#and seeing my jaw and nose in profile clearly for the first time

[sandersstudies]

Blurry ass pic of me in this mirror looks like a recolored 1920s photograph

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Alt Assistant AU - Game Night

“Hey.”

Kara lets herself into Lena’s office, her greeting pulling her girlfriend’s attention to her.

“Hey,” Lena returns. At this hour, she should be tired, but there’s not a trace of exhaustion in the focused gaze that meets hers with a smile. “How’d it go?”

Kara grins. “I signed my contract with CatCo forty-three minutes ago.” 

Lena’s smile widens to beaming. “I knew you’d wow them.” She rises from her seat and leans in to press a kiss to Kara’s lips. “Congratulations, love.”

Lifting the bag of Big Belly in her hand, Kara shrugs her eyebrows invitingly. “Dinner to celebrate?”

Without a further word, Lena moves with her to the couch. Though she brings a stack of contracts with her, she holds off on reviewing them until after their burgers are devoured and the leftover fries long cold. Kara doesn’t mind Lena’s preoccupation– it gives her an opportunity to study Lena in profile, from the line of her jaw to the curve of her nose. 

“Hey,” Kara murmurs. 

“Hmmm?” Lena hums back, not quite looking away from the pages in her lap. Kara smiles.

“I’m hosting game night tomorrow.” Her declaration is met with a nod and another hum. “Wanna join?”

“Not really.” 

That’s another difference of this reality– this Lena declines invitations just as often as the old Lena used to, but not out of self-preservation. She simply feels no need to commit herself to something she’s not interested in. Most times, Kara admires her forthright, but tonight she can’t help the disappointment that courses through her.

Lena senses the change in her mood, and sets the contract down to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want you to come,” Kara returns plainly. 

Lena’s brow furrows. “Why?”

It’s not an unreasonable question– Kara’s been hosting game not regularly since the reality reset, eager to reclaim one of the few things that helped her feel like nothing had changed. Lena has never expressed interest in attending, and Kara hasn’t extended the invite until now. But something has changed.

“My friends will be there,” Kara says. She lets her fingers trace the seam of the back couch cushion. She keeps her eyes on Lena’s. “I want you to meet them.”

Lena’s chin tilts to one side. “I see.”

“All of you are important to me,” Kara continues. “I want you all to know each other.”

She’s lived separate lives before– she has no interest in suffering similarly in this reality.

Lena’s pink lips twist into a smile. Her gaze teasingly turns askance, even as she gracefully scoots herself closer to Kara. “Well,” she purrs. “In that case…”

She leans in, and Kara closes the distance, capturing her lips– still tasting faintly of grease– in another kiss. 

“I suppose I can make the time.”

—

Game night is better than Kara could have imagined. In the previous reality, Lena’s first three game nights had seen her stiff and reticent, coiled tightly as though expecting a physical blow. But current Lena… Lena is on full display. All of her magnetism that draws investors in like moths to flame now brings Kara’s friends into easy conversation, her features bright and open.

She absolutely dominates at Monopoly, of course. And Trivial Pursuit. Kara cherishes every cheer of excitement when Lena succeeds, be it collecting rent or a correct, obscure answer. Lena’s clearly enjoying herself, which was Kara’s secondary goal for the night. Joining the two halves of her life will only work if both sides have fun.

The night ends when Lena heads out first. “Early meeting,” she explains, but Kara suspects she’s bowing out– at least in part– to give them time to report in and render judgement. 

When the door closes behind Lena, Kara takes a moment to deliver a load of dishes to the kitchen. She can’t help the grin that spreads her features– she can’t wait to hear her friends’ approval. But when she turns back to the line of solemn features lined up before her, her stomach drops.

“What? That– things went great! I thought—” She scans their faces. Alex, she can kind of understand. As her sister, she’s predisposed to being protective. Brainy, less so, but to Kara he seemed to be demurring to his own girlfriend, on whom Kara locks her gaze. 

“Nia?”

Nia at least, she expected to be receptive to Lena. They’d been friends in the previous reality, to Kara’s recollection, and her easy-going nature surely would have left her primed to adore Lena.

Except Nia’s grimace is widest of them all.

“I dunno…” She draws out the word, stretching it into an audible apology. “She’s nice, I guess, but… she’s also a little… intense?”

Kara blinks in surprise. “Intense? How do you mean?”

Lena can be intense. Kara knows this. She wouldn’t be a good executive if she wasn’t. Nor would she be able to go head-to-head in a male-dominated industry. But Kara hadn’t seen that intensity tonight. She’s genuinely confused, and waits for Nia to elaborate. 

“Well…” Nia seems at a loss for words, and she shoots a glance at the others for support. “She’s, uhh…”

“Obsessed with winning, for one,” Alex delivers bluntly.

Kara stares at her sister. “You’re mad because she… won?”

“It’s more than that,” Nia follows up quickly. “I don’t know how to really explain it, but she just doesn’t seem to… fit.”

“She has nothing in common,” Alex continues. “And I don’t like how she treats you.”

“Like what?”

“You waited on her hand and foot the entire night! Like you were her assistant!”

“It just felt like there wasn’t space for anyone else when you’re talking to her,” Nia says softly. “It might just be me, but…”

“It’s not.” Alex all but scowls. “All of us felt it, and the fact neither of you picked up on how uncomfortable we were says more than it doesn’t.”

Anger starts to build in Kara’s belly, but the hurt in her chest tamps it down. A lump lifts to her throat when she looks to the one person who hasn’t weighed in yet. 

“Brainy?”

His expression is pensive. “I too noticed the magnitude of Miss Luthor’s presence, which perhaps may not be well suited to such intimate evenings between friends.”

Kara presses her lips together. She takes a deep breath, then a second. Once she’s sure she can speak without her voice breaking, she swallows thickly. 

“I see.”

“Kara…” Nia trails off when Kara lifts her hand.

“I know you all must be tired. I’ll clean up,” she says. Nia opens her mouth to protest, but Alex places a hand on her shoulder. The younger woman slumps minutely as she quietly sighs. 

“Okay.” Nia rises from her seat, tugging Brainy towards the door. “I’m sorry, Kara. I just worry–”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Kara clips out. It effectively silences Nia, who glances sadly at her before she and Brainy slip out of the apartment. It leaves Kara alone with her sister, whose gaze she studiously avoids. 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Alex states. “She wasn’t the only one in the room tonight, and she was too full of herself to see that the rest of us weren’t gelling. And you deserve better than someone who treats you like the help.”

Kara doesn’t respond or look up from the knot of wood in her butcher block table. 

“I know it’s not what you want to hear–”

“I need to get up early tomorrow,” Kara grinds out. She’s heard enough. “Please leave.”

Alex doesn’t push any further. She nods, reaching for her jacket.

“Call if you need anything.”

Kara doesn’t breathe again until the door clicks shut. Only then does she release the pressure in her chest with a gasp, as the tears splash onto her cheeks.

—

Kara had lied about the early morning, but she finds herself sleepless regardless. She waits until the sun rises before she finally texts Lena.

What’re you up to? She sends, doing her best to sound casual and unaffected. She thinks she might have succeeded when Lena’s pending response immediately appears in the form of three pulsing dots.

Work, comes the quick reply. Seoul needs some cajoling.

Kara sends a sympathetic emoji back.

Should have everything handled in a few hours. Meet me at the office at 10? We can go to brunch.

Despite the gloom hanging heavy in her thoughts, Kara finds herself smiling. 

Absolutely.

She’s in front of LuthorCorp twenty minutes to ten, and sends a querying question mark to see if Lena’s already on her way down. Unsurprisingly, she gets a ‘ten more minutes’ in response. Kara decides to spend the wait inside, and makes her way up to Lena’s office. As the elevator lifts higher, Kara’s stomach sinks lower.

She won’t be able to hide this from Lena. Lena knows her too well, and besides that it wouldn’t be fair to let Lena believe something that wasn’t true. Still, Kara plasters on a smile before pushing the final door open.

Lena looks up, and her eyes spark with joy at the sight of her. She rises from her seat, meeting Kara halfway to the desk to greet her with a brief, sweet kiss. 

“Hey,” Lena says. “I just wrapped up the call. I just need to document what was discussed and then we can leave.  They were ornery, but I’m persistent, so they eventually came around.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Kara returns. She watches Lena return to her seat and soon the soft clicking of rapid typing filled the air.

“Last night was fun,” Lena says, glancing briefly up to catch Kara’s gaze. Her eyes are bright, betraying the honesty of her words. “And your friends are nice. I like them.”

“Yeah,” Kara breathes. Her fingers reflexively reach up to adjust her glasses. Lena’s typing pauses. She looks up at Kara for a poignant moment, and Kara can see the moment her walls shutter into place behind her eyes.

“Ah.”

Lena’s gaze returns to the computer screen, and her long fingers resume their typing. Her tone is even, but the neutrality in it is clue enough that she’s more affected than she wants Kara to know. 

“It… It’s not that they didn’t like you–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena says coolly. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“What I mean is–”

“It’s fine, Kara,” Lena cuts her off, irritation leaking through her facade. “It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me!” Kara blurts. Her vision wobbles through angry tears. Her throat aches, but with the truth hanging between them the dam has broken. “It matters to me.”

Lena’s fingers fall still. Her gaze softens as her eyes find Kara’s. After a moment, she pushes her chair back and rises. Crossing around her desk, she leans back against it, arms folding over her chest. Lena studies the ground at her feet for a long moment before lifting her chin.

“Is it something I can fix?”

The question is plain yet loaded with thinly veiled hurt, and it breaks Kara’s heart to hear it. Then in the next heartbeat, anger flares in Kara’s chest. The one thing she admired most about Lena in this reality, the one thing she was never forced to do here, was to remake herself into something she wasn’t. To change herself to be more palatable to others.

And here she is, offering to do just that.

For Kara.

“No,” Kara croaks. Then, stronger, “no.”

Lena takes a deep breath. “Kara, I can see how much it means to you, to live your life as a singular whole. And I get it– I do. But I’ve seen this before. I know if it comes down to a choice between them and me… I know I won’t be the one to keep you.”

Her voice cracks, and Kara’s heart stutters to see the sudden tears in Lena’s eyes. Her own cheeks are already damp, and her breath hitches in her chest. Lena pushes towards her at the sound of it. Her palms frame Kara’s cheeks so gently Kara only sobs again.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, lips quivering. “Kara...”

“You’re not.” Kara swallows, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s waist. The contact grounds her, lending her the strength that drained out of her the night before. It bolsters her, drying her tears even as Lena’s thumbs brush them from her cheeks. “You won’t.”

Kara leans in and kisses Lena firmly on the mouth. Then she wraps her arms around her, hugging her close enough to whisper low in Lena’s ear. 

“I love you, Lena.”

Lena’s arms tighten around her waist, burrowing her face against Kara’s neck.

“You will never lose me,” Kara vows. Her jaw tightens. “Never again.”

She pulls away with another fierce kiss. Lena lets her go, but her touch lingers as they disengage. Kara backs up, keeping her gaze on Lena for a long moment. 

“I have to go. But I’ll be back.” She smiles. “And brunch’ll be on me.”

Lena does her best to smirk, and it almost reaches her eyes. “Promise?”

Kara knows it’s meant to be a suggestive tease, but the nod she gives in return is as solemn as a vow.

“I promise.”

—

Kara issues only a short text to the group.

My place. Now.

If any of them had other plans, her tone plainly supercedes them, as fifteen minutes later her friends are all sitting on her couch watching her glare at them.

“I am angry,” she states, unnecessarily. “With all of you.”

Nia is the only one to quail at her tone. “Kara…”

“You are so indescribably selfish, each and every one of you. And you have the gall to say Lena is full of herself?”

Alex’s mouth opens in defiance, but Kara doesn’t give her the chance to speak. 

“But you’re right about one thing– last night was a test. Lena might have failed yours… but you failed mine.”

Nia and Brainy look at each other, but Alex’s features don’t soften a bit. It only rankles Kara further.

“So what if she wins at all the games? None of you can pretend you wouldn’t do the same in her place.” 

Brainy’s head tilts in concession, but her focus is caught once more by Alex once more drawing breath to protest.

“And the fact that I wait on her, as you so aptly put it?” she barks. “That I refilled her glass and kept her snacks topped up? What you conveniently failed to notice is that she didn’t ask me to do any of that!”

“No, she just expected it–!”

“I did it because I wanted to! Because I wanted her to be comfortable around my friends! Because I love her!”

Her voice rings out sharply in the sudden quiet. Kara hadn’t meant to admit it to them, not here, not now, but she refuses to take it back. She lets her scowl deepen.

“I love her,” she repeats, this time calmer. She looks at each of them. “I introduced you to the woman I love, and all you could think of were yourselves.”

Nia’s guilt visibly deepens, her shoulders bowing in on themselves. Brainy’s chin lifts, suffering the accusation stoically without denial. Only Alex remains unrepentant.

“Lena is kind and confident, and wonderful. She’s also stubborn, strong, and ruthless when she needs to be. I will not let her compromise any part of who she is just because you can’t handle who and what she is.”

A beat of silence follows, before Alex sighs.

“She was your boss, Kara,” she points out. Her tone, at least, has softened. “A boss you hated. And now she’s got you wrapped around her little finger? I don’t buy it. I don’t buy whatever she’s told you about how she’s changed, just to get you into bed–”

“Enough!” Kara shouts. Her hand slices through the air, silencing her sister, if only for a moment. She trembles with rage. “Don’t you dare say anything about something you know nothing about–”

“I’m your sister,” Alex fires back, “I know plenty–”

“She’s not the one who changed!” Kara cries, finally shocking Alex to a standstill. “You say you know me, but I’m the one who changed. For months, I’ve been different, and none of you have noticed.” She glares at her sister. “Not even you.”

None of them seem to know what to say. Even Brainy, astute and perceptive as he is, seems perplexed. She continues to glare at them, but ultimately reaches for her purse to leave. She’s done with this conversation. 

“Lock up after yourselves,” she snaps. “I’ve got brunch to get to.”

She leaves them all where they sit, gaping after her until she slams the door shut behind her.

[bella-caecilia]

#10 for Corbet please:)

After an actual year, I'm finally answering your ask, anon. Thanks for your patience <3 (and to the other Colour symbol prompts sitting in my inbox, I see you. I'm just slow)

#10 - Green – Health, Safety, Harmony

1896

She breathed a sigh of contentment. On the wide bench, they only took up a fraction of the space. Cora had opted to scoot even closer than usual and disregard custom completely. She felt Robert’s warm body pressed to her side and it was the cause for the complete relaxation that enveloped her.

It was late spring and the ideal weather for one of their extended morning walks. Cora was filled with a sense of joviality. After a long while, she finally felt healthy and strong again. The long walk over the greening estate posed no obstacle for her anymore after she had been so constricted and weak for so many months. The pregnancy with Sybil hadn’t been quite so easy on her body as the two before, where her youth had probably helped her compensate for the extreme conditions her body was put through. And then the strugglesome birth followed, and with a healthy bundle of joy in the house that Sybil was, Cora fell into a series of illness-ridden weeks and months. Struggling to find foot again in a world of the living and healthy, Cora was tied to the bed and began fearing that this – being a regular on the doctor’s schedule and never seeing her daughters but for a few minutes when they reverently paid her a visit in her sickroom – would be her future.

Today, this thought seemed to be so far it felt like another lifetime, and still, there wasn’t a day where she didn’t think how different her life could be if she was a little less lucky.

She put her palm on Robert’s elbow joint and took a deep breath. Oh, she was so lucky! She turned her head to the side and took in Robert’s profile. He was a handsome man with his strong jaw, the straight nose, and kind eyes. His dark-green felted hat threw a sharp shadow on his forehead, and Cora strained her eyes to make out his expression.

Robert felt her attention and looked at her, too. He put his warm hand over hers in the crook of his arm and his look was soft.

“It is a nice day,” he stated.

“Yes. Indeed.”

“Do you want to continue our walk?” he asked. “I got lost in my thoughts, I’m afraid. We sat here for a while already.”

“It is absolutely all right. I do not mind the rest.” Cora leaned her head against his shoulder. Only cautiously, for their hats didn’t allow the tight embraces that Cora preferred for moments in private.

Robert kept his straight and strong posture. He took a few seconds before he answered. “It was too much, too straining,” his voice was grave. “I should have known it. You should have said something, Cora.”

“No!” she made clear before she lifted her head again. With wide eyes, she looked at him piercingly. He had to believe her. “It was not too much at all. I am very happy we took the longer route today. I missed it.”

Robert’s look was sceptical still. There was an expression of worry etched across his face. Only a faint smile ran over his face when she said that she had missed it.

“Robert, you have to believe that I am not sick anymore. The doctor told you so, and I tell you, too. I am fine. I am healthy and don’t need to be treated differently or spared anything.” She took his hands. They were so warm and strong. And for the first time in a long, hers were warm too. And maybe strong. She smiled. Squeezing his hands, she added, “Let us be happy. Everything is alright again.”

He returned her smile. Not taking his eyes off her, he rubbed her hands and seemed to enjoy just looking at her so close in front of him. They were happy. Cora could clearly see it in Robert’s eyes. The way he held her hands, Cora felt completely safe after living in unspoken fear – the thought of an uncertain future ever-present – for the last half year. His touch grounded her. It was not primarily that she felt his hand in hers. His touch was not the concerned brush over her perspiring brow anymore; it was not the cautious and so ginger grip around her fingers she could barely lift herself. She felt a confidence in his touch now, a certain trust in her strength. At the same time, it told her, he was there for her and he also acknowledged her sanguine state.

A light breeze brushed around them as one. Sitting so close, the wind didn’t distinguish them as two people. Cora held onto Robert’s hands and looked around them. The plants were in bloom and were all painted in the lushest greens. Spring was her favourite season for a reason. She liked how everything was so fresh in spring and that in spring, it felt like everything was possible. She liked the lavish splendour of English nature. If it was up to her, she wouldn’t let Robert go after their morning walks, especially during these beautiful spring days. She would stay outside in the green with him all day. And if she was at it, she’d also take the girls with her. This thought brought her the greatest joy. One day, she should do it. Though, she always postponed it when she remembered the resistance she would face. Brushing these thoughts away, she took a deep inhale (or as deep as her corsetry allowed) of the nectary air that came from the cherry trees nearby. She only realised she was grinning widely, exposing her teeth, when Robert’s soft voice broke the serene silence.

“Are you enjoying it?”

She nodded. “Yes. I knew why I married an Englishman with a beautiful estate.” A cherry blossom landed on the brim of Robert’s hat. The pale pink on the moss green felt caught Cora’s eye. She extricated one hand from Robert’s grip and reached up to his hat to carefully take the blossom.

“So, it was not the title after all,” Robert said.

Cora tipped her head to the side to give him a look of mock annoyance but all she managed was an adoring glare. Now, they were able to joke about what made their first year so rocky, and that was what made Cora happiest about the short exchange. Their love and harmony were such a matter of course that there was no room for doubt. Not between them. And not for anyone looking upon their marriage. Lord and Lady Downton, Robert and Cora, were an enamoured couple, and everyone knew it.

They could easily joke about their unconventional start. “It was only about the estate,” Cora looked into the blooming trees behind her as she finally tore her eyes from her husband. “I could not have cared less about who Lord Downton was,” she teased. It was far from the truth.

“Oh, really?” His tone held little credulity.

“I didn’t even know whether he was blonde or bald when I agreed to marry him,” Cora continued the non-sensical farce she made up.

“I believe you were in for quite the shock then, when you had to walk down the aisle.” Robert played along. Cora had to hold in a grin as she happily noticed him humouring her. Her eyes were still directed at a faraway point opposite from him. Her hand lay loosely in his palm as she feigned to leisurely muster the rose garden with no interest in her conversation partner.

“Oh, I didn’t expect him to be a dodderer but marrying an old man is all right if he has such nice rose gardens and orchards to offer.”

“Cora, I’m three years older!” He eventually lost his countenance.

She turned to him laughingly. His upset face amused her. Of course, he was no old man at all. He had the appearance of a young boy much more often, in fact.

Just when she was about to put in an appeasing word, she saw Nanny coming down the gravel path behind Robert. Apparently, she was using the nice weather to take Sybil on a walk. The white pushchair attracted all of Cora’s attention, and she forgot everything they were talking about as it rolled toward them. Her little Sybil.

Robert noticed Cora’s attention and look wandering off and turned around to see what was occupying her.

When the nanny was approaching them, she was slowing down a bit and smiled unsurely at her employers. She seemed unsure whether she had to interrupt her walk with the little girl in the pushchair. Cora didn’t leave her wondering long.

“Nanny Evans. How is our little Sybil doing?”

She pulled her hands into her lap and ignored the fact that she was still sitting too close to her husband.

The nanny halted next to the bench and answered dutifully, “She is doing very well, milady. She’s a real sunshine today again. But she always is.”

Cora smiled. She really was. Her little Sybil was such a joy.

“Are we interfering severely with your walk, Nanny?” Cora asked.

“Of course not, milady.”

“I wouldn’t want to disturb your schedule, but I would love to have a little time with her.” Cora craned her neck to glance into the pushchair, without success.

“Very well, my lady,” Nanny said but she didn’t seem to know what to do with Cora’s wish. Eventually, she steered the pushchair onto the lawn and in front of the bench. Then, she awkwardly waited next to the baby for what would happen.

“Could you leave her with us? We would bring her back inside in a few minutes,” Cora clarified.

Nanny Evans bowed her head and retreated to the path. “My lady. My lord.”

