makes it so much more stressful. I’ve got to focus on what I’m doing. But on the ground I can just let it be. And appreciate the gray sky and the sound of the rain.” She steps back under the awning to join him. “But it will be a damp walk home without my umbrella. I totally forgot it at home.”

“I have one,” he says, and then adds, without thinking, “I could walk you home.” She raises her eyebrows and he worries he’s stepped over that invisible line. “I mean, if it’s not too far and you don’t mind, but I also don’t have to I just thought maybe-”

“I’d love that,” she says. “Thanks, Reid.” And so he opens his umbrella and she squeezes close to him beneath it. They walk the few blocks to her apartment, and all the while he is keenly aware of her elbow against his and her shoulder brushing his arm. And he doesn’t mind one bit. All too soon they reach the steps of her building and he’s not quite ready to say goodbye and end this magical moment where there is no danger and no impending departure and no work to be done. Just the two of them and stories shared and all the words they could want as the rain falls around them. So close under the umbrella, she looks up at him, as if she’s trying to find just the rights words and he can’t help but be distracted by the way her jacket is falling off her shoulder again and how it looks so lovely in a way he can’t quite make sense of and he’s thinking that maybe if he took just another step closer they’d be able to fill this silence with something –

But then the silence is broken by the abrupt sound of a window opening followed by someone shouting, “Y/N!”

They step apart, startled, and glance up at the gray sky. From the second story, a pale woman with sleek black hair pokes her head out of a window. A trail of smoke exits the open window, mingling with the rain. “Thank goodness you’re back! I burned the chicken, so we’re gonna have to order out for dinner!”

Y/N sighs. “That would be Yeeqin,” she says. Then raising her voice to call back up she says, “Give me just a minute and we can figure out carryout!”

“Hey is that the FBI guy you were t-”

“I’ll be right there!” Y/N yells. The window closes, and she turns back to him, looking a little more flustered. The moment is gone. “I should get up there before she burns the apartment down.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“This was really nice though.” She makes no move to leave.

“Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that, Reid.”

And his last name sounds so formal. He doesn’t want formal, not with her. “Uh, you can – you can call me Spencer, you know.” They stand there for just a beat and he wants so badly to reach out for her hand. But he doesn’t.

Then she says, “I’ll see you soon, Spencer.” Y/N walks into her apartment, and he’s still replaying the sound of her voice saying his name in his mind, so focused on trying to commit this whole afternoon to memory that it takes him two blocks of walking before he realizes he’s going the wrong way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’re waiting for Kate and Morgan to arrive, but the rest of the team is already anxious. She and Arthur can hear them talking as they prepare the cockpit.

“All I’m saying is given the reports, I just don’t know if flying is the safest way to get there,” Rossi says.

“It’s the only way we’re getting all the way to Colorado in time,” Hotch responds.

“We are a pretty small plane though, and whatever happened took down a large passenger plane,” JJ counters. “What if this is a terrorist attack?” Beside her Arthur tenses, but he says nothing.

Rossi says, “On 9/11 we grounded flights to be safe. How do we know this won’t happen again?” Arthur hastily puts on his headphones and busies himself with the controls.

“We just have to hope.”

Y/N knows it’s not her place, but their conversation is clearly unnerving Arthur. She can’t just stand by while her friend and captain is uncomfortable. Before he can stop her, she steps into the cabin where the BAU sits.

“You can do more than hope,” she says. The gathered faces turn to look at her. “I don’t mean to be out of line, Agent Rossi, but I overheard your concerns. Captain Dobson and I are good at what we do. And he’s one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. I know this can be scary but I promise that you’re in good hands with us. You trust your team with your lives because you trust them to do a good job. I’m asking that you do the same for us. We may not be a part of the team, but we always get you home safe. This is our job, and we do it well.”

“Of course you’re a part of the team,” Spencer says. Everyone’s gaze flickers to him, but he’s looking right at her. The air feels warmer with those hazel eyes focused on her. “You’re with us for every case. And you’re right. You’ve always kept us safe. We need to trust them,” he adds, glancing at the rest of his team.

“I’m sorry,” Rossi says. “I didn’t mean to insult either of you.”

“No offense taken,” she says. But she wants to be sure any tension is cleared from the air. “But uh, for what it’s worth we’ve restocked the whisky in the minibar if that’ll help you feel a little more relaxed on today’s flight.” The older agent gives her a smile, and she knows all is well. She steals once last glance at Spencer, hoping she can read the gratitude in her eyes, before ducking back into the cockpit. Soon enough the rest of the team arrives. Some quick communication with the tower, and Geff is up in the air again. They fly in silence through the clear blue sky, and it’s not until they’ve reached cruising altitude that Arthur speaks.

“I was flying that day.” Y/N glances at him. She doesn’t have to ask him to specify the date. She simply waits for him to continue. “I flew for United back then. I was a first officer. We were flying from London to Newark and halfway across the Atlantic someone called in over air-to-air telling us there had been a terrorist attack. Next thing we knew we were receiving orders to land in Canada. This tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Gander. There were 37 other planes on the tarmac. We sat there for 12 hours while the RCMP inspected every jet before we could deplane. And we had to tell the passengers what happened. We were there for five days. They said we doubled the population of the town.”

“What was it like?” she asks.

“We were terrified. We had no idea if our plane was at risk of being hijacked. We hardly knew what was happening or why. And we had to try to keep 200 passengers calm. Not to mention there was no way to know if any of our friends had been flying the planes that were used. But it was strange,” he says staring out at the sky. “Despite all of that fear and grief, we were surrounded by some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. They fed us, housed us, gave us clothes. They brought us out to pubs and held dinners and parties and did everything they could to make us feel welcome. Seven thousand strangers from around the world, and this little town never hesitated to help us and never asked for anything in return. It was incredible.

