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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 6 months

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Crocoideae Eros

Garvez smut (Sex Pollen!) 7840 words on ao3 For you @bacchicly

She never would have thought she’d end up here with him. She could have dreamed it, sure, but she would have assumed she’d lost her mind upon waking up and immediately given herself a very stern talking to. He was her teammate after all, her…friend, sort of, on bad days.

And yet, today must have been a very bad day because here they were.

She and Alvez in a broom closet in a secure government lab hooking up like a scene from some bad Skinemax movie.

Fuck.

Yes

no-

Scifi, really, given the catalyst.

————

“I’ll go check in with Penelope, see how the backgrounds are going,” Luke volunteered, after everyone convened to bounce ideas off one another from initial investigations. He didn’t need to, they could call, but what was the benefit of having her with them if not getting to see her face to face real-time updates?

The director of the facility had called Prentiss personally to have the team look into the multiple "accidental" poisonings on site that their own investigators hadn't been able to pinpoint. While normally, Garcia would have stayed back at Quantico and assisted virtually, the nature of the materials the lab possessed and the things they were working on required that all feet be on-site.

After hearing glass break and a shriek following his knock, Luke swiftly pulled his weapon, stealthy twisted the knob, and peered around the door. Was the unsub after her? That would be completely out of character given the other four victims, but maybe their presence had escalated things.

From his location what he found was Penelope, alone, enveloped in a cloud of sparkling yellow dust, sneezing.

“ahHH-CHOO! Oh Fudge.” He watched as she looked on miserably at the shattered jar surrounding her feet. Luke holstered the gun and walked in, closing the door behind him.

“We leave you alone for half an hour and you’re already back to your old ways, dismantling labs, Garcia?”

“Ha. Ha.” she said dryly, “Very funny. If somebody hadn’t scared me half to death knocking without warning- This place gives me the heebie jeebies. It’s cold and sterile and there are a bunch of things in jars around me with labels— thank god not animals- and now I broke one! You know, this- this is why I don’t come! I’m much better in my own space, with my own things!”

Luke was holding back his laughter at her distress, mouth covered, shoulders shaking. Penelope, cute even when worked up. No, especially when worked up.

“Would you just- Stop that! Make yourself useful! Get me a broom or something. What’s protocol in this situation? Luke! Stop! Help me clean this up!”

She thought about all the forms they’d signed, there must have been some mention of procedure in them.

“Okay, okay, calm down hotshot, just stay where you are, don’t move. I’ll get a broom, but we should let someone know… It could be some one-off sample…Tell me what it is and I’ll radio it in.”

Penelope, vigorously rubbing at her now tickling face, glasses removed, replied somewhat frustrated, “You’re going to have to read it yourself, apparently,I’m allergic.”

Cautiously covering his mouth and nose with his forearm, Luke walked over and crouched at her feet pulling a glove out of his pocket to pick up the labeled piece of broken jar, then looked up at her with wide eyes, “Crocoideae Eros, this? This is what broke?”

Penelope looked down at him nervously and stepped back, instinctively putting space between her and the concerning pile of shimmering gold dust, “Evidently…Is it bad? Oh god, are you going to call hazmat? Because let me tell you, I am NOT going to strip naked in front of a bunch of strangers and get washed down in some horrid tent like Reid I- I…”

Luke dropped the piece back into the pile and stood, laughing internally at both Penelope being allergic to it, and the predicament he found himself in with her. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it also wasn’t ideal. Certainly not given his certain feelings.

Penelope watched the red tip of his tongue swiping across his lower lip, leaving it full and shining now that his arm wasn’t hiding half his face, and his dimple pulling in hard on his cheek, and thought about what it would be to fill the divot with her own tongue… just… there…

Stop it- blinking rapidly, she pulled herself back to focus.

“You’re definitely going to feel like stripping down…but thankfully it’s not actually poisonous or deadly…I, um.” He faltered, frowning, suddenly becoming very warm at the subject and proximity, “I heard one of the researchers talking about it, it’s caused some very interesting reactions and interactions in the mice population.”

“Interesting?!” she shrieked in a panic, “What do you mean by interesting? Luke Alvez if I leave here with three legs-“

The loud laugh was startling, he certainly seemed to think this was more funny than concerning.

And he was so sexy when he laughed, head tossed back…

Try as she might, her focus seemed glued to that bit of exposed chest between his open collar, his long taut neck, Alvez talking about stripping…

She felt her breath getting heavier and a familiar vibrating warmth spark between her thighs.

“No, nothing like that, it’s…Cupid’s Crocus… it’s like nature’s super aphrodisiac.”

He catches her eye as those words, what he’s saying, settle in her head through the forming fog.

”You’ll start to feel warm, feel like stri-“ he clears his throat, she watches the tight movements of muscle under rough, tan skin, “feel uncomfortable in your clothes, you’ll feel, ah, desire, and desired…” The way he says it is dark and smooth chasing a chill down her spine.

A shiver he can’t help but notice.

“You won’t be able to resist it, you’ll seek relief… multiple times…It’s been the only way they’ve found it clears from the system.”

And then he sneezes.

“Oh” it isn’t clever, it isn’t enlightening, but it’s the thought she’s capable of voicing right then.

Somehow they’d drifted closer, very close. She can feel the heat radiating from him, every bit of her pulling towards him, wanting to reach out, screaming to reach out.

And then, “But what about you? You keep saying me, but you’re in here too, shouldn’t you be feeling it-”

“No-” It was meant to be a firm answer, but it sounded more like a weak protest.