As the nanny walked back to the house, Cora stood up and approached the white pushchair. Euphoric joy rushed through her veins. To have her little girl so close and to herself for once. The soft cooing coming from the pushchair put her in even more anticipation and it gave her breasts a light tweak. But she was no wetnurse. She knew it, just her body didn’t.

Once she bent over the sheltered basket, the familiar big blue eyes stared up at her with so much curiosity and serenity. Cora’s face broke into a big smile. Sybil had her little fist in her mouth and didn’t let herself be bothered but continued gnawing at her own hand. Cora remembered that the nanny mentioned yesterday that Sybil might be teething.

“Hello, my little angel. Hm, baby girl? Did Mama nip more ‘Sybil time’?” she cooed at her baby. With big eyes, Sybil looked up at her without blinking, and Cora saw the green treetops reflecting in Sybil’s eyes. “Come here, my dear,” she breathed as she picked her up. She sat back down next to Robert, with Sybil on her lap.

“You are very forward,” he mentioned, referring to the exchange with the nanny.

She ignored him and brushed over Sybil’s dark shock of hair with one hand. The other held the soft baby belly close to her own body.

“Your Papa is also very happy to have you with us now,” she said down to Sybil.

“Yes. I am,” he insisted to make Cora believe him. She looked up and smiled at Robert. Then, she extended her free hand and he took it. “I am,” he repeated in a softer tone and his eyes got lost in Sybil’s curious stare. Cautiously, he put the index finger of his other hand forward and nudged the chubby fist of Sybil that wasn’t buried in her cheek. After a while, the little girl opened her fist and grabbed her father’s finger with determination. Her cooing sounds bubbled past her drool-covered hand and grew into more pointed articulations directed at Robert. She started rocking in Cora’s lap as if she tried to bob closer to Robert.

Robert’s placid expression turned into one of confusion. He looked up at Cora questioningly. “What does she mean? What does she want?”

Cora chuckled. “She is happy to see you.”

Robert didn’t seem to be convinced by her answer. “She could just smile then, couldn’t she?”

“You sound just like your mother or Rosamund,” Cora noticed. “She is happy, Robert. I don’t only smile either when I am happy to see. There is nothing wrong with being expressive.”

Robert looked at Cora as he considered her words. He mustered her face and got a thoughtful expression before Cora saw realisation dawn on his face. He smiled.

“No, there is nothing wrong with it.” He pulled his hand out of her grip and brushed his knuckle over her cheek.

“Now you hold her.”

Her demand seemed to come rather unexpectedly for him. He looked surprised. “Why? You two look quite nice.”

“Come on. You would make her even happier.”

“Maybe I would make you happier,” he remarked.  

She only looked at him challengingly and nearly immediately saw him yield.

He seemed a little apprehensive when Cora transferred the baby onto his lap, but he did quite well. After all, it wasn’t the first time he held a baby. Cora realised it wasn’t such a regular occasion either, though.

Robert and Sybil quickly warmed up to the new situation. It turned out to not only be Cora’s fault they were getting back to the house late.

...

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[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

I Have Found You

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Aaron Hotchner Taglist - @braelyniskool, @canadailluminate, @filmsbyblair, @ready-4-spencie, @mrs-scottmccall, @j-cat, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29

Prompt - I have for the first time found what I can truly love. I have found you.

—————————————————–

You and Aaron had had a long week at work, each on separate cases but both equally as drained as the other. Your job saw you travelling to and from New York each day, working for one of the states best law firms, it was hard working your way up but you did it and now you were dealing with high profile cases day in and day out.

This case was particularly gruelling but it was finally finished and you had won. It was a small victory for the family but it was a victory nonetheless.

Aaron was working on his own case, he had been in Las Vegas for the past four days dealing with a serial killer who was targeting families. The unsub was organised, too organised, and more families were killed before they finally caught a break. From there it had been a matter of hours before they caught the man and the team was back on the jet.

Aaron finished up on the phone before dropping down into his seat beside Rossi who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Short of an emergency we all have Friday and Monday off, I don’t want to see any of you for four days.” Aaron announced to the jet, smiling as it was filled with cheers and laughter.

“So, big plans?” Rossi asked, smirking at Aaron who just rolled his eyes.

“I plan on doing absolutely nothing.” Aaron replied with a smile, already thinking of how great it would be to spend a long weekend with you and Jack, it had been far too long. He had already spoken to you and upon hearing the good news of your case asked if you could get two days off and thanked god that you could.

“I hear you, man.” Derek spoke up from opposite Rossi. “Four whole days of nothing but me and my girl.”

“What about you, kid?” Rossi asked, looking at Spencer who sat opposite Aaron.

“There’s a film festival I really wanted to go to actually, it's showing a bunch of different films in their original language.” Spencer told him and the grin on his face was enough to stop any teasing.

“Have a good time, pretty boy.” Derek smiled back, ruffling the younger man's hair causing him to pout.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the scene but as much as he loved this family, he couldn’t wait to get back home to you and Jack.

-

“How hard can cupcakes be, right?” You asked Jack, who stood on a chair in front of the counter. The two of you were staring at the ingredients that were spread out, not knowing where to start. When you suggested Jack make something for Aaron you were thinking more along the lines of a picture but when the kid suggested cupcakes well…you really wanted cupcakes.

“Right.” Jack agreed, grinning up at you.

Turns out it was harder to make cupcakes than either of you thought.

Aaron walked into the house, smiling immediately as he heard Jack giggling madly. He was quick to follow the noise but stopped abruptly as he stared into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled, quickly scrambling off the chair and throwing himself at Aaron who caught him and lifted him with ease despite the cupcake mixture that stuck to his clothes, face and hair.

“Hey buddy,” He grinned, turning his attention to you. There you stood, cupcake mix splatter on your face, in your hair and on your shirt. You looked dejected as you held an electric mixer, clearly the culprit of the cupcake explosion. “It looks like you and Y/N are having fun.” He said with a laugh, watching how you pouted up at him.

“We were gonna make cupcakes for you, daddy, but Y/N put it on too high.” Jack informed Aaron, giggling madly as he did.

“I didn’t know!” You defended, there was a reason you weren’t trusted in the kitchen.

Aaron’s smile grew and he couldn’t wait any longer to move closer to you, the hand that didn’t hold Jack caressed your cheek and he brought you in for a soft kiss. It didn’t last long, how could it with Jack laughing and making kissing noises, but the two of you pulled away with matching, love struck smiles before you and Jack began laughing together at the cupcake batter that was now perched on Aaron’s nose.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight back the smile.

“Alright, alright,” he said, gaining both of your attention, “how about you two get cleaned up and we can all go out for dinner and then get some cupcakes, hm? That sound good?” He asked Jack who nodded with a grin and squirmed for Aaron to put him down. Once he did, Jack shot off to his bedroom and Aaron turned his attention to you.

“You can’t of thought that was a good idea.” He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in to steal another kiss.

“The kid said cupcakes, who was I to say no?” You responded when he pulled away, giggling as he trailed kisses to your jaw and then peppered them down your neck.

Your eyes closed as you tilted your head back, giving the man more access and you couldn’t help but whine as he pulled away. The whine quickly turned into a laugh as he leaned closer and licked a blob of batter that had stuck to your neck.

“Go clean up, baby.” He said before kissing your head and untangling himself from you.

You and Jack were quick to clean yourselves up and soon you were all out the door and heading to a restaurant that you often frequented when you had Jack.

-

It felt like forever since you had been out with the Hotchner boys and you enjoyed every minute of it, no annoying work calls pulling one of you away, no looming threat of Aaron being called to a different state. No, just you, Aaron and Jack going out together, eating good food, catching up with each other properly.

It was wonderful.

“Cupcakes now daddy?” Jack asked as the waitress cleared the plates.

“Yeah, cupcakes now daddy?” You echoed with a smirk watching as Aaron playfully glared at you.

“Sure thing buddy,” He said to Jack, causing you to let out a quiet laugh. “Pick which one you want.”

Aaron couldn’t tell you who smiled wider when dessert was brought out, you or Jack. Both of you tucked in with the same hunger and he just smiled at the scene.

When you and Aaron had first met, it was to do with a case he was working on. He never expected it to blossom into this. The friendship was unexpected but not unwelcome and then before either of you had realised it you had developed feelings for one another.

You were quite a bit younger than him and he was hesitant to bring the feelings up, not understanding what you could possibly see in an older, divorced, single father.

That was the other issue, sure you knew about Jack but there was a difference between knowing about him and wanting to be a part of his life and as much as Aaron had liked you he knew he couldn’t bring somebody into his life who couldn’t accept Jack.

So the pining went on for months as Aaron made the decision for you that you didn’t want to be burdened with a child that wasn’t yours. And when you finally pulled Aaron’s head out of his arse and made him talk about the feelings between you, you could have slapped him silly.

Sure kids weren’t exactly your forte but you’d at least have liked the chance to decide that. From there Aaron had introduced you to Jack after the two of you went on a few dates. The two of you decided the best place would be out in public, a little less daunting and that’s how you ended up at the zoo.

Jack had warmed up to you rather quickly and you surprised yourself with how good you were with him. Eventually it was Jack asking if you could have a sleepover at their house rather than Aaron trying to explain that you might be there in the morning sometimes.

Aaron was so glad you had talked him out of his own head way back when, and as he watched you with Jack, he knew, not that there was any doubt, that he’d made the right choice.

-

“Can we watch a movie?” Jack asked as the three of you entered the house.

“Buddy, it’s nearly bedtime.” Aaron reminded him as he took your coat from you before taking his own off.

“Please daddy,” Jack pleaded, turning on the puppy dog eyes, “I’ll brush my teeth and put my pyjamas on.”

He looked at you but you were looking down at Jack with a soft smile and he couldn’t say no if he wanted to.

“Deal, teeth and pyjamas, we’ll meet back here in five.” Aaron said and grinned as Jack took off running.

“C’mere baby,” He mumbled as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you up in his arms. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” You confessed into his chest before titling your head up. Aaron was quick to turn his head, leaning down and capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled away he didn’t go far, resting his head on your forehead.

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself these next few days.” He told you quietly, fingers brushing against your waist.

“Me neither, it’s going to be heaven.” You replied, matching both his tone and the smile on his face.

“Daddy,” Jack’s voice pulled you away from each other and you turned to see the kid grinning up at Aaron showing his freshly brushed teeth and proudly wearing his Captain America pyjamas. “You and Y/N/N need your pyjamas too.”

“Of course we do!” You exclaimed, taking Aaron’s hand in yours and pulling him towards the bedroom with instructions for Jack to put a movie on.

“Really can’t wait to have you all to myself.” Aaron said again as he watched you pull your shirt over your head.

“Down boy.” You laughed, throwing the shirt at him.

Watching you undress made Aaron long to touch you but seeing you dressed in his clothes, sweatpants that were way too big for you and a college shirt that drooped off your shoulders was somehow infinitely sweeter.

“I love you.” He told you, pulling you close to place a kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“I love you too.” You smiled before turning around and kissing him. “Get changed.” You ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” Aaron laughed but did as you said.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he held his family in his arms. Jack was half in your lap and half in Aarons and you were sat flushed against him, head resting on his shoulder and your hand holding Jack’s leg.

The movie was still playing but Jack was fast asleep against his chest and you were pretty close to following. Despite that though, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to move and send you both to bed. Instead he tightened his grip on both of you, smiling as you cuddled further into him.

This, this was all he needed, you and Jack by his side. His little family, both of whom had been through so much. All he wanted to do was protect both of you and he would, god would he do anything to protect the pair of you.

You were one of the best things that had happened to him, he had known it since the day he had met you and he had known it two weeks ago when the team finished a case in California and he walked into the jewellers to buy the ring and he knew it now, looking down at you holding onto him and Jack.

He knew you were the best thing to happen to him in a really long time and he would forever be thankful that he had found you.

[subspencer]

taking spencer to a drive-in theatre and giving him a blowie <3

taking spencer to a drive in theater, you say? spencer being really into the movie and not realizing that you’re trying to take advantage of the privacy and have a little adult fun, until you make it glaringly obvious?

wc: just under 1.4k

cw: blowjob. no sub/dom dynamic, though reader does call spencer ‘good boy’. reader can be gender neutral.

Taking Spencer to a drive-in movie theater was your idea. It seemed like the kind of date he’d like; old-school drive-ins playing old-school movies. Pretty fitting for an old school kind of guy. And you were right; Spencer’s eyes were practically glued to the rerun of some classic eighties sci-fi movie that you picked out for the evening.

It was perfect. The air outside was cold but the heaters were blasting in the car. Stars littered the night sky, and the dim glow of the projector screen lit up Spencer’s gorgeous side profile like a baroque painting. And the best part about drive-in theaters? The privacy. 

For cuddling in the car, of course. Because you were too good at setting this date up, and Spencer was way too interested in the movie. Flash Gordon lost your interest a long time ago; it’s now shifted to your boyfriend, who is yet to get on the same page as you. 

His hands rest around your waist as you lean your back and head on his chest, watching him more than anything. The more you take in his features –– dark brows, adorable button nose and full, pink lips –– the less you care about the movie. You take up focus with his hands, instead, and begin toying with his fingers that lay on your waist. They’re long, pretty, and they spur your imagination like no other thing has ever done. 

No longer feeling patient, you crane your head up and begin kissing the underside of his chin, his jaw, and his neck, sucking softly and moaning against him. His eyes flick down to you, catching you giving him a longing look, and he smiles. Before you can get too excited, thinking he’s finally gotten your hint and has decided to take full advantage of the privacy of a drive-in theater, he just as quickly turns back to the screen.

“Spencer,” you whine, tugging on the front of his shirt to call his attention. He shoots you another smile without looking, and laces his fingers with yours, thinking he’s satisfied your need for touch with a simple squeeze of your hand.

“You picked a really good movie, babe,” he whispers and pecks the top of your head.

You have to resist rolling your eyes because clearly it must be fucking good if he’s not at all picking up on the mood you’re trying to set. Returning to kissing his neck, you drag the hand he’s interlocked with yours down your body until they meet the top of your shorts, and let them hover there. At the same time, you take his free hand from your waist, pushing it higher up so that it lays right over your chest.

He barely registers it. Not even as you cover his hand with your own and press down until his palm fully envelopes you, fingertips digging into your breast as you arch into him. You even let out a tiny, mewling sound that he always likes to hear. And the only thing he’s noticing is whatever is happening in this god forsaken movie.

You pull away, annoyed, and his hands drop to the car seat as you sit up straight, crossing your arms as you wait for him to say something. It’s childish, it’s needy, but you don’t care because you’re waiting for him to ask you to come back into his arms. A few minutes go by, and he’s said nothing. Just entirely entranced by the movie. 

So deeply, in fact, that he doesn’t notice as you slide off the seat and get down onto the floor of the car. As best as you can, you crawl over to him, kneeling beside his legs. You place your palm on his knee and massage it, watching his face to see how he reacts. He merely offers a passive hum, so you shift your hand higher, trailing featherlight touches on the inside of his thigh. Spencer lets out a soft giggle, but still, his eyes never shift away. 

When your fingers find his zipper, he raises his hips to help you tug off his trousers and boxers until you’re able to pull his dick free from the fabric. But at this point in your relationship, he could be acting purely out of muscle memory. He’s still not looking.

Only once you start placing little kitten licks up and down his cock, does he stop and ask, “Whatchya doin?” with a soft chuckle. 

You close your mouth and press your lips against the tip, humming a kiss. He twitches in your hand at the sensation of the vibrations. “Nothing,” you smile. The fucker still hasn’t looked at you, but his hands find the back of your head, his fingers carefully web through your hair as you continue playing with him. Entirely passive. 

His thumb starts rubbing slow, absentminded strokes onto your scalp as you wrap your mouth just over the head, sucking gently and flitting your tongue through the slit. 

“Fuck!” his knee jerks at the pleasant surprise. He finally looks down at you, biting his lips and digging his fingertips into your scalp, encouraging you to keep going, “That feels so good.” 

Pulling away, you flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe along his length, base to tip before taking him back into your mouth. He watches you push down until he’s as far into your throat as you can take, making sure he feels you gag softly around him. 

You’ve got his attention right where you want it as he starts guiding your head gently, whining for more and pushing you down on his dick at a relaxed pace. His tongue sweeps over to soothe his bottom lip, sore from biting it, as he watches himself slide in and out of your mouth. “You look so pretty like that,” he whimpers, holding you far down on him. 

You let him enjoy it for a few minutes – watching you take him and controlling your movements – before pulling away and releasing him. He immediately protests the loss. 

“Don’t watch me, baby, watch your little movie,” you smirk, taking him loosely into your hand and stroking him. He knows he’s not going to get a single thing more until he does as you say, yet he grinds into your palm, chasing your hand with his hips as you move up and down. You can tell he’s already close to finishing by the way the muscles in his thighs tense, and you remove your hand to deny him of it. “Did you hear me?” 

“You liked your movie so much, so watch it,” you sneer. Reluctantly, he follows instructions, fixing his eyes back on the screen. For the first time tonight, it’s the last thing he wants to be looking at right now. “Good boy,” you praise, returning to your work.

You know it’s a form of punishment for him that he can’t watch you while you get him off. He may have a perfect memory, but nothing holds a candle to seeing it happen right in front of him. And, you also know that Spencer can’t keep his eyes open when he cums. He always shuts them tight the second he finds release, mouth hanging uncontrollably open as he hits a high. 

So each time he starts getting close, you can tell by his eyes starting to flutter, and you pinch the sensitive flesh on the inside of his thigh. “Keep watching,” you remind him, and he forces his eyes back open. 

“Please?” he begs. “Please, I wanna come,” his hips strain against your grip on them, “And I wanna look at you.” 

You mumble around him to give him permission, and he wastes no time. The second he gets to watch you, with your lips glistening with spit that trails down to your chin, softly smudged makeup under your eyes, he shoots his release down your throat.

As you pull away, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, catching any drops that slipped away. You gladly draw his finger into your mouth, sucking it clean. “That’s my favorite view,” he smiles, dazed. 

You hum around the digit, releasing it with a lazy smile of your own, “And don’t forget it.” 

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[queenxxxsupreme]

More Take Than Give (Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: hi! sorry for my absense! i got busy with a few things and forgot how to write :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: a bit angsty, some fluff

Summary: After Blackwater, things are only getting more strained between you and Arthur. 

***

The sound of floorboards creaking pulled you from your sleep. 

You brought your hand up to rub your eyes. You glanced over to the curtains, curious to know if it was morning yet. Calling them curtains was an overstatement. They were really just sheets you and Abigail had pinned up with some nails. 

Through a crack in the makeshift curtain, you could see a blue sky. The sun had yet to rise. 

You reached out for Arthur, hoping that by some chance you’d find his warm body next to you. But just as you expected, he was gone. It was a rarity to wake up to him still in bed with you. Usually, he was up before the sun, going on runs for Dutch or with someone on a job. 

You turned your head to look around the room. Your eyes caught  Arthur standing by the table between the two windows. He was half way dressed with just his jeans on, and in his hands he held a piece of paper. 

All you could see was his side profile, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see the way he seemed to scowl at the paper. 

“Whatcha readin’?” You asked after watching him for a few moments. 

He turned his head to meet your gaze, offering you a soft smile as he took in your sleepy morning look. Your hair was a mess, the braid it had been in was long gone and the strap to your chemise was falling off of your shoulder. 

“Just a note.” He folded the paper up and put it back down on the table. “Dutch has plans for me and Micah.”

As Arthur moved towards the bed, you rolled over on to your back, eyes following him. He propped one knee up on the edge of the bed and placed his hands on either side of the bed by your head. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. His scruff created a pleasant scratchy burn on your skin as he kissed you. 

“Good mornin’, pumpkin.”

“Mmmhm.” You hummed softly, slipping your arms around his shoulders. You did your best to tug him down to you, but he resisted, using his knee to keep himself from collapsing on to you. 

“Easy there. We don’t need you startin’ something that’ll get both of us into trouble.”

“Can’t you just wait a few minutes?” You frowned. You let him go and watched as he took a few steps away from the bed. He placed his hands on his belt, eyes finding yours. “Just lay here with me. We aren’t usually in camp together most mornings, Arthur.”

“There’s good reason for that.” He chuckled softly, turning to go to one of the windows. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I’d never get outta bed if it were that way.”

You smiled. 

“What’s his plan for you and Micah?”

“Not sure. He wants me to meet up with Micah. Note said Micah will have the rest of the information.”

“I don’t want you goin’ out with Micah.” You sat up, pulling your chemise strap into place. 

“I don’t got much of a choice, pumpkin.”

You stood up from the bed and went over to where a broken mirror hung up on the wall. You raked your fingers through your hair and began to braid it back. 

“Y/N, I don’t got a choice–,”

“I know, Arthur.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

You shook your head softly. 

“Because sometimes…. Sometimes I’d like to have a day to forget.”

Arthur let out a soft sigh. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his face. 

“A day for us.”

“I know. I know.” He nodded. “I’ll see if I can figure somethin’ out. But with the Pinkertons and Dutch–,”

“I know.” You finished the braid and turned to face him. “I know.”

He looked up at you. 

“If you know, then why are you gettin’ so upset?”

“I’m allowed to be upset, Arthur.” You moved across the room to sit on the bed next to him. You tucked one leg underneath yourself and faced him. “I’m allowed to be upset that we don’t get the things we want. This is the first time in a long time that we’ve had privacy away from everyone and we haven’t even gotten time to ourselves.”

“I know.” He slipped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you closer to him so that he could kiss your head. “But we will in due time, pumpkin. Things are just…. up in the air right now.”

“I know.”

“Arthur!” Someone called from downstairs. 