“It was actually a little sad to say goodbye. But when we finally flew back into Newark we saw the devastation. Ground Zero was still burning. It was awful. People had flyers up for loved ones they hadn’t heard from. And for a while, people stopped flying. Everyone was too scared to be in the air.” She remembered being in college at the time. The shock and the sorrow. The anger – the day her friend went to her work-study job at the library and found her desk defaced with Islamophobic hate speech. And the fear that seemed almost palpable. Students afraid to fly home for the holidays or to travel abroad. Flying had always seemed so magical, but suddenly a plane had become a weapon.

“My friend was the first officer on Flight 93. We were close. And I know he would have done anything to protect that plane and its passengers. I know all of those pilots would have. Any pilot would. It’s our job. That day always reminds me of the friend I lost. And the moment that someone turned the pure joy of flying into something dangerous. But at the same time, I’ll always remember the kindness that Gander gave us when we needed it most.”

She tries to picture the Captain stranded in Gander, surrounded by kind Newfoundlanders in plaid, waiting for a world that has stopped turning to begin again. It’s impossible to imagine what he must have felt. But she’s grateful he’s willing to tell her about it.

“You’re impulsive, Y/L/N,” Dobson continues. She flinches, startled by the sudden change of subject and the words he’s chosen. “Speaking to Agent Rossi like that was out of line. But you did it out of kindness. I want to thank you for that.”

“What?” What she did earlier is exactly the sort of thing he would usually reprimand her for or lecture her about. But he doesn’t at all seem disappointed in her.

“You need to think things through,” he concedes, “but I know you don’t take such actions out of pride or spite. You do it because your heart is in the right place. You’re kind. And that’s a very good thing to be.” He clears his throat. “Although I do wish you’d let your head take the lead more often.”

She smiles. “Thank you, sir.” The sky is clear all around them. Their passengers in the back are quiet. However scary the world may be, this moment in this plane, flying up there still feels magical.

After a pause, Arthur says, “Betty White and Rebecca Black.” And the soul-baring has passed. Another one of their in-flight verbal games is afoot. People who should be arch-nemeses but aren’t.

“Freddie Mercury and Bruno Mars,” she counters.

“Vivienne Westwood and Clint Eastwood.”

It takes her several minutes to come up with, “Ken Burns and John Waters.”

“Damn, that’s good,” Arthur says. And so they pass the rest of the flight attempting to find all the pairs they can. Soon enough they’re landing at Durango La-Plata’s small county airport. The team deplanes and she and Arthur go about cleaning the cockpit and cabin. They grab their own respective go-bags and say farewell to Geff. It surprises her however, to see that the team is still there, evidently waiting for Bureau SUVs to arrive judging by the way Hotch keeps looking towards the road. But Spencer is standing away from the rest of the group, bouncing on the soles of his feet near the jet stairs. Dobson gives her a glance, eyebrows raised, and says he’ll meet her at the door to catch a cab together.

“Hey,” Spencer says.

“Hey, yourself.” She pulls her go-bag up on her shoulder, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. The cool Colorado air has her grateful to be wearing a blazer. “Um, I wanted to thank you,” she tells him. “For what you said earlier. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m happy you stood up for us.”

Spencer rubs the back of his neck. “Of course. And I meant what I said. You and Captain Dobson are a part of this team. I know we don’t always show it, but we’re really grateful for both of you. I just want you to know that we notice. And we care. I care.”

There is an unspoken weight to those two words that hangs between them as she meets his eyes. She wants to ask him exactly what he means by that – exactly how much he cares and whom for and in what way. But before she can, Morgan calls for Spencer to join them. Two black SUVs are ready to take them away.

“I’d better go,” he says.

“I know. Be safe out there, Doctor.”

“I will. You, too. I’ll see you soon.” And then he’s gone. She joins Arthur on the curbside and moments later they’re climbing into a taxi together. Arthur is on the phone with his boyfriend to let him know they’ve landed safely. Y/N stares out the window at the tall trees and the clear sky and thinks that ‘soon’ can’t possibly come soon enough.

[fenweak]

As requested! This rec list features Kazer Kid Fics -- Jonny and Patrick both with kids and babies AND as kids and babies, with a small dash of de-aging and a spoonful of mpreg. 

⭐ for my personal faves

My Other Rec Lists 🍭 Rec me a fic? 🍭

The Ones Where They Have Kids

No Capes by sorrylatenew ⭐ - j/p as parents; implied mpreg

Husbands. Dads. Retired superheroes.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews + timestamp by jezziejay - single dad Patrick, teacher Jonny  ⭐

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

trust your intuition (it's just like goin' fishin') by poeelektra - 1988 as parents

They’re on the periphery of the Home Wares section of Target, heading with purposeful stride toward Sporting Goods, when Gabe declares that he wants a doll for his “Been Good” toy.

Every Little Thing He Does (is magic) by jezziejay - single dad Patrick

Jonny Toews is a bewitching man who moves into a mysterious mansion in a small town. Soon, he opens Bell, Book & Candle, a curiosity shop full of candles, lotions, etc., and is enthralling the children of local police chief (Patrick Kane), who believe he is a witch (but not a bad one.) But not everyone in town is appreciative of their quirky new neighbor, and it may take a little bit of magic for him to truly become part of the community.

Under Cover by heartstrings - 1988 as parents

"Just get in the fucking blanket fort, Kaner."

Feels Like Family To Me + prequels by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane plan, create, and obtain their family.

living next door to alice series by cinderlily - 1988 as parents

"It started with a phone call."Patrick and Jonny are suddenly given the opportunity to be parents. This is how they stumble through it.

some say love is a burning thing podfic by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

If anyone had told Johnny upon entering the NHL that thirteen years later he'd not only have a kid with Patrick Kane, but would be getting ready to go on a 'date night,’ he'd have said they must be smoking some pretty good shit.And then he'd have to wait a decade to eat his words.