“That’s Susan.” He muttered, standing to his feet. He made his way to the door so he could poke his head. “I’ll be down in just a second, Mrs. Grimshaw!”

“You better!”

Arthur closed the door and turned back to face you. You had gotten up from the bed to get a shirt for him. 

“Duty calls, Mr. Morgan.” You held the shirt open for him. 

“Hey.” He frowned, taking the shirt from you and placing it aside. “Don’t get that tone with me.”

“I don’t have a tone.”

“Yes, you do.” Arthur placed two fingers underneath your chin and tilted your head up. “You are my number one priority, you know that?”

You said nothing as you gazed up at him. When he said nothing else, you grabbed the shirt and held it open for him. 

“You best finish getting dressed. Don’t need Mrs. Grimshaw coming up here.”

He slipped one arm carefully through each sleeve, momentarily turning his back to you. But then he was facing you, blue eyes intensely staring down at you. 

You tried to look down so you could button up his shirt but he held your chin a little more firmly between his thumb and index. 

“You know that, don’t you?” His thumb ghosted over your skin. His brows drew together ever so slightly. 

“Sometimes it don’t feel like it.” You admitted softly. “They call for you. You go. They need something from you, anything from you, and you give it to them. They need you to run out for them, you’ll do it. Whether it’s across town or across the damn country, you’ll drop everything and do it. If they asked for the shirt off your back, you’d give it to them. You…. You’re too good of a man for those folks, Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, clearly I ain’t that good of a man if my lady doesn’t think she’s important to me.” He let his hand fall from you and took a step back.

“Arthur.” You reached out to take his hand. “I know I am important to you. But you don’t…. don’t think about yourself first. So that means you come to bed late and sometimes I never see you.”

“I’ve got to take care of these people, Y/N. Of the girls and John and his family–,”

“I know you do.” You murmured, nodding your head. “But who is going to take care of them if you run yourself into the ground?”

Arthur said nothing. 

You turned to go back to the bed. 

“It’s still early. I’m going to get some sleep.” Your words were quiet, but he heard you anyway. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You’d probably get up just after he left and go down to one of the fires for coffee. But right now, you didn’t want to keep fighting with him. 

You settled onto the bed with your back to Arthur. 

He let out a breath through his nose as he buttoned up his shirt. 

He moved to kneel down by the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your arm. 

“I love you, pumpkin.” 

You felt him kiss the back of your head. 

You placed your hand over his that rested on your arm. 

“I got a bad feelin’ about whatever Dutch is plannin’. I’m not…. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on in his head, but I’ve gotta make sure the girls, Hosea, and John and his family are okay.”

“Love you too, bear.” You squeezed his fingers. “Be safe.”

He smiled softly before standing up and moving towards the door. On his way out, he picked up his hat that rested on the table.

Taglist:  @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday @antoinette-2131  @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[hualianff]

Smol XL

Modern AU where HX comes home around one in the morning after his night shift at a restaurant known for its exquisite fish dishes. Even after taking a dinner break during his shift, HX is starving.

It takes HX several tries to jam his key into the lock before successfully stepping into his apartment. His numb feet carry him through the foyer, heading straight to the fridge.

On his way to the kitchen, the open space to the living room grants HX a view of his roommate HC’s head turned to the television. Some sort of rom-com mixed with martial arts plays on the screen—not what HC typically watches, but HX doesn’t care enough to think too much of it.

With a large yawn, HX opens the fridge in hopes there is something moderately tasty to snack on. The sweet and tangy smell of pork hits HX’s nose, surprising him. HC must have cooked tonight because there was no pork in the fridge this afternoon when HX left for work.

HX reaches for the container sitting on the shelf at chest level, inspecting the overflowing contents of pork, veggies, and rice. He is momentarily skeptical. It’s strange for HC to leave so many leftovers after cooking. It seems HC has left enough that HX can snag a portion. When it comes to his roommate, HX certainly takes what he can get.

After glancing at the lid, HX spots a small sticky note with elegant hand-writing: He Xuan ♡

(HX: 🤨)

HX turns to the counter.

There’s another container with semi-burnt cookies in the middle of the island.

(HX: 😲 )

Begrudgingly, HX scoops the leftover food and some cookies into a bowl to take to his room. On his way, HX is forced to pass by the living room. This time he is afforded a side view of the couch.

Sure enough, HC’s boyfriend is tightly wedged between his legs, leaning back against HC’s chest. A purple velvet blanket covers them both, combining their forms into one huge blob.

The couple doesn’t notice HX. Or at least, HC side-eyes HX for a split second before leaning his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, eyes glued back to the television.

HX shakes his head, then scurries into his room.

Even if HC is going to have XL over for dates and permeate the air with romance when HX is home, at least they always save food for him.

***

When HX gets up at a quarter till seven to brew his morning coffee, he’s met with the sight of XL cheerfully mixing pancake batter in just boxers and a t-shirt that is clearly HC’s because of the way it slips off one shoulder.

HX rapidly blinks as his eyes immediately locate all the love bites littered on XL’s collarbone.

“He Xuan, hi! Good morning!” XL exclaims, turning to face the taller man.

“Morning,” HX greets with a nod of his head. To distract himself from the physical evidence that HC is a goddamn leech, he rounds the counter until he stands beside XL. Out of politeness, HX asks, “What are you making?”

“Pancakes! I’m trying this new recipe that my mother sent me. They’re supposed to be extra fluffy and savory, and I’m going to add blackberries since those are San Lang’s favorite,” XL explains distractedly. HX assesses the bowl of blackberries, bottle of syrup, and whipped cream on the island behind them. “And don’t worry, I’ve made enough servings for the three of us and possibly extra. But that depends how hungry you and San Lang are.”

HX stares wordlessly at XL’s side profile as XL turns the stove on with a brief click! The shorter man holds his palm over the pan, waiting for it to heat up.

It’s safe to say HX is thoroughly touched, though he would rather not admit it. Despite his snarky comments, HC cares for HX with little things like doing his laundry or buying HX’s favorite snacks on a spontaneous grocery run. Then there’s XL who goes out of his way to strike conversations with HX to ask about his days and of course, cook for HX.

The two of them make quite a pair.

So here HX is, helping XL flip the pancakes while XL himself decorates the stack designated for HC. Once enough pancakes for the three of them have been cooked–half the bowl of batter left–HX picks his plate up, standing behind XL to wait for the toppings.

HX is in the middle of telling XL about this one customer who eats at the restaurant every week just to request that the head chef, which is HX, surprise them for their dinner order. It baffles HX to no end. What was the point of going to a restaurant and relying on the chef to decide what you’re going to eat?

“How can a person be so bold?” HX asks in disbelief. He tugs at the collar of his black t-shirt, itching at an area on his shoulder where his uniform slightly chafed the skin. XL laughs lightly, followed by the sound of whipped cream splattering out.

“Well, they certainly have your attention, don’t they?” he teases, flashing HX a smile over his shoulder.

HX jerks back at that.

“What? No, they don’t. Not like what you’re thinking. No. Nope, not like that-” HX rambles, narrowing his eyes at the shorter man.

“What’s their name?”

“...”

XL merely raises his eyebrows. HX exhales sharply, breaking eye contact with the devil’s counterpart.

“How could I not know? Their name is always on the receipt. It’s not my fault I’ve memorized it from seeing it so many times.”

“I never said anything was your fault. But…” XL trails off. He turns back to sprinkle some chocolate shavings onto HC’s pancakes. “Are they hot?”

HX outwardly scoffs. Seriously, HC is a terrible influence on his boyfriend!

(Little does HX know, it goes both ways.)

“What- what kind of question is that? Completely irrelevant. I’m a chef who does their job. I don’t care about a customer’s looks; I care about their tastes and whether they are sufficed by the food we serve. Nothing more,” HX insists.

He is unknowingly babbling at this point. He doesn’t know why his big mouth makes its appearance whenever he’s with XL. It just happens. Which HX will regret within a few hours. But it’s okay because no matter what HX has to say, XL is the type of person who will always listen.

Having at the very least one person like this in his life is not something HX will take for granted.

“-and it seems to work because they always leave generous tips, which I’m not complaining about-”

A raspy dominant voice asserts itself in the middle of HX’s monologue.

“Why the fuck are you talking to yourself?”

HX pauses his rambling, eyes rolling to the ceiling. This dickhead-

But before HX can turn around to respond with a defensive “fuck off,” XL’s entire body straightens up. With the plate of neatly stacked pancakes piled with berries, whipped cream, and chocolate, XL peeks his head out to the side of HX’s figure.

“San Lang! I made pancakes-!”

A startled choking sound snags in HC’s throat.

“Gege!?”

HX, in the middle of such a comical scene, can barely contain his amused smirk.

***

Bonus:

HC internally screams as XL settles into his arms for their movie night. He loves squeezing XL against his body. Hugging him from behind. Tickling him. Really, anything to get his boyfriend’s attention. (As if he doesn’t already hog most of it.)

XL alike loves being in HC’s arms. He loves listening to HC’s heartbeat while leaning back against him; loves feeling HC’s laughs reverberate against his chest.

Towards the end of the first movie, HC playfully pokes XL on the cheek. When XL turns his head around with an indignant expression, HC grabs his chin and places loving pecks all over those soft cheeks. XL instantly smiles, eyes curving into crescents from the affection.

HC quickly gravitates towards XL’s lips, pressing his mouth firmly against XL’s. Within seconds, HC’s grip on XL’s jaw tightens as he kisses his boyfriend with urgency, swiping a tongue against his bottom lip.

XL, gasping out a breathless: “Hmmph-! San Lngg-!”

Twenty minutes into their makeout session, the smoke alarm goes off. The couple breaks apart from the blaring beeping.

XL: “MY COOKIES-“ *leaps off of HC*

HC, winded as XL uses him as a springboard to jump off the couch: “OOF-“ *wheezes*

Raws:

XL IS SHORT ENOUGH TO NOT BE SEEN FROM THE BACK OF THE COUCH. HC’S FRAME COMPLETELY SHIELDS HIM.

XL IS SMOL COMPARED TO HIS TOL BF

HX saw the food and was like “yep, Xie Lian is definitely over, even if I can’t currently see him”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi for contributing/listening)

[djarinbarnes]

estoy caliente - javier peña

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

summary: taken in for ‘questioning’ after getting caught dealing information, you’re left with an ultimatum.

pairings: javier peña x female reader (just a little police au - not *fully* dea)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (reader is of age), drinking, smoking... mentions of drugs... office sex, javier’s dirty spanish, reader’s dirty spanish, maybe a little feels...

a/n: this is my first time writing for Pedro. don’t mind me! let me know how you liked it...😇 btw, I am not fluent in spanish. I took three years in high school and occasionally speak it today. let me know if there are any errors.

a/n v.2: the message reader delivers is code, just like the cartel used to use. translation: there’s an order on Blue (Friday) on 300k. I’m on my way back and the transaction is completed.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The music was blaring through the club, sweaty bodies moving against one another and drugs were scattered all over the tables. To say that the dealers were keeping a low profile would be an obvious and blatant lie.

It was easy to tell who was under the influence, when you weren’t under the influence yourself. Which made every other person in the club stand out to you as high off cocaine. You walked around the smokey, the stuffiness of the snug club making your insides churn with disgust.

Deliver the message and get out of there. Your mind was screaming at you as you looked around the club once more, sighing when you couldn’t find the man you were supposed to meet. The disco ball suspended from the ceiling blinded you for a short moment as it turned, casting off the lights of the differently colored projectors.

You bite your lip as you scout for poli, making sure to overlook every entrance and every exit. You know by now that having a quick escape is a favorable thing when dealing information. When your ‘date’ finally appears on the dancefloor, you relax your shoulders with a sigh of content. Finally, you were one step closer to getting out of there.

You make your way towards him slowly, making sure to let your presence be known, not to take him or his men aback. “Señores,” you smile and watch as your date dismisses them with a wave of his fingers.

His hands find your hips, pulling you close to divert attention from the two of you, now lost in the sea of dancing individuals. You wrap your arms around his neck, both your bodies starting to move together, following the rhythm.

You lean, grazing your lips along his jaw, all the way up to his earlobe. El azul tiene un pedido de 49 62 62. Estoy con mi esposa, viajando por Mercedes… His hands tightened on your hips, alarming you slightly. He had definitely picked up something you hadn’t. Before you could register anything, the music cut out, the sound of gunshots filling the air in its absence.

“Manos arriba!” you freeze in your spot as the loud voice booms through the club. You barely make time to notice what’s happening other than shots ringing around your ears, before you’re making your way out the back door, running light on your feet in the god forsaken heels you chose to wear.

“Stop!” you hear from behind you, along with pounding, following footsteps. You continue your sprint, though your lungs are close to giving in. Looking back over your shoulder, you see the shadow of him gaining in on you.

You yelp as you topple over, landing in a patch of grass by the side of the pathway you’d made your way down. He’s on you in an instant – whipping you around, locking the cuffs of metal around your wrists. He mutters out an apology, which you answer with a grunt.

The roundup in front of the club is painstakingly slow. If it weren’t for him, you would be in bed. Without him, though. So, you figured this was the middle ground, and as long as he was the one who took you in, you didn’t mind.

~

“Ow, fuck! Get your fucking hands off me!” you try twisting out of the firm grip around your upper arm. The short, tight skirt you were wearing combined with the heels you'd settled for, made it hard to stay upright with the power he was pulling you forward with. The handcuffs on your hands behind your back made that task impossible as well.

“Càllate, hermosa.” His breath was hot against your neck, his face not far from the back of yours. With a roll of your eyes, you came to a halt in front of a table, biting the inside of your cheek as you felt the handcuff on one wrist come undone, before the cop turned you to face him.

Out in the dark, you were barely able to make out his face, but you knew him by smell by now. Under the lights of the office you found yourself in, you could now clearly see his face. It was so familiar to you by now, with all the times you’d woken up next to him. And damn, if that face didn’t turn you on, who were you to call yourself a woman?

"Sé cómo podrías hacerme callar, hermoso." You boldly pushed your chest against his as he leaned against you, feeling his hands reach behind you. His proximity let you inhale his scent of tobacco mixed with whiskey, cinnamon and just the right amount of him. You were somewhat surprised about how close he was given your location, your body easily absorbing the heat of his.

You sighed as you heard the clicks of the handcuffs locking around a bar on the table, slouching against his body with a pout. "You're really gonna keep me locked to a table, Javi?" Your eyes followed him as he moved swiftly around the small office he'd taken you to.

He poked his head out of the door to the office shortly, before shutting the door with a kick of his foot. He watches you as he shrugs off his leather jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair, pulling his gun out of the back of his pants before leaning over a desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. You push yourself up on the table slightly.

"You're causing me quite a bit of trouble, loba." you watch as he pulls a chair in front of where you're now seated, eyes on your face like you're his prey. "It's the fourth time I’ve had you in here this week." You watch as he brings the bottle to his lips to take a sip, his lips under the moustache wet with the alcohol. "You're gonna need to pay rent soon."

"Only if I get to stay in here with you, Javi, papí." Leaning back on your hands you feel one of the straps of your shirt fall off your shoulder. “Oops.” With a tilt of your head, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Surely you can find someplace else for your partner.” You giggle as his eyes turn to the sky, damn well knowing where he could find you when he came home.

“Estoy caliente, Javi…” you tease, lifting your shoulder just enough to let the other strap fall off on the other side, completely baring your clavicles to him. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he’s taking another sip of the whiskey, setting the bottle down on the floor beside him.

"Puedo pensar..." you kick off one of your heels, sliding your feet up the back of your calf, "en algunas cosas sucias..."  the other heel follows the first one to the floor before leaning back, your free hand coming to the front of your skirt, lifting your hips to pull the hem up slightly, "que podemos hacer juntos..." you spread your legs lightly, showing him your glistening sex, "para pasar el tiempo."

Your heart leaps in your chest as you watch him swallow past a thick lump in his throat, his eyes still trained on your face. You let your eyes trail down your body, occasionally flicking up to meet his gaze. His teeth are chugging at his lower lip when he finally lets his eyes fall south, coming face to face with your pussy.

With a mere 3 feet between the two of you, the sweet smell of your arousal filled that gap quickly. "Sin bragas?” his voice has clearly dropped an octave, making your stomach flutter and your pussy clenches around nothing, faintly recalling the sweet pain he’d inflicted there that very morning. He raises one eyebrow before reaching back and pulling a cigarette out of one of the pockets on his jacket.

You nod slowly, watching as he lights the tobacco before leaning forward, propping his arms on his knees and resting his chin on the palms of his hands. "y ¿qué quieres que haga?" The cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth as he speaks, occasionally lighting up as he sucks the smoke into his lungs.

“Like I said.” You stretch out one of your feet, placing just under his knee, before softly moving it up the inside of his thigh. You watch him think over possibilities as your eyes move over his face, scanning the widened pupils, the bottom lip tugged in between his teeth in the opposite side of where the cigarette rests. “I can think of a few things.”

His fingers are gentle as he clasps your calf in his hand, caressing your sensitive skin gently. He moves just a bit closer on the chair, lifting your leg onto his, placing your foot on top of his thigh. His nose grazes against the inside of your knee, his breath hot against your skin.

He takes a long, last drag of the cigarette before twisting his upper body, stubbing it out into an ashtray. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, you know that right?” He exhales before turning back to you, the doubts written clearly across his face. His eyes dart to the closed door before he rises from the chair, stepping closer to you. “No one knows about us. I could lose my job…”

“Javi it’s close to four in the morning. You saw how many people were here when you brought me in. We’ll only get caught if…” his body is against yours in an instant, making you halt in the middle of your sentence. His hands are on your ass, gripping the pulp skin harshly, sure to leave marks in their wake.

His hips are pushing against yours, letting you feel the hardness of his cock through the rough denim of his jeans. His lips ghost over yours slightly, nose touching yours before traveling down to leave a butterfly kiss on your shoulder, mustache tickling your skin.

“If what?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear it, nonetheless. Your heaving chest flutters as his left hand runs along the outside of your thigh before caressing over the top of your skin, pushing your skirt up further. Your head is barely able to piece together a full sentence as his proximity overtakes you.

“I…” It’s shaky, trembling as the word spill from your lips. “We…” you let your head fall back as his lips attach themselves to your neck, sucking a bruise into the skin right over your pulse point, making you gasp. “Javi…” You can barely keep yourself up on your hands as his lips travel down, his hands roughly free your breasts from the shirt you’re wearing.

“No bra either? Dios mio…” You watch helplessly as his lips and teeth tug at your nipples, sucking hickeys into the pulps of your breasts. His hands are rough as they lift you slightly, pulling the skirt up and around your hips.

“Javi, take off my handcuffs…” you moan as he grinds his hips into yours, your arousal leaving a shameless wet patch against the fabric of his jeans. Your free hand travels between the two of you, unbuttoning his shirt with your fingers with a light struggle. You push the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor before unclasping his belt, popping the button on his pants and sliding the zipper down.

“No can do, hermosa…” With a frown you push his jeans down slightly, biting your lip as Javi pulls back just a little bit, letting you see the patch of pubic hair spilling over the opening in his jeans.

“Sin bragas, papí?” you tease with a bite of your lip, letting your hand run over the front of his stomach, before quickly letting them find their way into the front of his pants. Your hand wraps around the thickness of his length, the inhale of a breath getting stuck in his throat.

“Fuck.” There’s an uncertainty to whom of you had spilled the word, your eyes meeting briefly before your lips finally meet in a hard, bruising kiss. His tongue slides against yours as his hands push down his pants just far enough to let himself free.

“Can’t stand it when other men look at you.” He grasps his cock in his hand, swiping it through your folds before he pushes into you. His cock stretches you ever so deliciously, though the angle makes it difficult for him to fully push into you. With a flick of his wrists, your hips are angled to his liking and he’s sheathing himself fully into your heat. “All mine,”

With a wanton moan and a struggle of your left hand, your right arm clasps around his neck, whimpering as his hips ruts against yours. His hands dig finger-shaped bruises into your ass as he keeps a tight hold on your skin, groaning into your shoulder as his teeth sink into the muscle.

The drag of his cock against your walls is making your head spin, his strong hands holding you is turning you on so indescribably, his grunts of pleasure making you feel hotter like you’d ever felt before.

“Mm, ¿te gusta eso?” he whispers, drawing out the force of his thrusts and you whimper, your fingers intertwining in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He growls into your skin before coming up to face you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Sí, Javi!” you moan out wantonly, your tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He growls into your mouth as he picks up the speed of his thrusts, his hips slamming against yours animalistically, his hands holding your hips in place.

Your body jolts as his cock hits your insides perfectly, his thrusts encouraging moans from your lips. “You close, huh?” Javi groans into your mouth before sucking your lower lip into his mouth, biting and tugging at the tender flesh. You nod slightly, lip still trapped in between his teeth and you mewl when his fingers come into contact with your clit.

“Only I get to make you feel like this,” His hand briefly leaves your clit to come under your leg, fingers curling around the back of your knee as he lifts your limb up to rest on his shoulder. You let out a whine when he slides deeper into you, his cock hitting spots you didn’t even know you had. “Say it.”

Your moans are a whirlwind of yes, please and oh my god before his lips are against yours once more, silencing your whimpers from the undeniable pleasure the new angle is bringing upon you.

With the punishing pace of his unrelenting thrusts, you’re almost certain your soul leaves your body for just a short moment, as your orgasm crashes into you at full force. Your nails are painfully digging into the plump flesh of his shoulder as your cunt violently convulses around his length.

“Fuuuuuuuck..” Javi groans into your mouth as he stills deep inside of you, his cock pulsating ever so deliciously against your warm, contracting walls. His cum pumps through his shaft, coating your insides with the warmth of him, his breaths sharp and labored against your lips.

He pulls back slightly to look up at you, his arm lowering your now limp leg from his shoulder ever so carefully. His hands are soft against your skin as he caresses you, letting you come down from your euphoric high. He pulls out of your warm cunt, letting out a breath from the loss of contact.

You watch with hooded eyes as he pulls his pants back up, tucking himself back into the denim confinements before he pulls your shirt up over your breasts. He turns and grasps a few tissues to dry you off between your legs before helping you down from the table, pulling your skirt down to cover you.

On shaky legs you watch as he leans down and pull his shirt off of the floor, admiring him sliding his arms into the shirt before you watch him button it up, slowly leaning in to place another chaste kiss on your lips when he finishes.

“I don’t want you as an informant anymore.” He says as he turns, grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the table, before placing one between his lips. He turns back to you as he lights it, catching your dumbfounded expression, urging him to continue. He sighs as he looks down, holding out the pack for you.

You hesitantly take a cigarette for yourself, placing it between your lips watching him as he lights it for you. Javi knew you stopped smoking a while ago, yet he offered you one, just like when you started fucking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sit back on the table and watch him, inhaling the smoke deeply. You feel your fingers starting to tingle, letting you know the nicotine was doing its job properly.

“Me importas demasiado.” He bends down and grabs the bottle, unscrewing the lid before taking yet another sip of the strong alcohol. His hand comes up and straightens a furrow in his brow, sighing before approaching you again. His brown eyes are soft, warm, pleading.

His admission makes your exhale catch in your throat, making you cough harshly, and you grip the edge of the table to stabilize yourself. You look at him with wide eyes, not truly believing in his revelation. “Javi, you can’t just say something like that.”

The cigarette is back to your lips, your lungs inhaling the toxins greedily, trying to gain back control over the heart hammering in your chest. Javi steps around the table, finally freeing you from the handcuffs locked to the bar, and you grasp your sore wrist in your hand.

His warm hands find yours, taking a hold of your wrist. He brings it to his lips and kisses the angry red marks tenderly, making your heart flutter in your chest. That feeling – you’d felt it before.

Early mornings, the muted orange and pink light casting shadows on his tan skin. His lashes resting peacefully against his cheeks.

His warm eyes boring into yours when he’s on top of you, giving you the pleasure you so desperately longed for.

The safe place you found to be his apartment, the laughs, the longing looks. His lips against yours, whispering everything from the dirtiest words he knows, to the sweetest. The roughness, the softness.

That one time he let it slip, that one te amo that had knocked the air out of your lungs.

“Can’t live with myself if anything happens to you.” Your eyes find his and you feel your heart pick up the speed again. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. It was your one condition, and you’d broken it. How couldn’t you - seeing him like that, his tough façade gone...

Your hands came up to cradle his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as his eyes sought yours for something – anything at all. A few moments passed in silence, the only sound present was your breathing and a phone ringing somewhere in the distance. Javi sighed and let his eyes drop, biting his lip.

“Okay.” It was barely a whisper, but you know he heard it. His eyes shot back up to look at you, mouth slightly open… and then he kissed you. Soft, delicate. Just like the ones he would leave against your collarbones when he thought you were asleep.

[theoswriting]

lavender, honey and coconut (e.p. x fem!r)

summary:  Penelope Garcia can sniff out secrets like a cute security dog can sniff out drugs. y/n had been amused but had brushed off the warning. That had been her first mistake.

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

word count: 4k

a/n: okay, this is my first time writing for cm and emily prentiss, so I hope it isn’t too ooc! this is definitely a different vibe to the show lmao, i mostly wrote this to amuse myself, and then decided it might be worth sharing. I hope you’lll enjoy it xo (tell me if u do, i’m nervous)

warnings: some alcohol is consumed, light swearing

ao3

Penelope Garcia can sniff out secrets like a cute security dog can sniff out drugs.

It's a well-known fact that if you want to keep something hidden, one, you don't tell Garcia because she's incapable of keeping anything secret and two, don't breathe near her because she will be able to figure out that you're hiding something, and she will know which buttons to push to get you to spill everything.

Penelope likes to think that in another life, she would've made a great interrogator. In this life though, she uses her powers to get what she wants out of her friends.

This was one of the first things y/n found out when she joined the BAU. Derek spoke about the tech goddess' powers with reverence while the rest of them spoke of it with fear. Even Hotch seemed a little disconcerted by the whole thing.

y/n had been amused but had brushed off the warning.

That had been her first mistake.

***

Paperwork days were the worst.

y/n should probably love them more because if she's stuck behind her desk, it means that no one is out there getting brutally murdered. Still, it's a lot less exciting. It doesn't help that the bullpen is oddly quiet, everyone focused on their files. Spencer is going through his about a mile a minute, stopping from time to time to rewrite something or to look up some kind of information. Derek is slower and y/n can almost see the boredom oozing out of him. Yet, he doesn't look up when she looks over at him and keeps diligently going through his notes.

Finally, her eyes land on Emily. Her head is propped up on her left hand as she writes with the right. Occasionally, she will bite her nails as she focuses hard on part of her notes. y/n thinks she looks extra cute when she frowns, trying to understand her own writing. It makes y/n smile before refocusing on her own work.

y/n is almost done with one of her reports when she notices some missing information. She could easily look it up herself, but she's bored and this is the perfect excuse to get away from her desk for a bit. So she stands up, gathers her papers and walks to her favourite tech genius' lair.

y/n opens the door and sees Penelope's back turned to her. Before she can say anything, Garcia's voice rings out.

"Well if it isn't my favourite ray of sunshine, what can I do for you, y/n?"

y/n smiles at the blonde's greeting, as she sits down next to her, "Are you busy?"

"Not at all!"

"Great, I'm missing some information on this file, but most importantly, I'm in dire need of entertainment."

Garcia happily grabs the file from y/n and starts tapping away at her computer, putting up the information she needs on her screen in no time. She prints it all out and hands it to y/n with a flourish.

"Here's the info you need," She starts, but her eyes quickly turn regretful, "Sadly, I have no recent office gossip to entertain you with."

y/n pouts at that, "Damn, not even from Slutty David?"

Penelope shakes her head and opens her mouth to speak when she suddenly frowns at y/n. She pulls back slightly and y/n wonders if she'd forgotten to put on deodorant that morning. Penelope says nothing, just watches her.

"What?" y/n finally asks, unnerved by the staring.

"What are you not telling me?" Garcia asks simply and it's y/n's turn to frown. She can't think of anything that she might be hiding from her friend.

"Nothing?"

y/n is pretty sure that's the wrong answer and that Penelope is going to keep asking her questions until she confesses to something she didn't even know she was hiding. To her surprise though, Garcia only stares at her for a few more seconds before dropping it. As quick as it disappeared, her bright smile is back on her face and she goes back to telling a story.

It turns out that yes, she did have something to tell y/n about Slutty David.

y/n leaves Penelope about twenty minutes later with a refreshed brain, ready to get back to work. When she gets back to her desk, Emily looks up to give her a smile. y/n smiles back and winks at her as she sits down. Emily's smile broadens before she turns her focus back to the file in front of her.

y/n does the same, her smile staying even while going through an autopsy report. It's only hours later when y/n is almost done with paperwork that she freezes. She looks up at Emily and realizes.

That's what she's been hiding.

She frowns. There's no way Garcia knows that though, she and Emily have made sure, they've been careful.

Yeah, it was probably a fluke.

***

Mornings where she gets to wake up next to Emily are y/n's favourites. Even the early ones, when they get called in for a case, having Emily next to her makes it all easier.

That's what happens that morning, both of their phones going off at 5:45 am. Emily is the one to reach for her phone while y/n latches onto her and drops a kiss on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"It's JJ. We have to go in."

y/n nods and painstakingly opens her eyes. She drops another kiss on Emily's shoulder and turns away from her to get up, but before she can go too far, Emily reaches for her and kisses her. y/n scrunches up her nose even though she's smiling into the kiss.

"Morning breath. Gross," She manages to mutter against Emily's lips.

"Don't care."

y/n had wondered when they started dating if it would get to a point where it'd be too much to be together and then work together as well. Now, six months into their relationship, y/n knows she had worried over nothing. They have a system and boundaries. They keep the PDA to a minimum at work, which isn't a problem considering they had decided to keep their relationship a secret from the team. It's not that Prentiss and y/l/n don't trust their coworkers, it's more than they don't want to screw up the group's dynamics.

And it's also ridiculously funny to see how long it's taking a whole group of profilers to figure out that two members of their team are dating.

After getting dressed, y/n starts packing a new bag, taking clothes from the one drawer Emily had emptied out and gifted to her on their 2 months anniversary. Emily had a similar one at y/n's place. Considering their jobs and the amount of time they spent at each other's place, they figured it was smart to always have enough clothes at each other's place for instances like these.

Not even 10 minutes later, they're out of the door. They kiss one last time before Emily gets into her car and y/n gets into hers. As usual, y/n takes the long way to work, her place being famously further away than Emily's. So when she finally gets to the conference room, everyone is already there and waiting for Hotch.

y/n sits in between Derek and Spencer, "Good morning, my people!"

"It certainly is not," Hotch deadpans as he enters the room. y/n closes her mouth and nods to herself. She should've seen that one coming.

The others chuckle quietly, but the laughter quickly dies. Hotch was right. This is far from a good morning.

The murders are gruesome, the victims are all women which bear a striking resemblance to Emily. y/n doesn't bring attention to it, it wouldn't bring anything to the case except worry over a detail that isn't of much importance, at least not right now. Instead, she watches her girlfriend look at the pictures, and by the way her jaw clenches and unclenches repeatedly, she's come to the same realization.

"Alright everyone, wheels up in 20." Hotch dismisses them, and almost everyone rushes out of the room to get their bags. Garcia stays behind though, and so does Emily. y/n gathers her stuff slowly then, waiting for Garcia to leave the room so she can have a moment alone with her girlfriend.

Garcia doesn't leave, though.

She's staring at y/n ominously. She's missing a furry cat to be petting and she'd look like a supervillain from a cheesy action movie. y/n tries smiling at her, but the blonde doesn't respond in the slightest.

y/n leaves the room. She'll check up on Emily before take-off. She is big enough to admit that she was a little freaked out by Garcia.

She thinks nothing of it until hours later, when she's setting up their evidence board in a small town in buttfuck, Texas. JJ is standing next to her, writing the name of the second victim.

"Garcia has been asking about you."

It's such a weird thing to say that y/n is a bit taken aback. She pauses and slowly turns to look at JJ, "Uhm… Okay?"

JJ puts the cap on the pen and turns to y/n, her face probably too serious for whatever this is about.

"Remember when we told you about Garcia's weird ability to tell when someone is hiding something juicy?" y/n nods, still confused as to where this is going, "Well, she's smelt whatever it is that you're hiding."

y/n briefly wonders if no one is bothered by the constant comparison of Garcia to a literal hound dog, but apparently not. She lets out a small chuckle and nods at JJ, clearly not believing the warning tone the blonde had used, "Yeah, okay, I'll sleep with one eye open."

"y/n, I'm serious," JJ lowers her voice and looks around before confiding, "Penelope is the reason the whole team knows I had a one night stand with Slutty David."

"You had sex with Slutty David?"

JJ shudders, "Everybody makes mistakes."

***

y/n tells Emily about JJ's warning as they cuddle into bed that same night, exhausted from a day of leads getting them nowhere. To her surprise, Emily agrees with JJ.

"Garcia has a way of getting you to admit to things you thought you'd never say out loud."

The way she talks about it has y/n looking up from her very comfortable spot on Emily's shoulder to her girlfriend's face. She's staring off in the distance as if haunted by whatever it is that Garcia had dug up on her.

"What the hell did she find out about you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

***

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

It's Saturday night and they're out at a club for a Girl's night. After the case they'd had, they deserved a night to unwind. They've chosen a bar where the music is loud, but not loud enough to drown out Penelope's question. JJ and Emily are gone, lost somewhere in the crowd fighting for the bartender's attention, in search of more drinks. As y/n's brain finally processes what Garcia has just asked, she fights the urge to smile and look for Emily.

y/n has drunk enough to be on the dumb side of gay.

"Why do you ask?"

"Answering a question with another question, very telling," Garcia smirks.

Penelope seems oddly composed for someone who is two cocktails and three shots deep into the party. Usually, a drunk Garcia means sloppy kisses on the cheek and getting her away from attractive strangers before she can say anything overtly sexual or inappropriate. So something doesn't add up. y/n squints her eyes at the blonde in front of her, like that will somehow help her see things clearer.

It doesn't. Everything looks fuzzy and she probably should stop drinking.

"I'm not."

The lie tastes gross in y/n's mouth and if there's one thing that could make her feel better, it would be kissing Emily. Before she can stop it, a smitten smile makes its way onto her face. Garcia slams a hand on the table, making y/n jump. She focuses her eyes on Penelope who's pointing an accusing finger at her.

"There! Who did you just think about?"

y/n sputters, racking her brain for a more convincing lie but she can't stop smiling so she gives in. Damn her inability to lie when she's drunk.

"Okay, fine" y/n amends, "I am seeing someone, but please keep it quiet."

Penelope obviously does not keep quiet. Instead, she squeals loud enough that she startles a few people passing by their table. Of course, that's also the moment JJ and Emily pick to come back.

So when Garcia basically yells, "I knew it!" for the whole bar to hear, there's no way y/n is getting out of this one.

"Knew what?" Emily asks with a smile as she puts down a drink in front of y/n. She immediately grabs it, thinking that maybe if she blacks out, this conversation will also be erased from the history of the universe.

"y/n is seeing someone!" Penelope happily informs the two recently arrived. JJ whips her head, excitement filling her eyes, about a million questions fighting to be asked first. Emily, for her part, chokes on her drink.

"Why haven't you told us anything?" JJ says, her blue eyes even more glassy than usual, "Who is it?"

y/n shrugs, going for a nonchalant vibe. She goes with something vague.

"You don't know her."

Penelope's smile widens, "Oh, so it's a her."

Shit. Not vague enough.

What follows are a series of questions that y/n refuses to answer and thankfully, with Emily there to mediate, they manage to change the subject. Seriously, y/n could kiss her right then and there. Instead, she takes a sip of her drink and glances towards Emily. They decide to leave less than an hour later. JJ is about one sip away from taking her top off while y/n is just about ready to throw caution to the wind and start making out with Emily. To hell with consequences.

Penelope is still suspiciously acting sane.

"Oh, Pen, be careful, someone dropped their drinks right behind your chair."

JJ's heads up makes y/n glare at Garcia who looks a little too guilty.

***

When they get back to Emily's place, y/n barely waits until the front door is closed before kissing Emily. Emily welcomes it, blindly throwing away the keys to wrap both hands around her girlfriend's neck. The kissing is sweet, the taste of their last drinks still sticking to their mouths. It's a little messy due to the fact they're both smiling like two goddamn idiots in love. When they stop, Emily grabs y/n by the hand and drags her to the kitchen so they can both drink water to make their hangovers hopefully less painful in the morning.

They're almost done when Emily speaks.

"We have a problem."

y/n stops moving. She should've known this moment would come.

"Listen, if this is about the burnt toaster, I've already ordered a new one."

"Garcia- What?" Emily turns around to look at the spot where her toaster usually rests, "What happened?"

Realizing her mistake, y/n puts her empty glass of water down and wraps her arms around Emily's waist, "Nothing you need to worry about," Emily looks back at her girlfriend who looks too innocent, "What were you going to say?"

"Garcia knows you're with someone."

y/n nods slowly, wondering where Emily is going with this. She doesn't see any problems. Sure, Penelope knows that she might be sort of taken by a woman, but that's it. Even in her drunken state, she'd managed to keep any other incriminating details to herself.

"Garcia has a way of finding things out, it's only a matter of time until she puts two and two together."

Emily looks genuinely fearful and y/n wonders again, what kind of dirt Penelope had gotten Emily to disclose. She thinks back to JJ's warning as well. y/n turns it over in her head, but in the end, she scoffs and leans up to kiss Emily.

"Don't worry, babe. I'll make up a fake break up or something and we'll be fine."

Thinking she could fool Penelope Garcia so easily was y/n's second mistake.

***

Derek is getting himself coffee when y/n swiftly approaches him from the side.

"What secret did Garcia get out of Emily?"

"Which time?"

"There's more than one?"

"Oh yeah."

***

The whole thing with Garcia does make y/n and Emily reconsider telling the team, or at the very least, Hotch and HR.

They hadn't at first because of team dynamics, but mostly because they themselves were figuring out how they worked as a couple. It turns out they worked great, and hiding each other from their coworkers and best friends was getting a bit much for the both of them.

They wanted to show up at Rossi's dinner parties together without worrying about what their friends would think. y/n wanted to hold Emily's hand after a rough case on the jet without it being questioned, just as much as Emily wanted to drive with y/n to work every morning and walk into the building together.

So the next morning, Emily and y/n get to work before anyone else and walk into Hotch's office.

He doesn't have much of a reaction, not that they were expecting anything more.

What does surprise them is that, after giving them the whole speech about professionalism and whatnot, he smiles at them and says, "I'm happy for you both."

Aaron Hotchner smiles at them and y/n feels like her relationship has just been blessed by the angels from above.

***

"Hey, Spence? Do you know what Garcia dug up on Emily?"

"Emily sprained her wrist a few years back and told us that it had happened at the range. It turns out that she'd sprained it falling from her skateboard."

"Her skate- What?"

***

When y/n had told Emily they'd be fine, she wasn't being cocky, but she just knew that there was no way Garcia would suspect something with how careful they had been.

They never showed up together at work. At first, they always timed their arrivals carefully, until it became second nature. They were never overly affectionate with each other. If they needed to be comforted during a particularly hard case, they'd wait to be behind the closed doors of the hotel room they shared on most trips. As much as y/n wanted to, she never showed up to work wearing one of her girlfriend's sweaters, no matter how warm and comfortable they were.

Bottom line was, there was no reason for Garcia to suspect anything when their teammates who were literal profilers hadn't caught onto anything.

No one except Hotch knew. And only because they'd told him, so.

y/n should've known though, from being a profiler herself, that being too confident meant she was bound to slip up and make a mistake sooner rather than later.

It all happens very quickly.

JJ asks y/n if she can grab a couple of files she had left with Garcia and bring them back to her because she was waiting for someone to call and she couldn't go too far. y/n, of course, accepts, always happy to get away from her desk and the paperwork begging for her attention. She quickly knocks on Garcia's door before entering and the tech doesn't turn around as she greets her.

"Bonjour, Emily, what brings you to Casa Garcia today?"

y/n chuckles at the blonde's eccentricities, "Sorry, but you got it wrong, it's me."

Penelope rolls her chair around to face her and she looks truly distraught to have gotten it wrong, "But I always get it right. I'm the all-knowing Penelope Garcia."

y/n gently pats her shoulder as she reaches past her to some files she sees on the desk, "Are these JJ's? She asked me to get them for her."

Garcia nods, but she still looks defeated at having failed to guess her visitor's identity, so y/n tells her she'll come by later with some coffee for a chat. Penelope nods and turns her attention back to her computer and so she leaves.

It's funny, y/n thinks, that of all the people Penelope could have confused her with, it was Emily. Maybe some of Emily's fears had planted themselves into her brain unbeknownst to her because y/n suddenly feels very uneasy. Why did Pen think it was Emily walking in? Had she unconsciously started walking like her girlfriend? No, no, that was ridiculous. Emily had a very distinctive gate that was very different from y/n's.

Still, something is off. y/n trusts her gut, it has never failed her, and her gut is telling her something is off.

She doesn't know what though. She had woken up with Emily that morning and they'd actually had time to enjoy a nice breakfast together and had plenty of time to get ready together. In fact, they had even gotten to enjoy a very pleasant shower together. y/n smiles at that particularly good memory until she realizes.

"Shit," she mutters, but not quietly enough. She's standing in the middle of the bullpen, her coworkers' eyes on her. Before she can tell herself that it's fine, that she was just paranoid and that there was no way Penelope had noticed, she hears a familiar but hurried clicking of heels approach the bullpen. y/n turns around to see Penelope standing on the other side of the glass window and one look at her is all y/n needs.

She knows.

Before Garcia can make her way inside the bullpen and bring mayhem with her, y/n hastily makes her way to her. She drops JJ's files on her desk haphazardly under Derek, Emily and Spencer's bewildered eyes. When she gets to Penelope, she gently grabs her by the arm and urgently leads her away.

"You smell like lavender!" Penelope exclaims with no preamble, "You usually don't smell like lavender, you smell of honey and coconut, but never lavender and that's why I got confused!"

y/n confidently nods in greeting at an agent passing by Garcia's office as y/n shoves her inside. He looks unsettled but only smiles in return, preferring to ignore whatever is going on. Smart man.

"That's why I thought you were Emily! Because Emily is the one who smells of lavender!" Penelope is pacing while y/n stands with her back to the door.

"Okay, Pen, I need you to breathe," She says when the techie is still going on about lavender, honey and coconut.

"Breathe? How can I breathe when you and Emily are dating."

y/n thinks that's a bit dramatic, but Garcia has finally stopped pacing and talking. y/n slowly steps towards the blonde and puts both of her hands on her shoulders. She debates for a few seconds, wonders if she'd get away with a lie but at this point, y/n's pretty sure the cat is out of the bag.

"Yeah, Emily and I are together."

y/n should've been prepared for it, but when Garcia lets out a high pitched squeal, it still gets her by surprise. Her pained grimace is quickly chased away by laughter when Penelope hugs her with all the strength and excitement caffeine was providing her.