In the Middle of the Night - 1988 as parents

Gone are the days when it took a cold, wet washcloth on his face to wake him up. Or: Five times Pat and Jonny's daughter wakes them up, plus one time they wake her up.

so show me family - single dad Patrick

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard

Fill It Up With Love by Frosting50 - single dad Pat; implied mpreg

So Pat’s senior year doesn’t turn out exactly like he’d planned. He still gets his degree in accounting, but he also gets a little girl named Emma. She’s all fat pink cheeks, curly brown hair, and blue eyes. She might have Ryan’s chin, but she’s all Pat’s. And the first time she falls asleep on his chest, chubby hand curled around his thumb, skin so soft and sweet he damn-near feels bowled over with how much he loves her. He didn’t know he could love anyone so much; it makes his heart feel too big for his chest, and he knows that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to give her the world.

peas & carrots by altri_uccelli - 1988 as parents

Unapologetic Halloween fluff, or: Jonny forgets what day it is, but Kaner's on it.

Can You Lyft Me Up? by Mullsandmutts - single dad Patrick

Even high profile athletes like Chicago Blackhawks Captain Jonathan Toews are forced to utilize paid transportation from time to time. An accidental "share my ride" selection on an app results in a life-altering ride with an mouthy Russian driver (Artemi), an unfairly attractive single father (Patrick Kane) and his adorable sassy (and color-matching-challenged) preschool daughter (introducing Molly Donna Patricia Amelia Kane aka Mo). Jonathan refuses to feel too sketch when he negotiates a plan with the driver to "accidentally" have more shared rides with his new friends. When Mo has a traumatic incident at day camp, Patrick's heart is broken and Jonny enlists the help of Temi and the ever-meddling Patrick Sharp to get smiles back on both Kane faces. Jonathan finds himself more and more drawn to Patrick but Patrick's fears of being a good enough parent for Mo and meeting all of her needs could keep them apart. Will Temi, the Sharp family and a trio of nosy aunts in Buffalo be enough to help Jonathan and Patrick realize what they could have together or will Patrick's stubbornness and Jonathan's fear of ruining their friendship keep them apart? Stay tuned to find out ....

Three by Linsky - i won’t spoil it 

Patrick doesn’t think he’s a pervert. But how would he know? Maybe a pervert is just a thing you are, and it doesn’t feel any different from being a normal person, until you do something perverted. Maybe that’s him.After all, he does have two names on his wrist.

All Your Memories by toewsandconfused - 1988 as parents; amnesiafic

Pat went to sleep a bachelor in the Trump Towers and woke up next to Jonny in the suburbs with three kids calling him Daddy. Struggling to figure out his new reality Patrick had ruled out dream, was banking on delusion because even though it meant he was losing his mind, it seemed safer than some kind of late-onset amnesia. He didn’t want to face that idea that this really was his life; that Jonny was his, that those beautiful kids were his, and he couldn’t remember any of it. The idea that the memories of their life together could be lost forever was too terrifying to deal with. Losing his mind was preferable to losing his memories.

Chelsea, Chelsea I Believe by empathapathique - single dad Pat ⭐

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't Let Go by aohatsu - 1988 as adoptive parents

“So you were already with the boy you saved when the fire started?”Patrick pauses, but shakes his head. “No, there was an explosion—I don’t really know what it was, but then it was just me and Tigre, and it’s like, in a situation like that, you don’t really think? You just do. So I grabbed the kid and went through the fire escape. It’s not like I decided I wanted to save anybody, it was just the only option.”

Always Be My Baby by juliusschmidt - single dad Patrick

The thing is, you don’t just grow up once.

as careless as you are certain - single dad Patrick 

March through August, 2015.

the one with the baby yentas series by forochel

Tazer has a son and Kaner is his son's kindergarten teacher.

It's the Magic of Risking Everything by conformityissuicide - single dad Jonny

When Jonny is thirteen he meets a small kid from Buffalo at a hockey tournament.

Then he has a gay crisis, a baby girl, and gets drafted 3rd overall by an Original Six franchise.

When he meets Patrick Kane again at prospect camp he doesn’t feel anything but excitement.

And then it all goes to hell.

"of gifts and fireflies" by huntersandangels - single dad Jon

Patrick Kane hasn’t lived a charmed life despite money flowing through his veins. The journey he is currently on, though paved with good intentions, proves to be a harder challenge than he could ever be ready for. The people he meets along the way give him a much more valued gift than his grandfather could ever dream of giving him. 

I'm gonna love you til my lungs give out by arenadomatthews - 1988 as parents

“Papa, Dad, you guys are retiring today?” Bryan asks, looking up at his parents.“Yeah buddy, we are. Are you gonna behave while Dad and I are doing our press conference?” Patrick asks.

“Duh, Dad. I'm not a baby anymore,” he scoffs.

“He's right, Pat. He's our big boy now,” Jonny adds.

“Yeah, I'm going into 4th grade,” Bryan boasts pridefully.Patrick and Jonathan are finally announcing their retirement after 20 NHL seasons. However, their retirement ceremony will come with a twist: they'll be publicly coming out and revealing their family

Your Daddy's Aim Is True by thefourthvine; podfic by isweedan - cup wish baby! ⭐

patch it up by gasmsinc - 1988 as parents

Jonny stares at his daughter for a long moment. She stares back, eyes unwavering. She has Kaner’s baby blues, but at five she’s already mastered Jonny’s dead on the inside stare. Her kindergarten teacher claims she uses the unwavering look to bully other students into doing what she wants, and it’s something they should work on at home, but Jonny’s baby is a natural born leader, and he’s not going to get in her way of becoming the president, or, better yet, the supreme ruler of the universe.

Your patch,” says Jonny.

Baby, It's Hot Outside by toewsyourheart - single dad Pat 

 Jonny goes for a popsicle and gets a little bit more than he bargained for.

Take All That's Left - divorced single dad Pat

It’s been 6 years now, and he’s grown to enjoy the city since signing with the Rangers to follow Anna, who’d found a job in Brooklyn.

But Chicago; Chicago was Patrick’s first love, all his important firsts – it’s all been hers, and having to leave had been heartbreaking. Too many memories from Chicago were heartbreaking, and yet he always yearned for the city, always felt more comfortable walking her streets than any other place in the world. No other place quite felt like home the way Chicago did.

Isn’t She Lovely by windsthatwhisper + podfic by kanetcews (lavenderharry) - wish baby!

It's nine in the morning when Pat and Jonny stumble down the stairs, sluggish with sleep.

There’s a baby carrier on the kitchen island.

Jonny blinks, blinks again, then turns to get a cup of coffee.

Recreation, Entertainment, Art, or Sport by trademarkgiggle

of course jonathan toews can juggle

so show me family series by peeks, tazer - teacher Pat

“Just admit you like him.”

“Shut up, Sharpy,” Patrick says, before he rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the smirk widening on Sharpy’s lips. “Don’t you have your kids’ parents to bother?”

“No, my last kid left a couple minutes ago, so I’m totally here to watch you and Jonathan Toews make heart eyes at each other,” Sharpy laughs, waltzing into Patrick’s classroom. He immediately makes his way to see Sadie, who greets her dad with a hug.

(In which Patrick Kane is terrible at feelings but luckily, Patrick Sharp is a total bro.)

The Ones Where They’re With Kids

In My Blood and In My Bones + Nothing Sweet or Gentle by fourfreedoms ⭐

Patrick’s not really into dudes—he’s done that whole thing a couple of times—that’s rock-n-roll after all, but god, when Jonathan smiles, he looks really good.Johnny is a nanny. Patrick's a musician. They fall in love. Inspired by the movie What Maisie Knew.

the kids are alright

Patrick works at the sporting goods store Jonny takes his peewee team to for equipment.

given to us as free-flying souls by Mayhem10

Jonathan had never really considered himself particularly good with kids. He didn’t avoid them or anything and it’s not like they burst into tears when they saw his face, but he never was exactly sure what to do with them, these little people running around at waist height. It just wasn’t his area.So, of course, Patrick was basically the child whisperer.

(or five times Jonathan saw Patrick with kids and one time Patrick saw him)

Hide Your Face So The World Will Never Find You (Paper Faces On Parade) by huntersandangels

Jonathan Toews, farm owner and guardian of his nephew, is in desperate need of capable farm hands. Patrick Kane certainly does not fit the description but when a mutual friend confides in him that Patrick has lost everything he owned and is in serious need himself and offers Jonathan money to hire him, how can he say no?

Patrick Kane loves statistics and spending his money on thoroughly planned ‘adventures’ for his friends when he’s not partying away the rest of his fortune. If he wins the bet he can continue to plot freely but if he loses his extra curriculum activities have to stop. He agrees to go on an ‘adventure’ himself and settles in the Toews Farm posing as a farm hand. But as the time goes by, the less pretend it feels-and the more he enjoys Jonathan and Etienne’s company and the quite life in the farm; to the point where he’s not sure whether he wants to win the bet or lose...

Baby, You're the One by jezziejay ⭐

6k words of Jonathan Toews having feelings about babies. And feelings about Kaner. And feelings about putting a baby in Kaner.

The Ones Where They Are Kids

The Cat and the Fiddle series by james - childhood soulmates!

When Donna's son is four, he creates an imaginary friend.

i want to know what you know by sointimate - childhood sweethearts

Patrick is six years old and he's about to do the scariest thing he's ever done in his whole life.

Colorblind by july_v ⭐

Jon is five when he meets Patrick. It's also the time he begins to understand colors as more than an abstract concept.

How to become a man  series+ coda by liketheroad, mockturtletale

In which Kaner gets spontaneously de-aged into a six-year-old, and he and Tazer both have a lot of growing up to do.

Romper Room by james - de-aged 1988

Sharpie doesn't really think this should be part of his duty as alternate captain. Luckily, none of this is his fault. A.K.A., the one where Kaner and Johnny are five.

you ruined everything in the best way by thisissirius + podfic by exmanhater .⭐ - de-aged Saader

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?

"The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?

"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"

"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

don't worry about your body - de-aged Jonny

No one said anything. Everyone stared at each other then down at the tiny human being that was standing where Jonny had been. Kaner felt his mouth go entirely dry, and his stomach drop out from underneath him.

What the fuck, man.

Can You Picture It? by RemyJane

In which Kaner turns into a baby and everyone besides Jonny seems to understand. Includes excessive cuddling, ridiculously adorable baby-Kaner, and feelings. Jonny eventually figures everything out.

Never Getting That Shirt Back by ice_hot_13 - de-aged Pat

Patrick is de-aged into a toddler, and when he's with Jonny, he isn't a holy terror.

Je T'aime by banks99 (Nodiggity15) - de-aged Jonny

“He won’t take a bath. He’s arguing with me. It’s like he didn’t even change at all.” Kaner’s not pouting, fuck you very much.

MPREG

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn ⭐ -mpreg!pat

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

private passions and secret storms (all the secrets series) by CoffeeKristin, Frosting50  - mpreg!pat

Jonny’s life is good - great even. He loves Patrick and their kids, and even if they don’t always have time for each other, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. But when Jeff Carter comes into his life, Jonny’s world gets turned upside down. It’s going to take everything he’s got to convince Patrick to give him a second - maybe even a third - chance.