"This is so great, I'm so happy for you two!" She lets you go long enough to see the smile that's made its way onto her face. It's the same smitten smile she always gets whenever she thinks about Emily and Garcia honest to god pinches her cheeks, "Aww, look at that smile!"

y/n laughs and tries to get her cheeks away from anymore pinching. That's when the door opens enough for Emily to sneak her head in, "Hey you two, is everything okay?"

She looks at Penelope first, but her eyes end on y/n. Before she can say anything though, Penelope smirks, "Why yes, lover, everything is just fine."

At that, Emily gets in and closes the door behind her. She looks at y/n for confirmation.

y/n just nods, "Yeah, she knows."

"You bet your sweet ass I know!"

And with no further warning, Penelope tackles Emily in a hug much as she'd done with y/n minutes prior. When she lets her go, Emily steps closer to y/n, and with a hand on her lower back, she says, "I told you she'd find out."

y/n ignores the I told you so her girlfriend apparently couldn't wait to give her, but yeah, she's not wrong.

It'll teach her to ever doubt the abilities of the all-knowing Penelope Garcia.

***

Months and months later, y/n meets up with Penelope for brunch on a Sunday morning. Before she can even greet her, the blonde fixes her with a stare that is both strange but oh so very familiar.

"What are you planning?"

This time, y/n grins and tells Garcia not to worry, that she'll know in due time. After all, she can only hide the little velvet box in her coat pocket and its content for so long.

***

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 13

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Trigger Warning: There is a brief moment of physical abuse, it’s not much, but I definitely wanted to mention it and give a fair warning. 

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,383

A/N: I know you’ve all been on the edge of your seats wondering what was going to happen, the answer is a lot. This is a pretty big chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to my pre-reading babes, @jessiembruno & @txemrn. And to @twinkleallnight for my lovely moodboard! 

Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.

“Um...actually, it’s about the queen. Your majesty, you need to come with me, and we need to send some additional guards along with us.”

Liam’s face paled at Thomas’s words. “Where is my wife, Thomas?” He kept his voice quiet, so that he wouldn’t upset his daughter but his tone was stern and authoritative. 

“I believe she is at the old Fierro estate, and time may be of the essence.” 

“Li, go. We’re all here, we can take care of Eleanor.” Drake chimed in. 

Liam nodded. “Bastien, please send as many guards as you can immediately, and prepare the car for us. Thomas, go with him and tell him everything you know so that we can fill the team in.” Both men bowed and quickly exited the room. Liam walked over to Eleanor, sitting in the chair next to her. “Eleanor, I need to step out and pick up mommy, ok? Your auntie and uncles will be here to play with you until we get back.”

“Can I come with you?” She asked hopefully.

Liam took a deep breath before answering her. “I’m sorry princess, but I need to go by myself. But you have a very important job here. Since Valtoria is your home, you need to host our guests. Being a hostess is something you will need to do a lot when you become queen, so this will be wonderful practice. Do you think you’re up for it?”

She nodded her head rapidly. “Yes daddy, I will be the best hostess!”

“Good. Now go with Uncle Drake, and mommy and I will see you when we get home.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek as they pulled apart. 

Eleanor ran to Drake, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “C’mon Uncle Drake, I’m the hostess.” Drake chuckled before looking back at Liam and giving him a reassuring nod.

Liam waited a few moments to make sure that Drake and Eleanor were out of his path before rushing out of the room and toward the front entrance. The car was waiting for him, Bastien holding the back door open for Liam to enter. He jumped in and Bastien shut the door behind him, quickly jumping into the driver's seat. The SUV’s wheels squealed as it rushed toward the gates.

“How far out are the guards?” Liam asked. 

“We had a team training not too far from the estate, they should be arriving shortly. They have been briefed.” Bastien replied, looking at Liam through the rearview mirror. 

“Excellent. Would someone care to brief me now? Where is my wife?” Liam commanded. 

Bastien looked over at Thomas, who was seated next to him. “Thomas, please explain to his majesty the current situation.”

Thomas took a deep breath, his hands nervously balling into fists. “Of course. You see sir, there is an organization, the Via-”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, interrupting Thomas. “Thomas, please spare me. I know about the Via Imperii, Riley has been telling me about the meetings, the plans, everything.”

“Everything?” There was a slight crack in Thomas’s voice as he looked back at Liam. If she had told him everything, Liam knew who he was.

“Yes Thomas, everything, including our relationship. Right now, that is the last thing I am concerned with. I need you to tell me what they are doing to Riley, and what we need to do to get her out.”

“Unfortunately, I do not know much. I’m sure you were made aware of the conflict between her majesty and Lord Neville. Well it appears that he and Mara have lured her to the estate under the guise of a meeting with our chapter president. I don’t know what they are planning to do from there.” 

Liam’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair. “Bastien, remind me again why we didn’t dismiss Mara after her charge, the queen, my wife, was kidnapped at our wedding? It seems like grounds for termination to me.”

“She went through a thorough re-training process, and passed all of the associated tests. It was determined that she was able to adequately perform her duties.” Bastien replied. 

“Adequate is not acceptable for protecting the life of a Queen. We need exceptional as the bare minimum. She should have never been cleared to return to such a high profile duty. We will be having a meeting immediately to review protocol and standards.” The mixture of concern and rage swirling inside of Liam was becoming overwhelming, he was having trouble thinking straight. He turned to look out the window, taking deep breaths to regain some level of composure. 

***

“Since rational discussion is not going to be an option here, I guess we’re going to have to go to plan b, elimination.” Neville said to Mara as they sat across from each other, Riley tied to the chair at the head of the table. 

Riley laughed. “Sure, elimination. I bet that will work out great for you. It’s super easy to just make a reigning queen disappear.”

“We have been successful in doing it with two out of the last four queens. What do you think makes you so special?” Neville turned his attention to Riley, genuinely curious to know her reasons. 

“Well first of all, Eleanor was in on the plan, so she doesn’t count, so it’s actually one out of four. And second, I’m sure Liam and the rest of the guards, the loyal ones,” she looked poignantly at Mara, “are on their way. I’ve been gone long enough that Liam has definitely already had them ping the location of my phone.”

Mara pulled a phone out of her pocket and waved it in front of Riley with a smug grin on her face. “It has been powered off since I pulled it from your pocket as you were getting into the car.” She placed it on the table and slid it toward Riley.

“Any more smart remarks?” Neville asked, standing from his seat. He approached Riley, taking her face in his hand and leaning in close. “The fairytale is over Riley, and the ending isn’t quite as happy as you thought.”

Riley could feel her nerves starting to take over. Yes, Liam would be missing her right now, but how was he going to find her? She felt her heart rate increase, trying to keep her composure. She had been through this before. For as much as she hated Anton, she had to give him credit, he was much better at this than Neville was. If she could survive that, she could figure out a way out of this. 

She thought back to that night at the abandoned castle, she needed to channel that version of herself again. And she certainly couldn’t let Neville know he was getting to her. “What happened? You couldn’t find a woman to kiss you out of being a frog faced asshole? Or you did and it just didn’t work?”

“That’s enough!” the back of Neville’s hand abruptly met with Riley’s face, the force of the impact almost knocking the chair over. She moved her jaw back and forth several times, trying to assess the damage as best she could with her hands tied behind her back. “Mara, do we have anything to gag her with?” 

Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. Neville and Mara looked at each other in confusion, nobody else knew about the plan. “Well?” Neville raised his hands in frustration. “You’re the security guard, go assess the damn threat!”

Mara jumped to her feet and opened the door to find Eleanor on the other side. “Ah Mara, I heard you and Queen Riley had stopped by, I’m so glad I was able to catch you.” She didn’t wait for Mara to respond before brushing past her and entering the room. “Lord Neville, I didn’t know you would be using one of our meeting rooms today. You didn’t clear it through the proper channels. What have we got here?” Eleanor walked straight past Neville and went right to Riley. She took in her appearance, noticing a red mark on her cheek and a small trail of blood running down her face. Her eyes were watering, but she hadn’t shed a single tear. Eleanor was impressed by the strength she was showing under these circumstances. She gave Riley a subtle wink before taking a seat and motioning for Mara and Neville to do the same. “Now, should we talk about where you plan to take things from here, considering you clearly haven’t thought this scheme all the way through?” 

“We’re going to do what this organization has done for years, eliminate the threat. Maybe we will be more successful in the king’s next social season, and get a cooperative queen in place.” Neville replied.

Riley took a shaky breath, but the idea of her being taken away from her family was too much for her to bear. The tears she had been holding back broke free, and she began sobbing. Eleanor walked back over to Riley and knelt down in front of her. “It’s alright dear, you aren’t going anywhere.” She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before standing and turning her attention back to her captors. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much time and careful planning goes into enacting an elimination plan? You can’t just decide to kill the queen and expect that everything will go off without a hitch!”

As if on cue, the door burst open and several members of the King’s Guard entered with their weapons drawn. Mara immediately drew her weapon and aimed it at Neville. “Hands in the air, Lord Vancoeur.”

“Drop the weapon Mara.” One of the guards commanded.

Mara continued acting as if she was assisting in the rescue efforts, ignoring the guard’s warning. “I’m glad you guys got here, I was having trouble calling for backup to save the -”

A loud pop filled the room, Riley flinched, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Mara laying on the ground in a pool of blood as two guards rushed Neville and took him into custody. Two more pulled Eleanor away from Riley and forced her hands behind her back. “Stop!” Riley ordered, causing both guards to look up. “She is not a part of this, she was here rescuing me. Let her go.” The guards complied, and Eleanor went back to Riley’s side, quickly undoing the fastenings that bound her to the chair. As soon as she was free, Riley stood and rubbed each of her wrists before raising a hand to her face, gently placing it on the spot that Neville had hit, and moved her jaw back and forth a couple more times. She looked at Eleanor, her eyes welling up again. “You...you saved me.”

“Of course, dear. I told you I wouldn’t let them take you away from your family.” Riley wrapped her arms around Eleanor and pulled her into a hug. Eleanor could hear her hitched breathing and knew she had begun to cry. “It’s ok Riley, you’re safe now. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

***

Liam was lost in his thoughts, watching the scenery go by as they neared the estate. The sound of Thomas’s phone ringing took him out of his thoughts. He quickly moved his attention to the front of the car, listening intently to Thomas’s answers to the person on the other end. They were simple, one word answers, and he was unable to read any kind of emotion in his voice. “Well?” Liam said, before Thomas had even fully moved the phone away from his ear. “Is Riley ok?” The seconds it took to get his response felt like an eternity for Liam. 

“Yes your majesty, Riley is safe. Lord Vancoeur has been taken into custody, and Mara was killed. Queen Riley is safe and awaiting our arrival.” 

Liam breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his seat. He was glad she was safe, but he needed to get there. He needed to see it for himself, to hold her, to kiss her. He needed to get her home where he could protect her. 

The car pulled up to the front of the estate, and before it could come to a complete stop, Liam had jumped out and ran to the door. He burst into the estate frantically sticking his head into every doorway looking for her. Finally, he approached a large sitting area with a fireplace running, and there she was, silently watching the flames dance. “Riley? Love?”

Riley blinked a couple of times before turning and meeting Liam’s gaze. “Liam…” her voice was barely above a whisper as she slowly stood to greet him. 

He rushed to her, immediately pulling her into his arms. He held her tightly as he kissed the top of her head. He pulled back, taking her face in his hands. The pressure of his touch on her still tender cheek made her wince in pain. Liam removed his hands and examined her face. “Riley, who did this to you?” He tried to keep calm, not wanting to cause her any more stress or pain.

“Stupid fucking Neville. I made some frog prince joke and he decided to heckle me with the back of his hand.” 

Liam clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. He would deal with Neville, but for now, he needed to be with his wife. “Riley, I am so sorry that you had to go through this. I should never have let you do this. It could have been so much worse.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, he noticed the marks on her wrist from the restraints, and turned his head to kiss them softly. “But it’s not, because Eleanor, your mother, saved me.”

“My...why would she do that?”

“Because I couldn’t let you lose her.” A lump formed in Liam’s throat at the sound of the voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he had never forgotten it. He turned around and as soon as they locked eyes, he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “Hello, Liam.”

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[babbushka]

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.2)

–      A Lawyer AU      –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5.8k, cw: mentions of murder, NSFW: PIV, fingering, biting/marking, possessive hate-fucking]

Available on AO3

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

It feels as though the world has stopped. Time and space have come to a standstill, as you stare at him. Slightly, ever so gently, you pinch the back of your thigh because surely this must be a dream. You must have slept through your alarm – he’s not really there behind that pane of glass.

He can’t be.

Kylo smiles at you, an exhausted sort of smile, like he hasn’t slept in days. He shrugs his shoulders, too broad for the jumpsuit they’ve put him in. You pinch yourself again, but the sting of pain doesn’t jolt you awake in your bedroom, and so before you can do anything at all, you calmly hang the phone up on the wall and turn to the guard that has escorted you to this room, demanding with as much professional conviction as you can muster:

“Get me a private room with my client.”

There were perks to being this high up on the food chain, as it were. Not only did everyone know you, but they mostly trusted you. Trusted you enough to lead you down a hallway and around a corner, nothing but bleak grey and off-white walls passing you by, linoleum under your feet. You recognize these rooms from your previous dealings with Rikers, but never in a million years – a billion years – did you ever fucking think you’d be in one of these with Kylo.

He’s wearing orange, neon and bright. A number is splashed across the back in black paint, and you hate it. You hate him so fucking much, hate how he could have been so stupid to get himself in here. The second the guard closes the door, you’re crossing the small room to get close to him.

Kylo misinterprets your meaning, and as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, anger flares up through you and you can’t help yourself from doing what your first instinct had been – smacking him across the face.

“Hey!” Kylo scowls, eyes snapping open as he brings his cupped hands up to his cheek to soothe the stinging skin.

Immediately you are on the prowl, stalking him around and around the room.

“What the fuck did you do?” Your breath comes in harsh pants as your mind reels with the implications of why he’s here, “I ignore you for two fucking days and you wind up in jail? Are you insane?”

“Sweetheart – ” Kylo puts his hands up in front of his face, trying to deflect another irritated smack, but you only swat at his hands instead, before clenching your jaw and practically backing him into the corner of the room.

“No, fuck you! You don’t get to call me sweetheart. I’m supposed to be in a meeting right now getting a goddamned promotion and instead I’m sitting here with some dipshit who couldn’t handle his liquor?” Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair.

“Would you just listen to me -- ?”

“Let’s see, what did you in? Was it that big mouth of yours? I saw the photos in the paper, you looked like you were yelling at them. Kylo you know better than to provoke already pissed off cops!”

“They’re charging me with murder.”

Kylo’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and the air rushes out of your lungs. You remain frozen exactly where you’re standing, your noses nearly touching, your hands fisted in his orange jumpsuit like you’re some schoolyard bully about to lift him off his feet to demand his lunch money.

Your hands only clench tighter in the scratchy rough fabric, but for the first time in a long time, it isn’t anger that spikes through you, it’s fear.

“Excuse me?” Is all you can manage, your eyes searching his, knowing that if he’s joking, you’ll knee him so hard in the balls that the Skywalker bloodline will end with him.

He holds your gaze steady, and your throat closes because he’s telling the truth.

“In the first degree.” Kylo replies, and only then do you release him, your mind spiraling.

You move to sit down at the table in the center of the room, missing the way his hands reach for you. Head pounding, you point at the chair opposite the table. Kylo sits without a word, his face drawn in a frown, his teeth grinding. You’ve always reminded him not to do that, to unclench his jaw and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, but you find that you’d be a hypocrite to say that now.

“Who?”

“My grandfather.”

“Did you do it?”

Kylo reacts to that question like you’ve slapped him again – he recoils physically from it, nose scrunching up as he bares his teeth at you like some wild thing, so very unlike the Prosecutor you knew. This must have really rattled him, and you’re almost sorry for asking, but it’s a question you have to ask nonetheless.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kylo hisses, “Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

“Yeah, I did.” You reply, repeating yourself with a level, “Did you?”

“No I didn’t fucking kill my own grandfather.” He scoffs, “I’m being framed, obviously.”

You can’t help but let a small smile begin to creep up at the corner of your mouth, only Kylo could say something with that much gravity so flippantly. You look at him, and he looks at you, really looks at you. In all the years that you’ve known Kylo, you don’t think you’ve ever really looked him in the eye for very long, one of you always pulling away after a moment.

But now, in the quiet of this private room, there is nothing stopping you from staring at him for as long as you’d like. His eyes are brown, but they’re a strange sort of brown, the kind that looks light from within under the fluorescents. Even in the ugly color of the room and the jumpsuit, he’s handsome, something you positively abhor him for. It shouldn’t be fair, for a prisoner to be so handsome, you think.

You’re reminded briefly of that morning, when he brought you croissants with the jam that you like, when the two of you chuckled softly in the light of morning and kissed the fruity flavor of raspberries and the sweet snap of chocolate off one another’s lips.

God, how you fucking hate him.

“Can you prove that you’re being framed?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” He whispers back, looking too vulnerable for your liking as his eyes shine, as he clasps his hands in front of you and says something that you never thought would come out of his mouth, “Will you help me?”

Part of you wants to say no.

Part of you wants to pound your fist on the table and leave, because dammit you should be thrilled about this. Kylo is the man who has caused you more stress than anything in your life, more than the LSATs or the BAR, more than the first time you ever stepped foot in a courtroom, even more than that time you had been chosen to speak at your cousin’s wedding. He is the only person you have ever lost a case to, he is the only person who has ever broken your win streak and your resolve, and he gloats about it.

You should be gloating about this, you should shove this right in his face the way he shoves everything into yours. Instead, you sigh, try to calm your frazzled nerves, and in a halfway defeated voice ask, “When’s the preliminary hearing?”

“Already had it – plead not-guilty, it’s going to trial and bail is set at a million dollars.” Kylo shocks you by answering, and you frown at him.

“You already had the preliminary hearing?” You suddenly feel very small, almost offended by that. Having the hearing meant he technically already had representation, especially if he already got a trial motion and a bail, which means he asked someone before he asked you.

“Well someone wasn’t answering her fucking phone!” Kylo can sense your mood shift at once, and he rushes to say it before you can even get your mouth opened fully to scoff,

“If you already have a goddamned lawyer then why are you wasting my time – ”

“Do you think I want your help?” Kylo snaps, once again sucking all the air out of your lungs as his face gets red, as his teeth bare once again, the vein in his neck thick and pulsing. “You think I want you to see me like this? You think I want you to have enough to gloat about for the rest of your life? No, so I’d appreciate it if you’d not be such a bitch about everything for once.”

“Why am I here, Kylo?” You whisper, wondering who is representing him. It’s probably his cousin, Rey, or maybe his business associate, Hux.

You want to fight him on it, but at the end of the day he would be right. You didn’t answer his calls.

Kylo looks away, a deep crimson blush blooming angrily across his face. It splotches over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, as he lets out a pent up breath in a deep sigh that has his shoulders sagging.

“Because you’re the only person I trust to do this right.” He says truthfully, even though he hates himself for it, “You’re the only person who can. This is the rest of my life that’s at stake, I need the best attorney I can get, and that’s you. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Kylo wasn’t one to give out declarations like this, compliments like that. You decide not to push the issue, not now anyway, when you’re both clearly in such a bad mood.

It’s hard seeing him like this, hard thinking of him as anything other than the pain in your ass that he was. He wasn’t just Kylo now, he was a client, a high profile client with a murder charge sitting heavy on his shoulders. And you’re the only one he trusts to help him.

“Did you post bail?” You ask, knowing he has that kind of money.

“I’m working on it, it should be in sometime today.” He replies with a nod, and you nod back.

Getting up from the chair in the table, you bite at your lip. Kylo does the gentlemanly thing and stands out of respect for you, before taking a few measured steps over to you. He looks around, makes sure there’s no cameras hidden in the space, makes sure there’s no one watching.

Very carefully, ever so slowly, he leans forward and closes his eyes, his nose gently rubbing against yours. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t, not here, not while he’s in custody like this.

“When you’re out, and whenever you’re ready, give me a call.” You whisper, and he smiles one of those cheshire cat grins of his that show off all his crooked teeth.

“Will you answer this time?” His lips ghost over yours, just barely, just a hint.

“I’ll answer.” You pull away, leaving him huffing and puffing and frustrated.

Good, you think. Let him be frustrated, if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that this case was going to age you nearly a decade from the looks of it – and you didn’t even know anything yet. Just knowing it was Kylo that the world is up against is enough.

You gather your things and brush past him to the door, knowing you’ll be seeing him again very soon, possibly even that evening, depending on how quickly the process his bail. Maybe you’d put in a good word with the office for him, get him a little higher on the priority list.

Giving the door a gentle knock to let the guard know you’re finished, the two of you wait as the locks shift and turn.

“And for the record,” You say, when the door swings open and they begin to usher Kylo back to his holding cell, you look him dead in the eye and swallow your pride to tell him, “I would’ve taken your case no matter what.”

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

Neisha is waiting for you with a fresh cup of coffee in one of those disposable paper cups, and even though it tastes like shit, it’s still a calming balm on your nerves. You thank her for it and the two of you sign out through visitation, walking the way you had come to go back to the car.

“Who was it?” She can’t help but ask, curiosity in her voice.

“Who do you think?” You groan, downing another gulp of the watery caffeine, “Our favorite asshole.”

Neisha stops in her tracks at that, surprise written all over her face. Part of you wonders how she hadn’t recognized his voice over the phone, but then again, maybe you were the only one who cared enough about the deep baritone of his to notice it.