Patrick’s blindsided by Jonny’s betrayal and putting his family back together is a lot harder than he expected when their past comes back to haunt them.Can love conquer all?

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Aka, I wanted some 1988 w/ a baby feels so I wrote this blurb of a thing in about seven minutes.

efficacy by thirteentorafters - mpreg!patrick

“You,” Patrick says, jabbing a finger angrily at Jonny. “Are gonna fucking help me, dickface.”

Opening his mouth to ask what the hell is going on; Jonny’s eyes drop to Patrick’s stomach. Jonny is acquainted with Patrick’s naked body and the last time they met, Patrick wasn’t fat. Or paunchy. Except that doesn’t look like usual fat. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, ‘oh fuck’,” Patrick says, imitating Jonny’s tone. “You knocked me up, asshole. What are you gonna do about it?”

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Looked So Fine (I Just Had To Speak) by svmadelyn - !!!! ⭐

Patrick Kane’s talking penis maintains a ‘to do’ list. It is as follows:1. Jonathan Toews

Phone Tag by hawkeytime (jayyloo) - mpreg!Jonny

"Hi mom. Sorry I couldn’t catch you, so I guess I’ll just, uh.. leave a message. See, the thing is… my super-potent sperm may or may not have managed to knock Jonny up. Okay bye."

"Yes, hello, is this Hockey Canada? I just want it written on the record, today, June 31, 2015, that my incredibly improbable unborn child with Jonathan Toews will be playing for America. Yes, I’ll hold.

"Or: Pat accidentally knocks Jonny up. A saga told in a series of voicemails

A Royal Baby - mpreg!Pat

A cough from the doorway cuts Seabs off mid sentence. Duncs is standing watching them, a particularly somber expression on his face. "Jonny, I'm sorry to interrupt but you have a visitor that you'll want to go see right away.""Now really isn't a good time," Jonny tells him, not even putting down his fork."Trust me Your Highness," Duncs says, "This will be worth it."

[Patrick and Jonathan think their time brief time together at the Olympics is all they can ever have. Patrick's ensuing pregnancy proves otherwise.]

sun sweet berries of the earth series by gasmsinc - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

There is a spirit living in Patrick State Park.“Listen,” says Jonny. “I didn’t mean to step on your crown.”The spirit’s bottom lip wobbles.

Tame the Roads That Can't Be Tamed by Linsky - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

Patrick’s flown a million times. He’s never gotten airsick before. Even on last year’s epic flight to Denver, when they hit massive turbulence and half the team was groaning over barf bags, Patrick’s stomach was fine. And maybe he’s sick, sure—but why doesn’t he feel sick the rest of the time? Why is it only mornings and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh fucking no.

(Or: In which it is difficult to be a wolf in the NHL, especially when you're not that good at condoms.)

Carve His Name With Pride ⭐  - mpreg!Jonny

Jonny leaves behind a home, a house, and a hockey career the month after he learns that he’s pregnant.

Eyass - mpreg!Jonny

"I dunno," Kaner tells him. "Whatever you need, man. You’re having a baby! That’s a lot of work. I want to be here for you."

Somehow, in the dozens of conversations he’s had with teammates and friends and family in the past few days, no one has said those exact words to Jonny: “you’re having a baby”. He has to comb his fingers through his hair and take a deep, steadying breath to compose himself.

Kaner notices and smiles at him; a crooked, beautiful thing. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Heartburn and Survival by dedougal  - mpreg!Jonny

They were in Canada when Jonny found out he was pregnant. Afterwards, Jonny used that as a point in his bulleted list of arguments about why Jack should represent Canada but, to be entirely truthful, finding out in Canada - finding out anywhere - was pretty disastrous.

Three Cups and a Pup by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume  - mpreg!Patrick

The Story of Alpha Jonny and Omega Kaner getting their shit together and learning how to be Adulting Adults (Finally)

Chips and Cribs by whatislife - mpreg!Jonny

“What do you mean there are no chips,” Jonny asks from where he is standing by the island, hand resting on his stomach. “Weren’t they on the list? Did you not buy them?”(Patrick just wants to sleep.)

[crosbytoews]

hockey rpf fic rec

this is an assortment of all the hockey rpf i have bookmarked. it is organized by pairing. if any of this is not your thing that’s valid but i don’t wanna hear it 

these fics are posted on ao3 and most of them are locked so you will need an ao3 account to access them!

obviously i like everything on here but i bolded the urls of my absolute faves

JAMIE BENN/TYLER SEGUIN

Look at the wonderful mess that we made by sherlockelly

A name-on-wrist soulmate AU where being outed by a same-sex name is still newsworthy if you're in professional sports and is a very real concern for some NHL players. Despite the shifting attitudes, no one in the sport has ever come out publicly.

Tyler has always felt relieved that 'Jamie' could be a male or female name, it makes hiding his sexuality a lot easier. Jamie's not been so lucky.

Door to Door by Ferritin4

"Hey," Jamie says, pounding on the door. "Hey, open up!"

The dogs shut up.

"Hi, shit, sorry," says the stupidly fucking gorgeous man who opens the door in a tank top and boxers. "Shit, were the dogs loud? They get really excited when I come home."

"It’s three in the morning," Jamie says. On cue, a dog pokes its head around the corner to the entryway and bounces over to the — to this guy. It’s followed by another, browner dog, and Jamie has a moment of surrealist sleep-deprived horror where he imagines an infinite string of dogs forever bounding gleefully towards —

"I work two jobs. I’m Tyler," Tyler says, extending his hand. "Do you want to come in?"

Well, he’s not doing anything illegal, Jamie thinks, shaking it, because no criminal in the history of crime has ever willingly invited a cop into their house, and there is no one in the city of Dallas who hasn’t pegged Jamie as a cop within six seconds of meeting him.