“No way!” Still, she’s shocked, and that shock turns to confusion almost at once, “He wound up in Rikers over a DUI?”

You sigh, and shake your head, chugging the rest of your coffee. You used to down two pots of the stuff a day in law school, and now nothing ever seemed strong enough. Even chain coffee didn’t hit right anymore, everywhere either burned their beans or under brewed, it was a mess. A million coffee shops in Manhattan and the only good cup of joe was the kind Kylo made for you. The bastard.

“If only it were that simple.” You chew on your lip, the two of you finally approaching the company car that’s been waiting for you the whole time. “Do you want to stop anywhere on the way back to work? Part of me is dreading facing Holdo.”

“She’s called you three times.” Neisha winces, holding out your phone for you to take. You had to leave it behind before going back to see your client, and so of course you left it with her.

“Voicemail?” You almost are too afraid to ask, but you bite the bullet anyway.

“One.” She confirms, and you groan.

“Great.”

“Are you going to listen to it?” Neisha raises a brow while she watches you slip the phone into your purse, decidedly choosing to ignore it in favor of finding a better cup of coffee somewhere.

“No.” You chuckle, explaining, “We’ll be back soon enough, if she’s going to bitch at me, I want it to be in person where I can bitch back.”

“Maybe we can pick up lunch for everyone.” She suggests cheerfully, “No one can be too mad when you’re bringing them food.”

At just that moment, your stomach growls, and you cast a glance up to the sky wondering how you ever got so lucky to have a mind-reader as an assistant. She only smiles at you, and you smile back, letting her know, “I love the way you think.”

In the end, you decide to skip out on the rest of the day of work entirely. By the time you and your assistant had ordered and picked up food for the office, it was almost three o’clock, and you knew that there was no point in trying to get anything done when you had already been scheduled to leave at five. Mondays were a waste of time as it were, you decided you’d just go in early and stay late tomorrow to make up for the time.

Giving your assistant the rest of the day off too, you retreated back to your apartment and tugged your clothing off. You had a strict rule about keeping outside clothes away from your bedroom, and it was a relief to change into something less professional and far more comfortable. Not quite pajamas, because it was early enough in the day still and you weren’t completely giving up on the evening just yet, but still comfortable.

You wondered what Kylo would change into when he got home, wondered if he’d take a long hot shower, or a deep soak in the tub to scrub prison off of him. He hadn’t been there long, but it didn’t take long to shake a man up, even a man as tough as Kylo. Guilt ate at you inside, if only you hadn’t been so stubborn, and adamant in your misery to ignore the world…maybe you could’ve sweet talked the judge into letting him stay on house arrest or something.

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe Kylo never would have gotten himself drunk and angry, driving around town and getting himself arrested. Not that you could really blame yourself for that, you were perfectly in your rights to be pissed off with him for winning against you. And if he was framed like he says he was, then they would have had a warrant for him anyway.

But still, it eats at you.

You groan, smacking a hand to your forehead – the DUI isn’t going to look good to a jury, not at all. Especially if the police think the murder happened that day, that was going to cause him trouble, and by extension, you. He needed to have a rock solid alibi, and as much as you hated it, if he was so plastered as to get pulled over, he might not remember where he was or what he was doing. That was going to give him trouble too.

Speak of the Devil, you can’t help but think, as your phone rings. You pick it up right on the second buzz, recognizing the caller ID and smiling to yourself about it.

“Kylo?” You say stupidly, because you know who it is. You just like to make sure, want to know that it’s him.

“Hey sweetheart, go outside.” He answers, and you frown, your heart-rate spiking.

“You have a key, let yourself in.” You scoot over on the couch enough to peek out through the living room window, looking down the ten stories to see his shiny black car indeed parked on the curb, flashers on.

“No, it’s just my car, we’re going out to dinner.” Kylo chuckles, and you frown.

“Right now?” It was barely half past four o’clock, it wasn’t even time for the early bird dinner specials yet at most of the diners around the block.

“Right now, put on something nice.” He instructs, before hanging up.

You blink in surprise for a few seconds, before springing into action. Curse that insufferable man! If only he could think far enough in advance to warn a woman before sending the car, you bounce the thought around in your head. You quickly brush your teeth while you step out of your sweatpants, tug the t-shirt over your head.

Wondering what the world record is for getting dressed for a surprise dinner date, you throw on something elegant, really dressing to the nines. Not having much time to do anything with your hair, you put it up in a style that you hope looks purposefully messy as opposed to just sloppy, and you clasp on subtle yet expensive jewelry.

You almost wish you had timed yourself as you spray a few squirts of perfume, slip on some heels and dash out the door, grateful for the fact that you live in an upscale enough apartment that you don’t have to worry about getting your shoes caught in the grates of a stairwell, taking the shiny polished elevator for a ride.

Kylo’s driver is waiting for you next to the car, and when he sees you, he straightens up his posture, squares his slim shoulders. The kid wasn’t more than nineteen or twenty, but he was nice, and you knew he was family, and it was always a pleasure to see him.

“Hi Dopheld, it’s been a while.” You smile at him as he opens the back door for you, giving you a hand to balance yourself as you securely settle in.

“Hey (Y/N), how have you been?” Dopheld is soft spoken and kind, a very gentle soul. How he manages to deal with Kylo’s road rage, you’ll never know, but you’re glad that it’s him picking you up and not his boss.

“Better than you I bet.” You chuckle as he closes the door and rounds the car. When he’s back in his driver’s spot and pulls out onto the road, curiosity gets the better of you so you ask, “Where are we going?”

“Del Frisco’s, you know Kylo.” Dopheld’s eye meets yours in the rearview mirror, and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“That man and his steak, oy.” You mutter to yourself with a roll of your eyes, admiring your reflection in the glass of the window.

“Well you can’t blame him, he’s been eating prison food for the past four days.” Dopheld shudders at the mere thought of it, and you sigh.

“He really was in there all weekend, huh?” You feel that guilt again, it rises like acid up into your throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, it was all over the news.” Dopheld’s eyebrows raise, and you sigh.

“I uh,” You clear your throat, trying to find some way to not tell this kid that you threw something of a temper tantrum over losing your case, “I didn’t really pay much attention to anything these past few days.”

Somehow, even though you didn’t say it, Dopheld seems to know anyway.

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

Del Frisco’s is a real swanky place just shy of Times Square, and undoubtedly one of Kylo’s favorite places to eat. He’s got a host of restaurants he likes, but there’s something about a well-cooked steak that can’t be beat, he’s told you this too many times. Just about every time he’s had a steak at Del Frisco’s, anyway. It’s a three story tall building, and a dress code, and if there was one thing Kylo loved more than steak, it was an excuse to put on his expensive suits, his nice shoes.

He hasn’t said so, but you have a sneaking suspicion he likes an excuse to see you all dolled up too, which is just what you are, as you step out of his car at five o’clock on that Monday in January, bundled up in a coat that you can’t wait to dramatically remove in front of him.

“I’m meeting a Mr. Ren.” You say quietly to the host, who recognizes both you and the name you give her at once.

“Right this way.” She invites you further into the restaurant, up a flight of stairs to a secluded corner of the floor that overlooks the main level.

Kylo stands when he sees you, looks utterly mesmerized by you. Good, you can’t help but feel pleased, you like the attention, like the way he gives it to you. He’s pulled out all the stops himself as it would seem; a custom tailored Gucci suit in rich brown, with deep green and burgundy stripes running down the length of it that makes him look impossibly taller than he is.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if all your teasing about his solid black suits day in and day out finally got through to him. He wears a beige turtleneck underneath for warmth, and his hair is smartly styled. You want to run your fingers through it, want to muss him up for all the trouble he puts you through.

“I like you better like this.” You say teasingly, playfully, “Orange isn’t your color.”

“I like you better like this too,” Kylo chuckles back, carefully slipping your fur coat off your shoulders, revealing the dress that hugs your body and shows off all the assets you’re proud of, “When you aren’t smacking me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” You smile, taking a seat opposite him at the small circular table.

“Thank you for coming.” Kylo says, and you roll your eyes.

“You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” You point out, he gave you no notice at all, no option to opt out, not that you would have.

Sitting across from you, you can feel the way his shiny polished dress shoe nudges up against your heel, a purposeful invitation that you pretend to ignore just to rile him up. You like getting him annoyed, just as much as he likes annoying you.

“No, but you do always have one.” Kylo pours you a glass of something bubbly, and hands it to you with a soft, “You look lovely.”

“I already agreed to take your case, Kylo, you don’t have to lay it on thick.” You shake your head, accepting the glass. He was so charming, too charming for his own good. This was how he wound up in situations like being charged for murder, that charm of his.

“Maybe I want to.” Kylo shrugs, “Maybe I missed complimenting you.”

“Go ahead then.” You lean back against the chair for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest, an eyebrow raised.

“I love when you wear this dress, your body is dynamite in it.” He settles on, “Makes my mouth water.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the steak talking?” You take a sip of the drink, and he groans in the back of his throat, ripping a piece of fresh bread off the loaf and dipping it into a small plate of oil.

“Remind me never to go to jail again.” He mutters, “Imagine spending the rest of your life there.”

“No thanks to you, too many of my clients don’t have to imagine, now do they?” That strikes a nerve in you, and you’re suddenly reminded of the way the last case really went down, the implications for that poor man, probably in Rikers himself for a crime he didn’t commit.

“Hey – ” Like lightning, Kylo reaches out and grabs your wrist, preventing you from getting up and leaving, afraid of you bolting away, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You blink, stunned.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He rushes to say, “I’m sorry. But you have to know that I’m only doing my job, when I do that. Same way that you do yours when you let guilty men walk free.”

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you…about anything. You’ve known him for years and years, and this is the first time he’s ever uttered those words. Jail must have really fucked with him, if he’s apologizing to you.

“I know, but it still sucks.” You eventually say, not moving your hand at all.

“Stay with me? Have dinner, I already ordered.” Kylo licks his lips, eyes dark, glittering.

“Most women don’t like you assuming their order.” You find it important to mention.

“You’re not most women.” He counters, and well, you can’t deny him that.

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

Hours later he’s stumbling with you through the hallway of his apartment, kicking his shoes off and unclasping your gown desperately, kissing you deeply, his nose bumping against yours as he hungrily sucks on your tongue, hands groping at you. You lead him to the bedroom, your eyes closed, going off intuition alone.

It’s dark in the apartment, the lux lavish thing, rent probably four times what you pay for your already expensive place. No, knowing Kylo he owns the fucking penthouse, that’s just like him, isn’t it. You smack into a wall accidentally, and he laughs, and you laugh too, before you’re both moaning, trying with all your might to get into his bed.

“I’m not doing any of the fucking work tonight.” You gasp and moan against his mouth as he shoves you down onto the mattress, wrenches your legs open with his warm broad palms.

There’s a fireplace in his bedroom that he turns on with the press of a button, filling the room with an ethereal quality that bathes you both in an orange glow.

“When do you ever do any of the work?” Kylo grunts against your throat as he kisses down down down the length of your body, his hands kneading in the flesh of your thighs. You’re too desperate to come to snap back at the remark, so you let it slide, especially as he begins to shove two fingers into your cunt, thick and hot, “Let me take care of you, just take it, I know you can take it sweetheart.”

You squirm under the intrusion, too tight. Trying to relax for him, you breathe deeply, your voice shaky shuddery on the exhale. Already your toes are curling as you let your head fall back against his pillow, your back arching as he stretches you open, determined and focused to bring you pleasure, to get you ready for him.

Kylo sucks on your hip, at the spot where your thigh joins it, that crease there that he loves to run his tongue over over over, his thumb rubbing rough circles on your swollen clit. He pulls back enough to spit on it, right on your pussy, not that you need any help, you’re practically dripping for him.

“Kylo, fuck, forget it just give me your cock.” You grow impatient, shifting your hips around, nudging the side of his jaw with your knee when he leans up to look at you.

“You sure?” He’s transfixed with the sight of his own fingers disappearing into your folds, but he’s already pulling out, his cock hard and heavy, aching and throbbing for the hot wet tightness of your cunt.

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me, fuck me hard?” You pat at his shoulder, and he nods, scrambles up your body and covers you like a blanket, warm and wide and strong. If he weren’t such a fucking asshole, you think you might like him.

But that’s not what this was, this was something you both agreed on a long time ago – a no strings attached arrangement, fucking out frustration and pent up aggression that otherwise was exploding all over the courtroom. This wasn’t anything more than an excuse to relieve some tension, since you two were the only people in your caliber, the only two you could trust to do it right and not mess anything up.

“I fuckin’ missed this pussy, missed the way she stretches for me, god you look so good getting stuffed full.” Kylo moans as he presses the head of his cock through your folds, chasing the heat.

Your pussy sucks him in, swallows him down as it clenches around him, your body thrumming with pleasure as he bottoms out in one swift thrust. You egg him on, throw your arms around his neck and pull him down close close close, your mouth open for him to kiss.

“Oh!” You gasp when he starts to thrust in earnest, grabbing the headboard for leverage as he rails you hard, “Yes, right there! Come on give me more!”

His dick drags against your gspot perfectly, and your legs lift to wrap around his waist, holding on to him tightly, your hands scratching up his shoulders. He is relentless, dangerous, dark with his desire as he makes your mind white out, makes your vision go spotty as he shakes shakes shakes the bed, the frame creaking and groaning under your sweaty bodies.

“Greedy whore, that’s what you are isn’t it? My greedy girl. I bet you missed my cock, didn’t you?” Kylo grunts, grabs a hold of your jaw with one of his hands and sticks his fingers in your mouth, leans down to kiss your cheek. He bites at it, bites at your face like an animal and you lose yourself in the pleasure of being so consumed.

“No,” You lie, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing you got yourself off angrily to the thought of him, not wanting his ego to get any fucking bigger than it already did.

Kylo doesn’t buy it for one second, he licks up your cheek, licks away the sweat that drips down your temple, suckles it off of the dip in your throat, the space between your tits. He bites and sucks at your breasts as he fucks you hard, as he pushes you up up up the mattress, until you have to throw your hands against the headboard and push back down so you don’t smack your head.

“Bet you thought about it every fucking day like I thought about your tight cunt, damn you’re wet.” Kylo groans, his voice muffled as he buries his face between your cleavage, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside your pussy, the pleasure making your shoulders pinch in, your knees and thighs shake, body starting to convulse.

“I did not!” You lie lie lie, “Believe it or not but you don’t consume my every waking fucking thought, you know.”

“Don’t I?” Kylo pushes, drops a hand back down to your clit and brings you to the edge, painfully hot white sparks dancing through your nerves.

“No!”

“No?” His voice is dangerously sweet, charming, handsome. You hate him, fuck he’s so handsome.

“Fuck you – yes, okay! Yes!” You glare at him with a deep frown, frowning while he grins with all of his teeth, until your eyes are rolling back into your head and your toes curl and your body snaps up with tension as you come and come and come, “Oh yes, Kylo, yes right there, right there…!”

You let out a strangled shout of his name as your orgasm hits full force, and Kylo grins like the cat that got the cream as he comes inside you, collapsing down onto your chest. He’s too heavy though, and he knows that, he knows because you tell him all the time, so he rolls over to a spot that isn’t sticky, pulls you with him so you’re both resting on your sides.

Kylo doesn’t dare pull out, and if he gets his way, he won’t until morning. You’re too tired, too well fucked to challenge him about it, even though you know you really should go to the bathroom, at the very least.

You’re both breathing hard, heartbeats pounding together, until eventually, somehow, inevitably, your lungs and hearts sync up in a slow even rhythm, breathing in and out together in the quiet of the night. The fireplace flickers gently across from the bed, making shadows dance across Kylo’s face as he leans in to rub his nose against yours.

“Let me kiss you?” He whispers, a strange sort of vulnerability you don’t want to deny.

In the morning, you’ll grill him about everything that happened over the weekend, exactly what the charges against him are from, as much as he knows. In the morning, you’ll yell at him and hate yourself for taking on what is going to be probably one of the toughest cases of your career.

But for now, you shuffle as close to him as you possibly can and crane your head up to make up for the height difference from where your bodies are still joined, and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him, until you both fall asleep.

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

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Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this story, please feel free to leave a comment or send an ask! :)

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @groovetoob @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @cornmousequeen @theinfinitenerd @themeanestlittlewitch

[spacedikut]

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

[kopikokun]

Snack Run with a Snack༄ j.jh

↳ On your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. You’re a little peeved, but at least Jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

pairing: idol!jaehyun x camera operator!reader (feat. johnny, jungwoo & doyoung)

genre: fluff, comedy, co-workers to lovers

warning(s): expletives

word count: 3526 words

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: crush (souly had) ✧ mango love (shawn wasabi, satica) ✧ make you feel pretty (lovelytheband)

Request 39: Jaehyun x Staff!Reader during movie night where she’s an extrovert and is close to all of the members.

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Your fortnightly movie nights are always something you anticipate eagerly, no matter how frequent or repetitive they may be. It’s always nice being able to take a breather from the grievous monotony of your daily schedule to just kick back and—essentially—do nothing. You know the rest of the members cherish these ephemeral moments too, because despite all odds, they’ll valiantly try to show up and join you, or at the very least make an appearance. Once, Ten had even barged in, still with his extensions intact.

    To be fair, you’re not any better. When you heard that Jaehyun was participating the other day, you had dropped all other priorities just to come over. Safe to say, your roommate was not pleased seeing the state of the abandoned living room.

    Your vision sweeps the perimeter of the room. Usually, it’s packed to full capacity, but there are only four others here besides you today.

    “The glasses.” Doyoung purses his lips, planting his stare on a startled Jungwoo. “Where are the glasses? I thought I told you to get them?”

    Jungwoo smacks a hand to his mouth, the sound of skin against skin so loud that you wince on his behalf. “It totally slipped my mind. Honest to God. I got sidetracked.” He clasps your—an innocent bystander’s—shoulder with such force that you physically jolt forward. Jungwoo flashes you his signature million dollar smile.“Hey, could you be a dear and help me out? I still haven’t decided what movie we should watch tonight.”

    “Yeah, sure.” You grimace, already turning on your heel, mumbling, “You didn’t have to hit me.”

    “Thanks!” he calls after you. “And sorry!”

    His voice cuts through the hurried chattering between Jaehyun and Johnny which comes into earshot as you step into the kitchen. Their mouths move at the speed of bullet trains and Jaehyun’s hands flutter around his pensive face frantically. Maybe it’s the rose-tinted lenses, but the sight endears you. The slightest of chuckles escapes your lips at his delirium.

    Their bodies seize, their zealous conversation slipping into a steady silence.

    “What’s wrong?” you smirk. “Were you guys talking about me?”

    “No,” Jaehyun snaps, so quickly that it almost prickles. “Why would we be talking about you?”

    “Ouch,” you pout, masquerading the sting with a frivolous cadence . “How mean.”

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “What are you doing here? I thought you were, uh, clearing the table?” There’s a nervous edge to Jaehyun’s voice which insinuates that he knows something you don’t.

    “I was, but then Jungwoo asked me to get the glasses in his stead since he’s too busy fussing over which movie we should watch.”

    Johnny laughs. “I should go help him out then, or he’ll be stuck on the selection page for ages.” He pats Jaehyun’s back as he leaves. “Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

    You toss an inquisitive glance at Jaehyun. He turns away, cheeks blooming with colour.

    Admittedly, you’re more than intrigued by what Jaehyun had been so ardently conversing about. A small part of you whispers the possibility of it being you, and your heart soars. Now you’re the one getting sidetracked. Of course, you are. This is one of the rare moments you and Jaehyun have shared alone. Although you see him almost daily, there’s always someone closeby; a fellow staff or member of the group. And while you’d consider yourself someone who thrives in social situations, there’s nothing more you desire than a few seconds in solitude with the charming man.

   You swing the plywood cupboard door open, extinguishing your idle delusions, the handle cool in your grasp. Three shelves greet your vision; each stuffed full with either miscellaneous tableware or seldom used kitchen utensils. You spot the mug you gave Mark for his birthday collecting dust in the corner and scoff bitterly. And he said it’s his ‘favourite mug’.

    Your face screws in bewilderment. Usually, the glasses are graciously arranged on the bottom shelf; easily accessible for the people who are less gifted in the height department (namely you). Strangely, today they are at the very top, shoved deep inside, so far in that you’d think that it had been done with malicious intent. If they were in the middle, perhaps you could’ve reached them with a little extra effort, but given their current position, even on your tiptoes you wouldn’t even come close. The tips of your fingers barely graze the bottom portion of the glass. You huff.

    “Do you need help?”

    Your head swivels to see a clearly humoured Jaehyun, his eyebrow arched.

   “Yeah, someone’s kept the glasses on the top shelf,” you grumble, tenaciously continuing to reach for them despite knowing that you and your height—or rather, lack of it—have been bested. “Must’ve been Johnny. The tall-ass.”

    “You’re probably right. It wouldn’t be his first time either.” You groan in exertion. “Hold on, let me help.”

    “Thanks, Jae—”

    Your eyes widen and your stature stiffens. Just the smell of his aftershave is enough to knock you out.

    Jaehyun’s chest presses against your back firmly. His hot breath tickles your neck; the fine hairs stand on end. His right arm, hugged in the most breathtaking way by a black sweatshirt, reaches forward while his left is planted on the counter in front of you, caging you in. You’ve done your fair share of ogling at Jaehyun’s more than ravishing physique before, but only from afar. At this proximity however, you can individually trace every vein on his forearm. They’re like roots branching across the ample muscle. God, you’re making it very apparent that you’re staring.

    While probably not the most proficient, you don’t dispute this method of reaching for glasses. You’re sure Jaehyun knows there are better ways to do this too.