Stating the Obvious by StormDancer

In which Tyler transfers to Dallas, makes some friends, and has emotions, none of which he's prepared to deal with.

Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

King and Lionheart by thehoyden

Sidney’s wedding day doesn’t go quite as he’d planned. When he’d bothered to imagine it at all, he’d thought of a nice June wedding in Nova Scotia, outdoors with the sun streaming down. He hadn’t imagined this hurried affair on the tarmac on a rainy and unseasonably cool day in early September, a month after his twenty-fifth birthday.

And Never Been Kissed by thehoyden

Sid didn’t introduce himself in the hallway, and he certainly doesn’t assume that people know who he is. So it would only be polite to thank Malkin again, this time more personally.

He could write him a letter. An email? No, a letter.

There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe by Shoshanah-ben-hohim

Amidst rising political tensions between Russia and NATO countries, the KHL and NHL failed to renew their labor agreement this summer. Due to the failed agreement and intense political pressure at home, the Russian NHL players do not return to the NHL.

By March, Geno has played almost a season in Russia, and accepts this is his new reality, no matter how much he misses Sid – until he finds the first child. This sets him and everyone he involves down a dangerous path of international intrigue.

Auston Matthews/Mitch Marner

as long as it's about me by Anonymous 

It takes about the length of their first practice for Toronto media to decide that him and Mitch are best friends. And, like, Auston’s been warned about the press in the city a million times, so he gets it. They want a story. He’d be fine with it, honestly, except for the small issue that Mitch Marner is the most annoying person on the entire planet.

I Never Thought He Wouldn't by MycroftexMachina

Mitch loves people. And usually people love him back. Usually.

we've got each other (and that's a lot) by LottieAnna

“I’m gonna be a groomsman,” Mitch says, then flops dramatically into the chair across from Auston, grabs Auston’s glass of whiskey, and takes a long sip. It burns as it goes down, and he makes a face. “Again.”

JONATHAN TOEWS/PATRICK KANE

don't taze me, bro by staraflur

He doesn’t think Zeus is supposed to have a sword, but their Zeus does. So now Jonny does, because of course he’s in charge. He looks, Patrick is drunk enough to acknowledge, far better than anyone has a right to in a grody old Halloween costume that’s probably soaked up the butt sweat of dozens, if not hundreds, of Theta-presidents past. Jonny wears it, Patrick gets the sword. Win-win.

AKA that time there was a frat AU (of course).

Same Time, Same Place by brutti_ma_buoni

It should be a one-off, an awkward airport first meeting that goes nowhere. But this one goes somewhere. Back to Jonny's, for a start.

It shouldn't go any further, a one-nighter with no strings, and plenty of reasons for Patrick not to go back there. But Patrick won't let it go.

It should be a disaster, a mismatch, a scandal, a shoddy secret regret. But... maybe not?

bring it if you really want it by staraflur

It starts like this:

Well, okay, Patrick has no idea how it actually starts. But as pertains to him (in other words, the important part), it goes a little something like so:

America, being a nation composed in large part of a melting pot of immigrants who may or may not have taken over land already owned by others using less-than-savory means, doesn’t have much of a magical national identity. Much less a magical continental identity. There’s no grand heritage going back thousands of years. Magical families home-schooled all their kids until, like, the 1800’s, and tough for the muggle-born, apparently. Hopefully you got noticed by someone who knew what to do with you before you got burned at the stake. Since you probably can’t control your powers, sport.

Call Me Royal Blue by cupstealer 

He’s always gotten his kicks giving Jonny shit, but never like this. He feels like the first person to combine ice cream and soda—A) in that he has combined two amazing things to make a more amazing thing, and B) in that Jonny is not having it.

Patrick and Jonny haven't been close friends in six years. Nothing a little friendly competition can't fix.

Random Pairings 

Jeff Skinner/Eric Staal

If Heaven’s Hypothetical by impertinence and shoemaster 

Jeff runs away from Toronto and finds himself homeless in Raleigh, where he accidentally starts serving eggs to Eric Staal.

Andrew Ladd/Ryan Kesler

Nothing Worth Knowing by beatperfume and shoemaster

Ryan Kesler hates Andrew Ladd on sight. College AU.

Erik Johnson/Gabriel Landeskog 

A Month of Sundays by Kelfin

Unlike some guys, who freak out when things get even a little bit gay, Erik is fine with this stuff. Erik's not even fazed when Gabe's attempts at flirting with him start to get semi-public, a fact that, by his own judgment, makes him at least five to seven times more tolerant than your average forward-thinking American.

Sidney Crosby/Claude Giroux 

The Battle of Pennsylvania by Robinjay

When they play at Worlds together, Claude Giroux firmly expects a fight to break out. At the very least, he expects derogatory remarks and barely contained fury. Instead of doing any of those things, Sidney Crosby just stares and Claude Giroux loses his damn mind.

In Hours Uncounted by remiges

Claude's grandparents take him to get his first name when he's ten—younger than most people start, but older than his grandparents when they'd had theirs done. His grandmother's skin is threaded red and gold with names, and Claude wants that, wants that sort of history for his own.

Sidney Crosby/Tyler Seguin

All New Kinds of Weather by concinnity and Pennyplainknits

Sidney Crosby, Tyler realizes, has just asked him about hooking up. Sidney fucking Crosby. Tyler blinks at Sid and takes a long drink of water. He has possibly never been as grateful for his slutty reputation as he is in this moment. Because, out of a whole room at least 30% of which would happily give Sid what he’d just, hesitantly, asked for, Sid chose him.

Also there are pancakes.

Alex Galchenyuk/Brendan Gallagher 

ain't never had a love like mine by bluejayys

Anna installs Grindr on his phone while he drives them back to his place, snickering as she fills out his profile.