    Stunned, you all but stare in what you can only describe as awe at Jaehyun’s side-profile. Sharp lines accentuated by peculiarly delicate features, you can’t help but imagine how it would feel like running your fingers over the curves of his cheekbones, the arch of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow.

    Jaehyun’s gaze latches onto yours, his arm still hanging above your head. You swallow dryly before licking your lips. Jaehyun’s jaw clenches, the movement guiding his eyes to them. The counter is digging into your hip.

    “I got the glasses,” he breathes, your vicinity means you can practically taste the mint on his tongue.

    “Thanks,” you mumble.

    Neither of you move farther or closer to each other.

    Jaehyun places the glasses beside you. “I should probably go set up the projector now.”

    “Yeah, you should.” No, don’t.

    He nods curtly, prods the inside his cheek with his tongue and shuffles out of the kitchen. You lean on the counter, recomposing yourself. Your heart pounds in your ribcage. Jaehyun’s lingering aftershave muddles any chance of a coherent thought.

    What was that?

    Sure, over the past week or two, you and Jaehyun have made your ever augmenting attraction to one another remarkably tangible, but neither of you had acted upon it. Until now.

    Dazed, you almost forget to do what you had initially come in here for. You have to literally turn a 180 to retrieve the five glasses which sit innocuously on the countertop; they lay witness to your sins.

    “So, how’d it go?”

    “Did you do it?”

    “Well, technically no, but—”

    The four men are huddled together in the middle of the living room, each with equally suspicious expressions carved into their faces. Jaehyun’s back is turned to you as he’s hunched over, almost like he’s sharing some petty gossip.

    You set the glasses down on the communal dining table, shift your weight on one leg and perch your hands on your hips like a disgruntled teacher waiting for her class to fall silent. Doyoung is first to sense your presence, nudging Johnny and jutting his chin towards you.

    You can’t suppress the snort that courses through you when—simultaneously—all four of them disperse. It looks almost rehearsed.

    “Why are you guys acting so weird today?”

   Johnny sputters, Jungwoo chokes on presumably his own spit, Doyoung makes a sound which resembles more of a wheeze than a cough, and Jaehyun’s body goes completely rigid.

    “We’re not acting weird,” scoffs Johnny.

    You’re unconvinced. Just the way the whole room was immediately shrouded in a thick cloud of tension at your question was very telling.

    “Yes, you ar—”

    “Alright then,” Jaehyun clasps both of his hands together like a middle-aged man in the midst of a conference, “the movie! Jungwoo, what did you pick this week?”

    Jungwoo hammers a fist to his heaving chest. “I picked Jojo Rabbit.”

    “Oh, Minji noona watched it the other day. She told me it was so good she cried,” Johnny says. “And she rarely—if ever—cries over movies, or anything, really.”

    “Why didn’t she and the others come over today? They’re always here for movie night.” By the others, you’re referring to the rest of the staff who are usually present. Being more or less the same age, the members naturally gravitated towards the rest of you; your closeness in years meant that you could easily relate to one another. You’d consider yourself a decently convivial person as well, which was probably another fundamental factor.

    Once again, a restless fog congests the room. You seem to have struck another nerve.

    Jungwoo tightens his grip on the remote. “They were… busy.”

    His spontaneous lie is deplorable at best, but you let it slide.

    You assume they think your conjectures have diffused because they seem to share a relieved glance; Jaehyun casts an appreciative smile to the bunch. He clears his throat. You don’t miss the mental exchange between him and Johnny, who grins wittingly.

    “How about the snacks?”

    All eyes are on you.

    Your eyebrows cinch. “What?”

    “The snacks,” Jungwoo reiterates. “You’re on snack duty.”

    The way he says it makes it sound like you were aware of this. “No, I’m not.”

    “Yeah, we told you in the groupchat,” Doyoung says. Jungwoo seems to be restraining a smile.

    “No, you in fact, did not.” Scorned by this blatant accusation, you begin fishing your phone from your front pocket to show the others that none of you had come to that agreement.

    Jaehyun’s hand coils around your wrist, halting your movements. “I’ll come.”

    “I’m sorry?”

    “I’ll come along with you to get the snacks,” his grip loosens, “if you want me to.”

    “Oh.” Your arm falls limp to your side. You study Jaehyun’s earnest gaze. “Sure.”

    It’s painfully palpable that the rest of the group were expecting this; their lips curling with a smirk of gaiety.

    “Great, I’ll go grab some cash.”

You really should have thought twice about letting Jaehyun tag along.

    “You should’ve stayed at home.”

    “I wanted to come.”

    You’re reasonably terrified, both for you and Jaehyun’s sake. Getting recognised out in public is an all too plausible scenario, and you really do not have the resolve or strength to fend off a horde of fans right now.

    “Relax, it’s like 11pm. Nobody’s going to be just walking out here. At least, not anybody sober.”

    While he makes a valid point, you’re still skittish. “Alright, but keep your head down.”

    “How will I see where I’m going?”

    Collecting your wits, you reach for his hand to tug him forward. “I’ll lead the way.”

    Though Jaehyun is more than capable of staying grounded in his spot, you drag him along with relative ease, like a lifeless rag doll.

    “I… was just kidding.”

    Not looking back, you say, “Does that mean you want me to let go of your hand?”

    Brazenly, Jaehyun intertwines his fingers with yours, strengthening his palm’s embrace. A jolt of exaltation zips up your spine.

    “No, don’t.”

    The remainder of the brisk walk to the convenience store is spent in exhilarating quietude, one that conveys a hundred messages. Not once does Jaehyun’s hold of your hand weaken.

    The intimacy of the store welcomes you wholeheartedly. From its single constantly flickering bulb, that one cooler door with the rickety handle, and to the out-of-order slushie machine, you could peruse this store with your eyes closed. Being NCT’s camera operator first and designated snack buyer second, you’ve been in here more times than anyone should ever have to be in a lifetime.

    It’s not the most popular store on the block. Their selection is limited, their interior outdated, but in your humble opinion, they are leagues ahead of any other store out there. Plus, it’s usually vacant, meaning minor risk of being spotted. Other than you, Jaehyun and the single weary employee, there’s only one other person in here, a tattered hood draped over their head. While they’re sketchy in a certain sense, you’re confident that they don’t pose a threat to you or Jaehyun’s safety.

    “I’ll go get the crisps and you get the chocolates,” you declare, standing on your tiptoes.

    “Chocolates? We’re getting chocolates? We already have some in the fridge.”

    “Okay, then I’m getting chocolates.”

Another reason you love this place to bits is because of its prices. Everything is outrageously cheap. The first time you had visited, wet behind the ears, soul bursting with vigour yet pockets embarrassingly empty, you almost cried. You had one of the best dinners of your early adult life in this very store. Sure, it was just a truckload of processed, packaged food, but here’s the thing: it was a truckload. And when you’re as financially stable as a thumbtack balancing on the tip of its point, a truckload of food is a blessing bestowed by the Gods.

    So, safe to say, you and Jaehyun definitely got your money’s worth.

    In fact, in the time the two of you expended scouring the aisles for tid-bits, a forlorn cloud had consumed the sky. It had started raining. Lightly at first, but the drizzle had swiftly transitioned into a furious storm.

    Thunder claps in the distance, the sound so tumultuous it shakes the tiles of the store floor, the vibrations so intense they reach the tip of your head.

    “Do you have enough money for an umbrella?” you ask.

    “Even with an umbrella, I think it’d be too dangerous for us to go out there,” Jaehyun says, and as if to illustrate his point, another bolt of lightning strikes the Earth. The convenience store trembles. “And no, I don’t have enough money for an umbrella.” From the tone of Jaehyun’s voice, his delight is hidden by the pretense that he too is upset by this development.

    “Then I guess we’ll have to call one of the guys to pick us up.”

    Jaehyun’s expression immediately turns sour. “I mean, yeah… I guess we could.”

    Under normal circumstances, you would have been pouncing at the opportunity to spend some quality one-on-one time with Jaehyun, alas, three other undoubtedly starving men are waiting for your return.

    A long, dull white counter, meant for customers to sit and eat at faces the heavy gloom outside. Droplets of rain cling to the glass like fluorescent crystals embedded to cave caverns, before slipping down in a wavering trickle, racing each other to the bottom. You take a seat on one of the plastic stools and Jaehyun takes the one beside you, dropping the bag of snacks to the floor.

    “Hello?” Johnny’s sonorous voice greets through your speakers.

    Jaehyun stares at you, anguished. To his right, the hooded stranger from earlier slips into the third stool, leaning forward and shelving their chin on a palm. They stare outside the window.

    “Hey, Johnny. We got the snacks, but Jaehyun and I have a separate problem.”

    “I know. It’s pouring.”

    “Exactly,” you nod. Jaehyun looks like he’s about to crumble into a heap of anxiety. “Can you pick us up? We don’t have enough cash to hail a taxi.”

    There’s a commotion on the other side of the line; hushed discussion and rustling of fabric. You can’t pick up a lot, only the words, “Yeah.” and “So, that’s what we’ll say?”

    “Sorry,” Johnny finally says, after much delay. “I can’t.”

    “What do you mean you can’t?”

    Beside you, Jaehyun visibly perks.

    “Car’s being repaired,” he replies languidly. “Mark popped a tyre while learning to drive the other day.”

    You groan. “You’re joking.”

    “Dead serious.”

    “God, the car just had to be out today of all days.”

    “Sorry, it can’t be helped,” Johnny sighs, a twinge of mischief to his voice. “The matter’s out of my hands.”

    “It’s fine. We’ll just… wait it out or something.”

    “We’ll try and see if any of the others can swing by and pick you guys up, so just stay put for now.”

    “Alright thanks, Johnny. Sorry about tonight.”

    “Nah, it’s fine,” he says. “Have fun with Jae.”

    The call ends with a click before you can probe Johnny further.

    “No go?” Jaehyun chirps.

    You shake your head. “No, though you don’t seem bummed out about it.”

    “Yeah,” he shrugs. “It’s not often I can spend some time alone with you anyway. In a way, I’m glad.” You bite the flesh of your cheek, face turning hot. Jaehyun turns in his seat, reaching down for the plastic bag. “And, we have snacks to—”

    His eyebrows furrow.

    “Jae?” His adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “The snacks?”

    “They’re… gone.”

    “What?”

    “I put them right here beside me, but they’re gone! I swear I—”

    The bell above the door chimes as the mysterious figure—the one who had been sat beside Jaehyun mere seconds ago—dashes out, with, lo and behold, a very familiar plastic bag dangling in their grasp.

    You point a finger towards them. “They stole our snacks!”

    Jaehyun’s head whips around to gawk at the culprit who has already made their way out of the store, head-first into Mother Nature’s wrath. He leaps out of his seat, hell-bent on chasing the person down, practically foaming at the mouth. “Motherfucker—”

    This time, you’re the one who grips his wrist. “Jaehyun, wait. It’s not worth it.”

    “They just stole all of our snacks! Am I supposed to just watch them get away with them?” he seethes. If not for his genuinely fuming expression, you would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

    “They already had a head-start, Jae. I doubt you’ll be able to chase them down. And what if someone sees you? How are we supposed to explain why Jung Jaehyun of NCT was sprinting in the rain after a stranger with a bag of snacks?”

    His shoulders sag. “But… our snacks… and your chocolate! What about your chocolate?”

    “It’s fine. I didn’t even get the version I liked. They were all out of the original ones.”

    Jaehyun slumps back into his seat, defeated. “Should we call the police?”

    You snicker. “And tell them our snacks got stolen? They’d laugh in our faces.”

    “I hate that you’re right. I wish they’d treat snack theft with the same severity of other crimes,” he jests, despite still being obviously disheartened. “Hope whoever that was gets struck by lightning and fucking sizzles out there.” He cards a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

    “It wasn’t your fault, Jae. I mean, who the hell steals snacks anyway?”

    “No, not that. Well, I am sorry about that but what I meant was... I screwed this up.”

    “Screwed what up?”

    “You know how everyone was acting really strangely today?”

    “You guys weren’t being very secretive about it.”

    He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, well, it was because they were helping me get us alone.”

    Jaehyun’s confession is like the final piece of a puzzle; the final thread to connect all the dots together. “So that explains why everyone collectively decided to not show up today, and why the glasses were on the top shelf, and why you guys said I was on snack duty when I clearly wasn’t! And I bet the car isn’t even busted too!”

    He nods, a wry smile etched onto his lips. “The glasses weren’t actually a part of the plan, but in the end, they were in my favour, so I’m not pissed about it.” You flush as the memory floods you. “They did all of that, and yet I still blew it.”

    “Who said you blew it?” you say. Jaehyun lifts his head to look at you. “We’re alone right now, aren’t we?”

    He swipes his tongue over his teeth. “Well, yeah, I suppose we are.”

    “So, just tell me you like me already.”

    Jaehyun jerks back in his seat. “You knew?”

    “Of course I knew,” you grin, “because, I like you too.”

    His face breaks out into the widest smile possible; one that stretches his lips so much that it must ache. “You do?”

    “Yes, I do,” you giggle. “Even though you got our snacks stolen.”

    By the time you two make it back to the dorm, clothes dripping rainwater onto the carpet, lips swollen from stolen kisses, and smiles teeming with euphoria, the rest of the street is already dark. Johnny, Jungwoo and Doyoung greet you with knowing smiles and playful comments.

    “Look, I’m super happy for you guys and stuff but,” Jungwoo gestures to your empty hands, “where the hell are the snacks?”

[sasarahsunshine]

can you do the “our shirt” prompt with hotchreid ??

(First ever HotchReid fic/blurb here we gooo!) Prompt #1 from here  TW: hints towards smut, mostly fluff/soft feels. let me know if anything needs to be tagged.

This little thing they had going on was oftentimes the only positive light they could see during the week. Thing wasn’t a right word for it, but Aaron wasn’t exactly sure what the thing was. Attraction? Yes. A relationship? He didn’t know. Neither of them had explicitly stated that was what this was. Neither had asked for more than what it currently was. 

But did he want it to be more? He didn’t know that either. 

Whatever it was, the only rule they had was it had to stay secret. The rest of the team didn’t need to know: it wasn’t their business. It was Hotch and Reid’s private life, so private it would stay. At least, until they knew what they wanted from it. Because if it did become something more, then the team would need to know. But until then, Hotch was secretly prideful of keeping Reid all to himself. 

“Possessive,” Reid told him once, his brown hair framing his face as the morning sun illuminated his thin figure, his pale skin barely covered by the bedsheets. When it came to the beautiful man that Spencer Reid was, Aaron Hotchner didn’t mind being a bit possessive. It wasn’t exactly a trait he liked about himself, but with Reid, he couldn’t help it. 

Reid had stayed over again last night. This was becoming a more common occurrence when they were home, and although Hotch didn’t mind, he was growing concerned that the younger man was with him more often than not. It would only be a matter of time before someone else noticed this too. They worked with a team of professional profilers, after all. 

So, trying to pretend that they were most definitely not sleeping together almost every night, Hotch and Reid still came to work at separate times via different travel methods. Reid took the metro, Hotch drove. 

It was hard leaving Reid to walk to the subway this morning on his own, especially with his hair a disheveled mess, his lips still pink and slightly swollen from their heated night. His sleep-shirt hanging off his thin frame as he stood in the doorway, waving goodbye, “See you at the office, Aaron,” he said with a small, sleepy smile.

Hotch’s thoughts were swimming with that image as he stood in the conference room, a file opened in his hand that he wasn’t really looking at. His eyes were unfocused, his mind back in his bedroom with Spencer. The softness of his brown eyes as they fell onto the bed, lips connecting for the millionth time but still tasting like the first. Fireworks exploding behind their heated kiss, sparks crackling through their bodies. 

He had to pull his focus back to the present when he heard JJ greeting Reid, the young doctor stammering as he set his satchel down, “Sorry I’m late. I missed the first train and had to wait an extra 8 minutes for the second.”

“Don’t make it a habit, Reid-” Hotch started to say, his stern persona in place at work, but he stopped. His eyes narrowed at Reid’s attire, glancing him up and down. The next words came out before he could stop himself, “Is that my shirt?”

Reid looked down at himself, a white button-up adorning his chest that was most definitely a little too big for him. He had tried to hide that fact by tucking it in, but clearly, it was to no avail. It had become a bit of a habit to wear Hotch’s larger shirts when he stayed over the weekend. Especially after he noticed the gleam of arousal that would come to Hotch’s eye when he saw him wearing his clothes (and extra especially with nothing else on). He glanced back up at Hotch, his own words also rushing from him before he could think, “You mean our shirt?” Because, honestly, they had both worn this shirt several times now. Just not at work.

Morgan coughed after he took a sip of his coffee, the hot beverage spilling on the table as he spat it out, “What?” He croaked. 

Hotch closed his eyes, trying to ground himself, the feeling of heat rising up his neck and blossoming over his face. Oh great, he was blushing. When he opened his eyes again, he looked right at Reid, who was redder than a tomato. Rossi was just grinning, idly rocking back in his chair, “You wanna tell us something, Aaron?” The rest of the team was looking at him expectantly. 

With a sigh, Hotch ran his hand over his forehead, “Not really,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, Jeez,” Emily rolled her eyes, “We already know. You might as well just admit it, so we don’t have to tiptoe around you two anymore.”

“You know?” Reid squeaked, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. Morgan shot a look between him and Emily, “You knew? I didn’t! What is going on?” He didn’t care to clean up his coffee mess. 

Emily shrugged, “Okay, well Rossi, JJ, and I knew. We were betting on how long it would take before you guys came clean.”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just, get out. Reid, you and I need to talk.”

Rossi smirked, standing as slowly as he could while the girls filed out (and Morgan seemed frozen to his spot), “Just clean up when you’re done in here.”

“Rossi!” Reid’s voice cracked as he hid his face under his hands. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening!

Rossi had to tug on Morgan’s arm to force him out of his daze, making him follow. They closed the door behind them, leaving Hotch and Reid alone at the round table. Hotch cleared his throat after a moment, moving closer to his... lover? He sat down across from him, his hands folded neatly. with his elbows on his knees.

“Do you want this to end?” He asked after a beat, looking into Reid’s eyes. Reid furrowed his brow, his blush lightening just a little, “What?”

“Now that the team knows. Do you want to end it? I won’t blame you, nor will I be mad if you-”

“Aaron,” Reid took Hotch’s hands into his own, his eyes just as soft as they were that morning, “I don’t want this to end. I want... more, actually. I just didn’t know how to ask for it.”

Hotch closed his mouth to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. What? Really? Reid continued, his thumb running over Hotch’s pulse point, “I’ve been staying with you because I like to. I like being close to you. Being with you. Um, if that’s what you want?”

Hotch blinked, taken aback by this. Yes.

“You’re sure? That you want this to be more? Especially now that our only rule has been broken?” He searched the younger mans eyes, looking for doubt, guilt, deciet. He didn’t find any.

“I’m sure. If you are?”

“Yes.” He didn’t need to think twice, taking Reid’s face into his hands and bringing their lips together in a tender kiss, much like the one they shared when they woke up, but this was different. This time there was a word to go with it. A word for the thing they had between them. Passion. Love. A real relationship.

[writerpeach]

Shutter

Fromis_9 Saerom x Male Reader

5223 words

Categories: smut, oral, model! saerom

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Read on AFF

Read on AO3

It’s not every day that a model walked into your studio who by every definition of the word, was perfect.

Dozens of gorgeous women came by each and every week, each one more beautiful than the last and you couldn’t ask for a better job.

The elevator doors opened and the woman scheduled for your afternoon appointment stepped inside your studio on the ninth floor, and you had never seen such an attractive woman with such stunning features.

Calling her gorgeous would almost be an insult. Words could not and would not do her beauty justice, or would be enough to describe how attractive she was.

She had dark shoulder-length hair and walked with confidence in an elegant looking black and grey dress and her sexy aura filled the studio.

“Hello, I’m Saerom!” she shyly introduced herself, a small smile on her rosy red lips and you melted just by hearing her voice.

“Nice to meet you, Saerom,” you replied.

“Please take care of me,” she said and bowed politely. Her hair and makeup styled perfectly, nothing looked out of place and the smile on her face only made her look even more beautiful.

“Shall we get started, Miss Saerom?”

Saerom nodded and you directed her to the set as you still had a few things to set up beforehand. She stood against the white backdrop, eyes roaming the bright lights and other equipment spewed everywhere, tripods and lights all ensuring that each model looked as best as you could make them look.

You readied your camera and glanced at Saerom, realizing how busty she was and what a curvy deadly body her dress showed off.

“Ready when you are,” you said as you removed your lens cap, giving one final check to all your equipment hoping to somehow do justice to the actual goddess standing in front of you.

Saerom flashed her best smile as you pressed the camera shutter and took the first shot of the shoot, capturing her beauty as best as possible. Her side profile was perfect, her features flawless in a way that they had been sculpted by the gods. Her striking jawline, her cute nose, her perfectly formed lips. The ideal woman put together as if to say it won’t get better than this.

Your finger moved faster than a cheetah hunting a prey, taking hundreds of shots per minute as Saerom displayed a variety of poses and facial expressions, each one perfect in their own way.

“How am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re doing amazing. The camera loves you.”

Truer words had never come out of your mouth. Saerom behind a camera was a natural fit, her smile beaming with confidence, every pose and angle flawless as she was. After all, when you’re being paid to be beautiful for a living you’ve really made it.

“Make sure to capture my best side.”

“You don’t have a bad side,” you responded. Saerom blushed cutely.