“In your About Me section I said that you enjoy hockey, can speak three languages, and have been commended by fans for your excellent stick handling,” she says gleefully. Alex wonders when this became his life.

Brent Seabrook/Duncan Keith

Summerboys by stlkrchck

Brent Seabrook has no interest in working at Camp Quaquanantuck the summer before university. Unfortunately, his mom's signed him up, and he has to go. But between a cabin full of campers obsessed with Lady Gaga, a prank war with two other cabins, and his co-counselor Duncan Keith, Brent might just find himself enjoying the summer after all.

Tyson Barrie/Gabriel Landeskog 

Left-Handed Kisses by oflights

The one where Tyson's fooling around with Gabe, already way out of his league, and then finds out he's apparently fooling around with a prince. And he might be a little bit in love with him. It's pretty brutal.

[beingallelite]

Every Thursday we will offer you compelling analysis, a look at the best wrestling you might have missed over the previous seven days and an interview or feature focused on some of the most important newsmakers in the sport.

This is a historic time to be in the wrestling business and should be an exciting era for fans as two megapower promotions collide. We will be your guide as All Elite Wrestling and World Wrestling Entertainment wage a Wednesday wrestling war and promotions big and small continue innovating and reinventing what is possible inside the ring all over the world.

Brandi Rhodes doesn't dream small. If she and her partners did, they'd still be grinding away on the independent scene or begrudgingly collecting a paycheck from WWE as they watched the clock on their professional careers slowly wind down.

Instead, they are launching the first real competitor the wrestling space has seen in decades—and doing it their way.

As chief brand officer for All Elite Wrestling, the shiny new promotion launching this October on TNT, she spends most of her time building partnerships and making people feel like they matter. As a professional wrestler and manager, she more often sows chaos and discord.

She'll fully occupy both roles at All Out, the sequel to a pay-per-view that essentially launched the promotion into existence and made the fledgling group the talk of the community, stealing the hearts of fans throughout the wrestling world. It returns to the scene of the crime in suburban Chicago this Saturday on Bleacher Report Live with a show that promises to do something most follow-up acts can't—top the original.

Just days before the event that will set the stage for the promotion's television debut and establish its ongoing direction and storylines, Rhodes, who is married to fellow wrestler and AEW vice president Cody Rhodes, sat down for a two-part interview with Bleacher Report's Jonathan Snowden to discuss her ever-shifting world.

Jonathan Snowden: I know it's got to be hectic heading into a major show like All Out. It occurs to me that very soon this isn't going to be something you guys have to grapple with every couple of months or every few weeks. It's going to be a weekly thing, every single Wednesday. Are you ready to step out into the storm?

Brandi Rhodes: Yeah, I think we're ready. Being on the road every week is not new to me. I've had a little bit of a reprieve actually, so it's kind of welcome to be traveling again so frequently and able to be fully engrained in the work and busy, busy, busy. We're all looking forward to it on our end. It's actually a little bit lighter a schedule than we're used to, so it's going to be very nice.  

JS: I'm really excited by the women's division you're building at AEW. I think it could be a real secret weapon, especially because many fans in the United States have never seen what a lot of them can do. But you've also got what I see as quite a challenge in front of you. How do you mesh the tremendous women from the Japanese Joshi Puroresu scene that Kenny Omega is helping scout with the Americans who come with different skill sets and a different approach in the ring?

Rhodes: One of the best things about our division is that it's so very diverse. We have a lot of female wrestlers who bring a lot of different things to the table. I think you're right that a lot of the Joshi talent hasn't been seen before, so it's great to have them on board to show people what they can do.

They'll be mixing with people like Allie and Brit, who have been on the indy scene for awhile but haven't really broken through, either. I think it's going be a nice mix no matter what you like.

There are a lot of fans who really like that high-flying, fast-moving, hard-hitting action. And there are some people who really love to be fully invested in the character work of someone and wondering what's going to happen next in the story and where it's going to go.

That's the beauty of what we're doing. There's no box that anyone is going to be forced into. They are allowed to be authentically who they are and that will be a recipe for success.

JS: I've been watching over the last several weeks as you've announced some familiar faces for the All Out Casino Battle Royal like Sadie Gibbs and Jazz. Pardon the pun, but I'm pretty jazzed about it.

Are these signings for just the single match in Chicago, or does it indicate a more long-term relationship with AEW is either in place or possible?

Rhodes: Most of the women you'll see at the Casino Battle Royal are non-active members of our roster. As I've mentioned on the Road to All Out, we don't have 21 women on the roster and the match requires 21 women.

So, this is an opportunity for a lot of these women to get in front of a larger audience. Maybe an opportunity most of them have never had, or at least not in a long time.

Right now, most of these women aren't actively members of the AEW roster. But that doesn't mean they won't continue to work with us.

JS: It sounds like this is an opportunity for them to impress the people in the back, who will surely be watching closely.

Rhodes: I feel like it's more an opportunity for them to impress the audience. They're our core and who we're listening to. They kind of have their finger on the pulse of what they want.

If someone makes a great showing and the audience is really, really loving them, that certainly will go a long way.

JS: I absolutely love the feature you did on the Road to Fight for the Fallen about your figure skating career. It was super-relatable to everyone who has ever failed at something and spent years seeking redemption. My whole family was Team Brandi after that moment. Then you came out at Fight for the Fallen and were a villain! Is that dichotomy tough to pull off?

Rhodes:  Actually, it's not. I think my character is a little more complicated than people give her credit for. I do have these moments when I can rope you in and have you very much on my side—and even feeling sorry for me. But in those moments, it's up to you to decide if that's real.

So, the last couple of times I've done it, I've proved I wasn't really about what I was supposed to be about. In the case of Allie and Awesome Kong, I cried crocodile tears and wanted people to be behind me and be my friend and cheer for me. And the first chance I got, I took the easy route. And I won.