Two hours flew by, Saerom’s experience playing a huge part and even with makeup touch-ups and additional wardrobe changes there was time to spare.

“That should be a wrap. Thank you for your hard work, Miss Saerom” you said. You never wanted to stop taking pictures of her and definitely took more than necessary, but more was always better than less.

“Can I see some?” Saerom eagerly asked.

“It’ll take some time to get them all transferred and processed if you don't mind waiting,” you said as you removed the card from your camera and slipped it inside your laptop on the nearby table.

“Not at all! I’ll wait over here,” she said as she took a seat on the nearby black leather couch.

You had taken literally thousands of pictures and it would take some time to add them all, much less edit them. Sorting quickly through a handful of different outfits and looks you picked the best ones, doing a quick edit on them before transferring them over to the large monitor next to your laptop.

You gestured for Saerom to come over and she scurried over right away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked through the handpicked batch of pictures, proud of the hard work both of you had put in and the satisfying results.

“You’re an amazing photographer,” she shyly said.

“An artist is only as good as their art,” you replied, almost regretting spewing out such a cheesy line but earning another smile out of Saerom.

“We still have some time left don’t we?” she asked. Most of your appointments were scheduled in three-hour blocks, allowing plenty of time for preparations and in case something went wrong. And something almost always went wrong.

“You are correct, Miss Saerom.”

“Perfect. Can you shoot some more of me then?”

“I’d love to.”

Saerom returned to the set, the look on her face uncertain as you went to set up your camera again.

“I don’t have any more outfits to wear,” she said, unsure of herself.

“There’s a closet in the corner with spare outfits, I don’t know your size but they should fit.”

Saerom hesitated for a moment. “That won’t be necessary.”

In a moment’s notice, Saerom acted on impulse and shedded her dress, baring her immaculate body and the incredibly sexy pair of matching lace black lingerie underneath. You weren’t expecting this moment of spontaneity and your jaw dropped.

“What?” she smirked. “You’ve shot women in lingerie before haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“Then you won’t mind me getting more comfortable will you?”

“N-not at all-”

“Good.”

Saerom continued with a playful smile and kicked her heels off to the side, leaving her standing in the middle of the set barefoot in her underwear, the insane curves of her tight body front and center for your viewing pleasure.

Her full breasts were barely covered, showing abundant cleavage and the flimsy piece of lace did little to contain them, showing off the size of her perfect chest as if they wanted to escape from their prison. Her gorgeous legs led up to soft creamy thighs, and Saerom’s toned abs looked as delicious as the rest of her body, clearly the result of hours of work at the gym.

"Incredible," you said in awe.

"Like what you see?" Saerom asked with a cute giggle. You found yourself speechless.

"I've always wanted to be an underwear model. My company would never let me though, they love protecting my image," Saerom said sarcastically as her eyes rolled.

"You certainly have the perfect body for it."

"Thank you," Saerom said as her cheeks reddened. "I work very hard for it."

"It shows."

Saerom switched from shy and cute to sexy instantaneously as she flipped her hair seductively, running her hands through it as she lifted her arms over her head. Your camera shutter went crazy as you started shooting your newly undressed model, not wanting to waste a second.

"How do I look?" she asked as she bit her lip.

"You're very sexy, Saerom."

"Am I? How about some closeup shots then?"

Without even responding you practically ripped your heavy camera from its tripod as you detached it, closing the distance between you Saerom, taking a deep breath as you approached.

“Think of these as exclusive shots. Just for us,” Saerom said, showing off to the camera.

While the previous shoot was rather professional, Saerom was rather quiet for the majority of it, focusing on her poses and angles. Now that she was opening up in more ways than one you wanted to get to know her.

“Tell me something about yourself, Saerom.”

“What would you like to know?” she asked, pouting her lips at the camera.

“Something...interesting.”

“Interesting?” she pondered. “I share a place with eight other girls.”

“Eight? That’s insane. I can’t imagine how long the line for the bathroom is.”

“You get used to it, it becomes fun most of the time. Having time on my own like this is actually kind of weird for me now.”

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Saerom laughed and you could tell she was becoming more comfortable around you,

“It was difficult at first but I think I would be bored living by myself now,” Saerom said as she spun around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips, bending over enough to give a good look at her plump round ass as her eyes kept contact with your camera, trying to keep your pants from tightening.

“Fuck, you have a really nice ass, Saerom,” you blurted out even without thinking. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks. It’s my favorite part of me,” she proudly said.

You couldn’t stop staring at Saerom’s heavenly sculpted backside, wondering how soft those cheeks felt, but you quickly tried chasing those thoughts away as you didn’t want a bulge forming in your pants in front of her.

“You’re one of the best models I’ve had the pleasure to work with,” you said, distracting yourself.

“Really? You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“I’m not. Most models that show up don’t give me any trouble, occasionally you’ll get a spoiled diva that shows up late and clearly doesn’t want to be here and it ruins the atmosphere of the whole shoot.”

You made sure to get closeup shots of every part of Saerom’s body, taking extra care in framing her ass perfectly before walking to the front of her sexy body and taking several shots of her wonderful breasts.

“But you walked in and this whole place lit up.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s the truth.”

Saerom paused. “What do you think?” Saerom asked, cupping her breasts. You felt your heart racing.

“They’re perfect.”

“How about a closer view then?” she asked. You zoomed in and aimed at her chest, but Saerom shyly smiled and aimed your camera down.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before you could put any thought into her words Saerom reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, divesting it from her body as she exposed her sizable pale breasts, bouncing as they were freed.  

“Holy shit, Saerom.”

“How about you put that camera down and we have a little fun?”

Without having a chance to respond you got rid of your camera as Saerom’s topless body walked towards you, your eyes immediately drawn to her full round breasts and salivating over them.

“Do any of your models ever let you touch them?”

“I try to keep things professional.”

“That’s boring,” Saerom said with a seductive smirk as she grabbed your hands and guided them to her breasts, helping you squeeze them. You moaned at their softness and how they fit in your hands, the weight of her breasts, and how perfectly shaped they were made you lose your mind.

“You’re so perfect,” you said as you squeezed and groped Saerom’s tits, squeezing two perfect handfuls as her pretty pink nipples hardened against your palms as she looked into your eyes. The fabric of your pants constricted and there was no stopping it this time.

“You can touch all you want. Taste me.”

“I will,” you said hungrily as you crashed your lips against hers and wrapped your hands around her bare waist, The taste of Saerom’s cherry lips entered your mouth. You pulled her in tighter as she returned your advances, tongues dancing together as the scent of her perfume lingered in the air. You wanted Saerom, bad. You wanted to rip her panties off and fuck her against your set, forcing to pace yourself and keep yourself under control.

You broke the kiss and exchanged lustful stares, not wasting a second as you dove into her breasts, licking stripes up and down her cleavage, and brought your mouth to her tits and teased her sensitive nipples. Saerom moaned as you flicked delicate circles around each one before sucking tenderly, earning gasps and whiny moans.

Schedules be damned, you took your time with each of her breasts, giving each equal attention and not leaving your hands from her flesh, not moving on until her hard nipples were covered in your saliva.

“Mmm, fuck,” Saerom moaned, caressing your hair as you devoured and buried yourself in her tits. Playful licking turned into loud slurping, and when that wasn’t enough you nibbled on each of her swollen pink nubs, grazing on her stiff nipples in between your teeth gently as her moans grew louder and whinier.

With all of your attention on Saerom’s tits, you sucked and sucked with no intention of stopping until your lips were numb, looking up every so often to see the pleasure running through Saerom.

Meanwhile, with your mouth full of Saerom’s breasts you felt a hand move down to your crotch and squeezed as she felt you up through your pants which became painfully tight.

“I must be turning you on,” she giggled.

“You are, you really are. Fuck, you’re so hot, Saerom,” you growled.

“I could say the same to you,” she said. “I got you all worked up, didn’t I? It’s only fair I do something about it.”

Saerom stopped you in your tracks and led you over to the couch, playfully pushing you against it as you fell down and took a seat. Slowly lowering to her knees she rubbed up and down your thighs, biting her lip, watching as you removed your shirt in preparation.

“How many women have you fucked on this couch?”

“Not enough,” you smirked.

“Time to add one more to your tally then.”

With a sly grin on her pretty face, Saerom unzipped your pants, quickly yanking them with your boxers down to your ankles with your assistance. Your cock sprang free, throbbing in the cold air and Saerom’s eyes went wide at the sight of it.

Saerom licked her lips, feeling an insatiable desire and hunger deep inside her at the sight of your unleashed manhood. As she admired your rock hard shaft, finding herself unable to draw her eyes away as her long slender fingers wrapped tightly around your hard cock, applying firm pressure and began stroking you up and down, feeling every inch.

“You have a very nice cock,” Saerom said, lips curling wide as she pumped you slowly and drizzled her fingers with your leaking pre-cum. She kissed the very tip of your cock, making your whole body jerk as her soft lips explored your cock and traveled down your base.

Every kiss on your shaft was loaded with hunger, and once Saerom reached the end of your cock she flattened her tongue against your base while you watched her every move. You moaned as her wet warm tongue moved slowly up and down your shaft, giving delicate strokes until she found your sensitive tip and swirled around your swollen head, lapping up every leaking drop.

“Yummy,” she said, spitting on your cock several times and spreading it all over your shaft, jerking you off and keeping eye contact.

Saerom kissed your tip one more time before she parted her plump red lips with your cock, taking the first few inches of you into her warm wet mouth.

“Oh f-fuuck,” you moaned loudly as Saerom hollowed her cheeks and sealed her lips tight around your cock. Saerom sucked you off slowly and tenderly while her sexy gaze was glued to you, full lips sliding up and down your shaft.

With constant eye contact Saerom built up your pleasure, taking her time with sucking your cock, enjoying it just as much as she moaned around your shaft.

“Fuck, Saerom," you moaned and threw your head back."That feels fucking good."

She smiled with your cock in her mouth, the bright studio lights letting you see her face perfectly as she began to bob her head up and down, her tongue playing with the underside of your shaft.

Saerom upped her pace as she swallowed more of your cock inside her warm mouth, the redness of her lips fading as her dark lipstick began smearing on your shaft, combined with streaks of her spit.

Her pretty hands did not stay idle, using one to stroke up and down your thigh, digging her nails in as the other cupped and fondled your balls.

“So heavy and full," she said as her nose nudged against your cock and planted messy wet kisses on your balls."I'll make sure they’re empty when I'm done with you."

Saerom continued to pleasure your balls while jerking off your needy cock, licking wide stripes, and glazing your sack with drool. She sucked on each one tenderly, giving your balls equal attention and hungrily slurping on them individually as you moaned louder, letting your satisfaction be known.

Using both her lips and tongue all over your balls, Saerom blew hot air against each of them before bringing your cock back into her mouth. Those deadly eyes glued to your own as she sucked slowly from tip to base, swallowing up every last inch as you hit the back of her throat without any real effort.

“Oh god, Saerom…”

The satisfaction in her eyes was obvious as she took you down her mouth with ease, her throat tightening around you as she relaxed her muscles, not even letting out a single gag.

Her soft wet lips felt so good wrapped around your cock, and you instinctively grabbed the back of her head, guiding her movements as she bobbed faster, lips kissing your base with each stroke.

It wasn’t long before you encouraged an even quicker pace, Saerom hungrily slurping down every inch that impaled her throat, desperately trying not to go wild and fuck her throat as much as you wanted to.

Saerom kept your wet shaft deep down her throat, working her muscles and keeping her lips sealed around every inch as she played with your balls, drooling all over your cock.

"Fuck, Saerom. You're so damn good at that."

"I've had a lot of practice."

Saerom hummed and gave your cock one more slow satisfying slurp from base to tip, releasing it with a loud messy pop as she furiously jerked off your messy wet shaft.

Not even bothering to wipe off leftover spit and lipstick on her face, Saerom's lust-filled gaze focused on you as she made you wait in anticipation.

Keeping your cock in her small delicate hands, Saerom carefully made a show of

sliding her panties down her toned legs, tossing them onto your set.

"A little present from me. Keep them."

With barely any time to react, you stole a glance at Saerom's beautiful bare pussy as she straddled you, the warmth of her naked body radiating around you as her comforting thighs rested against your own.

Saerom really was like no other woman, as cliché as it sounded. You could see it in her eyes that she wanted your cock, not just for her own satisfaction but for yours, aching to share in mutual pleasure.

The way she held your cock in her hand, aiming it between her spread thighs and between the pink wet flesh of her pussy, slowly rubbing it against her folds was agonizing, deliberately teasing both of you with a sly expression on her face.

You understood what she was doing as Saerom continued to run your cock through the wet warmth of her hole, but that didn’t make it any less easy to hold out, each sensation running through your body making it harder to maintain an ounce of composure.

“Saerom…”

She didn’t say a word as she collected her slick on your shaft, mixing it with leftover saliva, coating your cock in her fluids. Saerom thankfully shared your impatience and knew when enough was enough.

“I’m so wet,” Saerom bluntly said, the first set of words that left her lips in several minutes.

In what felt like the longest few seconds of your life Saerom lifted her wide hips up in the air, aiming herself carefully, and sank down on the first few inches of your cock.

Saerom gasped loudly and you shared an equally loud groan at the feeling of penetrating her body, the intense sensation of entering her pussy for the first time was unlike anything else. There was a lot to take in. Saerom’s wetness surrounded your cock as expected, followed by extreme warmth and tightness that overwhelmed you.

Gently moving her body up and down Saerom took it easy at first, letting her wet walls be parted with more of your hard cock, clinging tightly around your shaft that gradually disappeared in between her thighs.

“How do I feel?” Saerom asked as she wrapped her hands around the back of your neck, using her hips and sliding up and down your cock, coating more of your shaft in her juices.

“So fucking tight.”

She beamed at your response, sinking deeper and deeper until she almost bottomed herself out and stopped just above the base of your shaft.

“You feel really good inside me.”

Her eyes closed and her head whipped back as you both moaned together and felt her tight walls squeezing you tightly, letting herself get used to the rock hard flesh fully entering her body.

“I need every inch inside me,” Saerom pleaded, not that you were in a position to stop her, letting her control every movement. You watched between her beautiful thighs every move she made as her slick lips gripped your cock, ensuring you never left the warmth of her body.

In one swift movement, Saerom lifted herself from your cock, moving so just the tip of your shaft was inside her, and slammed her hips down and impaled herself to the hilt, moaning at being completely filled.

“Fuck!”

Saerom didn’t allow herself any adjustment, she didn’t need it and neither did you as she smiled devilishly.

“Ride my cock, Saerom,” you demanded and your orders were followed right away as she began bouncing on your dick, her mouth agape as she threw her head back in pleasure. You snaked your hands around her slim waist and grabbed her ass with both hands, kneading the soft flesh and encouraging her to continue dictating the pace.

“Stretch me out...stretch my tight little pussy just like that. Fuck, I wish I could ride you all day.”

“I could always cancel the rest of my appointments.”

“F-fuck, don’t tempt me. But I have my own schedules after this too,” she frowned.

“Guess we’ll have to schedule another session then.”

Saerom nodded in response and your hands squeezed her cheeks tighter, giving her ass a few quick slaps as she gasped, looking at the way she was falling apart already as she rode you.

Continuing to test the waters you gave repeated smacks against Saerom’s plentiful backside, the satisfying sounds of both raised palms striking her bare cheeks filled your ears. Saerom whined cutely in response as her walls clenched around your cock with each impact, not using enough force to sting but just giving her body a little something extra.

“You like being spanked, Saerom?”

“I-I do.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” you smirked. Saerom took the opportunity to increase the pace, allowing herself to adjust and found the perfect angle to take your shaft inside her, bouncing her delicious big ass on your cock.

“You’re drenched, Saerom. Do you always get this wet?” you asked. She hesitated before shyly nodding.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she timidly replied, establishing a harsher rhythm as she rode you with more intensity and fervor, her perfect set of tits bouncing hypnotically with every movement.

“I take full responsibility.”

Settling into the sharp pleasure Saerom gave in to her desires and rode your cock faster, covering the entire surface of your shaft in her slick as you explored her voluptuous naked body and ran your hands up every inch of her bare skin you had access to.

You started with Saerom’s creamy thighs, caressing them softly before moving on to her sexy toned tummy, feeling her tight sculpted abs against your fingertips. She reacted to every touch audibly as your hands made their way back to her luscious breasts, cupping them and keeping your hands filled as she slammed her ass harder against your cock, creating more pleasure.

"You ride me so well, Saerom," you said as you pinched her nipples, feeling her pussy tightening and more of her juices leaking out. You kept your hands filled with her wonderful pale breasts as her ass repeatedly slammed down on your crotch, using your cock for her pleasure.

"It helps that I love your cock," Saerom said as she rode you faster and faster as sweat began to mist all over of your bodies, thighs crashing against your own with every bounce.

"And I love you creaming all over my cock."

The mere act of Saerom taking your cock in and out of her body with ease was driving you crazy, her hot wet pussy wrapped so tightly around your cock you felt like you could burst at any moment.

You couldn’t keep up with all the sensations running through your body, each time Saerom’s ass smacked against your body brought you closer to the point of no return, her juices flowing down her thighs confirming that she was equally reaching past her own limits.

Saerom's tight pussy began pulsating around your shaft as she became breathless, every forceful slam of her full hips brought down on your body making her wetter and wetter as she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Are you close, Saerom?" you asked. It took several moments before she could form an answer, and even then she could only nod in response.

"I need you cumming all over my cock."

"I w-will, fuck. Can you cum with me?"

"I'd love to," you said as desperation and need filled her eyes, knowing neither could hold on much longer. You watched her riding your cock just a little longer before growing tired of being passive and grabbed onto her hips, thrusting deep into her tight dripping cunt as she impaled herself on you.

You wanted every bit of pleasure out of Saerom's body and you were going to take it.

"Oh fuuuck! Just like that!"

It took a few thrusts to find the perfect timing, hitting Saerom's spot at just the right angle, keeping a firm grip on her sweaty body and trying to match her rhythm, both of you working together to achieve your collective goal of reaching climax.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, watching her gorgeous features contorting every time you filled her to the hilt. The air in the room grew harder to take in as you drove yourself in Saerom with desperation, both aching for release. The loud slapping of hot flesh against flesh fought for dominance against the equally loud moaning escaping Saerom’s lips.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, I-I'm gonna cum!" Saerom cried out, the three most beautiful words you had heard all day as you held onto her body tight, preparing yourself for the intensity of what was about to happen.

"I am too, fuck!"

“Cum inside me, please, I need you to fill my tight little pussy,” Saerom begged, and you did everything you could to hold out just long enough to let her achieve orgasm first. You weakly smiled and savored the last few moments before the inevitable.

The final few seconds arrived as your breathing deepened, looking dead center into Saerom’s beautiful eyes filled with need and desire. Without another word you felt Saerom’s juices overflowing as her pussy tightened almost painfully so, thighs trembling violently as her cunt squeezed the life out of your shaft as she came, leaving a mess over your cock and wrapped her arms tighter around the back of your neck and desperately moaning into your ears as her body turned to jelly.

Saerom looked beautiful as her orgasm took over her body, unable to control the volume of satisfied moans leaving her lips as she slowly came down from her intense high. She rocked her hips back and forth to ride out her orgasm and helped you join her as you felt all the tension in your body being released.

Unable to take anymore your cock throbbed inside Saerom, letting out needy grunts and moans as you exploded inside her, emptying your thick hot cum deep inside her pussy and pumping her full of your seed as her body took spurt after spurt as she was filled to the brim.

She rested her head on your shoulder, swaying her hips to coax every drop out of you, the feeling of your warmth deep inside her satisfying her to no end.

“You feel so warm,” she faintly said as your bodies took a much-deserved rest and stared into each other's eyes, both trying to catch a breath at the wonderful experience you just shared.

���That...was...amazing,” you said, heavily gasping.

“It was. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while,” Saerom smiled and kissed you, giving you one more taste of lips as she savored the warmth left in her body.

She gradually lifted her body off yours carefully as your cock plopped out and the huge thick load you had left inside began slowly dripping out of her pussy, running down her flushed thighs. Responding only in tired gasps she tried to catch her breath, watching the mess inside her continue to show itself.

Both of you too tired to move let alone speak, Saerom knelt and licked your shaft clean and tasted your combined juices, lips slurping slowly from base to tip to not miss a drop.

She headed over to your workstation with your cum still dripping down her thighs, grabbed your camera and took several full-body shots of her naked sweaty body, running her hand through her messy hair and smiling for the camera.

"Thank you," Saerom said as she ended up in your naked lap again.

"For what?"

"For taking such pretty pictures of me."

"It's all part of the job. It's easy when I have such a pretty model."

Her cheeks reddened again, the smile etched across her lips something you couldn’t ever get enough of.

"I can't wait to see the full versions."

"I'll have them sent to your company by the end of the week. Just the ones for the magazine of course,” you said.

"I look forward to it. I had a lot of fun today."

"I did too, Saerom."

"Can I see you again? After work?" she asked.

"I usually don't finish until the sun goes down."

"I don't mind, I'll be pretty busy myself. Maybe I'll even take some photos of my own for you."

"Oh? I didn't know you were a photographer as well."

"I'm just an amateur," she shyly said. "It’s just a hobby when I have the time."

"I'd love to see some shots."

"I'll send some then. They might not be as risqué as what we took today."

"As long as you’re in them I’ll love them."

Saerom accepted your praise with a grin on her features and regretfully dressed and left quietly, leaving you tired, sweaty and in need of a shower with her occupied in your thoughts.

Whoever the next model was you knew they couldn’t compare to Saerom, and you couldn’t wait for work to be over.