And that's what it's about. It's about winning the matches. It's good when you create those emotions. When you can just feel that burn like "my God, how dare you?"

One of my favorite characters to watch growing up was Sensational Sherri. Man, she pissed me off all of the time. But I always wanted to see her and see her get her comeuppance. She was just so much fun to hate. I think about her sometimes with some of the things that I do.

It gets even more complicated because I do work with Cody, and a lot of the times he is a good guy. It's hard to see him as a bad guy, especially with everything he's done for pro wrestling in general. So, it's an interesting on-screen relationship. I'm true to myself, but I always have a soft spot for my husband no matter how nefarious I am.

JS: It's fascinating to watch you navigate social media as one of the most high-profile women in all of wrestling. Some of the fans are lovely; others less so. I don't want to speak for you, but from the outside, it looks like there is a sizable contingent of fans who seem uncomfortable with a woman, especially a woman of color, in a decision-making position. Does it feel that way to you sometimes, too?

Rhodes: Social media always has that anonymous factor to it where people can say whatever they want to say without being accountable.

Definitely, there are people who have adverse reactions to our brand as well as my role. That's OK. It's just social media and it's never going to change as far as I can tell. But it's not going to stop me from doing my job and what I need to do and what I love to do.

I think in wrestling generally there is this good old boys' system. Where you always have a lot of men at the top and a lot of men making all the decisions. And I think it's time we kind of stepped away from that. Truly, in our minds. It's one thing to say it and another thing to actually accept it, be about it and walk the walk.

I'm looking forward to that with AEW and hoping we continue this journey and continue to see women differently than the industry has in the past. And that includes my role. As positions come open and we grow, I hope the best candidates get the jobs and not just people in the right network or people with the right number of years in the industry.

It's a paradigm that's shifting right now and it's taking some people, including some members of the audience, a little bit of time to catch up.

In part two of our exclusive interview next week, Rhodes discusses the struggles a performer can face as a woman in wrestling, the promotion's commitment to inclusion of all kinds and why fans should give this new group a chance.

'Hard Times' Promo of the Week

Kenny Omega isn't normally known as a promo guy, but he absolutely blistered the hide off of Jon Moxley in the most recent episode of Being the Elite.

This was filmed with the camera and lighting setup used for Road to All Out, a good aesthetic choice as the normally breezy goofball went on the attack in an interview that got very personal, very quickly.

Omega was critical of Moxley's decision to wrestle in New Japan Pro-Wrestling's notoriously strenuous G1 Climax tournament and offered no kind words wishing him a speedy return from a staph injury that will prevent the wrestler formerly known as Dean Ambrose from competing at All Out.

The highlights:

"Did I go to Japan and wrestle 24 days in a month before fighting you? No, you see, I did this thing, Jon. It's called being a professional. What am I supposed to say? I was ready, I took you seriously. I never got myself injured. I got myself in the best shape of my life. You never took me seriously. You never took this PPV seriously.

"You owe everyone an apology, you owe me an apology, and you should really look in the mirror, Jon, mm-hmm, you should look in the mirror and you should ask yourself, ‘what the f--k am I doing?’

"I'm playing this all back in my mind and I'm thinking I'm being really insensitive, because this is a real serious injury, it could have happened to anybody, right? You were careless. I blame you. And if people want to look at me like I'm the bad guy? Well, jeez, they're just as bad as you are, Jon. You left a lot of pieces, a lot of broken dreams, and a lot of disappointed fans laid upon my feet. And they're begging for something now, huh? What kind of wrestler does that?"

The Illegal Double Team Hot Take

In many ways, wrestling promotion is a lost art.

The old masters, men like Dusty Rhodes or "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, could take the skeleton of an idea and turn it into oral gold. They didn't need a script or a committee of writers to craft their dialogue—it came from the heart, as authentic as the men who performed it.

As wrestling became more "corporate boardroom" than "outlaw biker bar," the way wrestlers talked changed to suit those shifting sands. Instead of responding like a normal human being—sometimes angry, sometimes funny, sometimes even with imperfect delivery—the wrestler has become nothing more than a vessel for a Hollywood writer.

The template for the modern wrestling promo was created by The Rock—sarcastic, funny and sneering. But he was a singular performer. Those who have followed have paled in comparison when trying to do his act, to the point that today's Rock clone is barely an echo of the original.

The result is often awkward, stilting and hard to take seriously, each wrestler, no matter their supposed background or motivation, sounding like the exact same vascular automaton.

That brings us to Road to All Out. The presentation on this weekly series is the antithesis of what we've come to expect from wrestling promotion. The sitdown interviews, particularly, have given matches that might otherwise not seem especially important the kind of gravitas that is rare in contemporary wrestling.

When Jim Ross sits down to talk to "Hangman" Adam Page, it doesn't feel like a wrestling interview. It feels like the best kind of sports programming, a version of 24/7 for the squared circle.

Short on histrionics and long on authenticity, it's a look inside the mind and heart of an athlete facing a significant challenge. There aren't the long, tortured pauses or panicked looks as the performer forgets a line that we see so often on wrestling television. Instead, it's a man sharing his story in a calm, calculated and compelling way.

Ross invented the form in signature interviews in WWE's glory years with figures such as Austin and Mick Foley and excels at highlighting who the wrestler really is and what their motivations might be. It's excellent, compelling television. I hope it's a staple of AEW programming going forward.

Three-Count: Looking Ahead

AEW All Out (Aug. 31, Bleacher Report Live):

Chris Jericho vs. "Hangman" Adam Page for the AEW World Championship

Kenny Omega vs. Pac

The Lucha Bros vs. The Young Bucks in a ladder match for the AAA World Tag Team Championships