He isn’t. He couldn’t be. He hadn’t even considered it because…

Because he always feels like this in some way around her. Always fighting the feelings he had, knowing she wouldn’t reciprocate, the feelings she conjured in him despite his trying to let them go.

But,

He feels it in his nose, just the slightest tickle. His heartbeat getting faster, internal temperature spiking as his pulse races.

Fuck.

“Maybe.” Luke swallows, pulling himself to the neighboring lab station, putting distance between them.

“but I wasn’t…”

Penelope, regaining some faculty, interrupts his denial. “We need to leave. We need to go back to our respective hotel rooms. And handle this. Separately. So we can…And come back when…When..” They’d be abandoning their team, their friends… someone was sure to notice and there was very possibly a murderer on the premises.

She watches Luke nod in agreement, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, staring at his own hands. His cheeks are tinted with a flush she’s never seen on him, the slight pinky-red shining through tan, and he swallows, but Penelope gets hung up tracking the bob of his Adam’s apple, the hum of his pulse…and loses her train of thought.

The sound of indecision is like ice cracking, a tiny strip of air, trapped, escaping her throat.

Luke grips the counter between them, but tears his eyes from his whiting fingertips, pulling them to the woman he’s willing himself not to look at like that. Like he’s the big bad wolf and she’s a particularly scrumptious and delectably plump pig. There are people who have died. People who are counting on them, but neither of them are any use like this and if they told anyone, if they told Emily, they’d be forced to- and yet increasingly all he’s able to think about is…

Clearing his throat, Luke agrees, they definitely need to get out of here.

Soon.

He’s wanted her for so long he’s not sure he can walk out of here with her. Beside her. Like this, knowing what he knows, and hold it together. Not act on it. Not lean into it. “Penelope-”

The sound is rough and dark, fresh asphalt, a shot of espresso straight to her bloodstream. Straight to his.

It jolts and wakes her, pupils dilating. She tries to focus, to ground herself, she’s gripping the pen in her hands so hard it might snap and her fingers ache. “…We should leave a note- A warn-“ she tries, a warning, to others, of the mess she’s made and left, but her voice is all breathy and velvety and feminine and fuck he looks good. She may only be using her very trusty personal items when she gets back to the hotel, but she won’t be able think about anyone but him.

And yes, if she were really able to feel anything besides absolute arousal right now, she’d feel awful about abandoning the case, but this would be like taking a lunch break, breaking for sleep, she reasoned. She knows neither of them will be of any use to the team, won’t be able to continue, if Luke’s lab rumors are true, until this is taken care of. The sooner the better.

Luke blinks, restraint. Patience. Restraint. “Whatever you need to do, do it quick.”

Penelope snags a turquoise Post-It and hurriedly scrawls “Sorry! -P” and bends down to leave it on the glittering mess before exiting the door Luke is impatiently holding open, head jerked to the ceiling after catching a fuller view of her very full chest with the provocative help of gravity and her maddening need to bend from the waist. Penelope bent over…he’d like to bend her over a lab table and…NO.

They start off at a brisk walk, his hand hovering on her lower back, each hurrying but trying not to draw attention to themselves, corner after corner they turn, feet moving quicker and quicker until giddy giggles burst forth from mouths straining for impassivity, the unexplainable excitement that’s been filling them with every foot fall.

They rush down the sleek, white hall, echos chasing, stop and start, stop and start, walk, scurry, walk, and suddenly Penelope’s heeled feet can’t keep up with Luke’s long strides and it feels like a joyful bubbling teeter, on a ledge falling or being pulled, rushing towards freedom, rushing towards the exit when Luke hears footsteps and suddenly grasps Penelope’s hand pulling her down a dark corridor in a sharp right, opening a door, immediately tugging her quickly after himself and jerking it tightly shut.

They’re each panting in the darkness, the room is small, a maintenance closet.

His actions were instinct more than anything. He knows what will happen if they’re found out, that it’ll derail the whole investigation, that he and Penelope will be taken off the case, either short term, or indefinitely. And that they’d become unwilling human case-studies in a government lab.

There was no way he was allowing that to happen to her.

They stay quiet for a moment, listening, and then Penelope’s the first to talk. “Luke, this wasn’t the plan-“ the remindercoming out as a whine. They were leaving here and going their separate ways, but now he’s super close, crowding her, and she can feel her chest, swollen and tender, her clothes, tight, conforming, her whole being warm, warm, warm. There’s a strong pulsing throb between her thighs when her nipples rise and fall, scraping against his chest, and she shifts her legs trying to stave off the feeling, for some slight release, but finds it only intensifies things…and that Luke seems to notice.

Her plead tickles his neck. He can feel her chest brushing against his and his hand that had been holding hers quickly climbs to her waist, fingers spreading to curl around, thumb sweeping. He knows he has feelings for her…doesn't want to cross a line…but each pollen invader is working over time in the war inside himself leaving little option and little room for rational thought; they march and sweep, a dust storm of override snapping and breaking each ‘right’ behavior, each redirection his chivalry tries to take, pushing onward in their own mission.

His tongue peaks out, licking his lip, his breath blowing heavy as he tries to speak through the fog that’s formed around him in the closet, but he’s looking at her through the darkness and he can’t really think of anything, anything beyond kissing swollen cherry lips. All he knows is they’re trapped and he can’t move and he’d do anything…anything but open the door and leave.

Neither says anything, speech seemingly shutdown, but there’s an exchange in looks, an understanding, an agreement. They can’t. They can’t. They need to get out. Penelope takes half a step back, all she can manage in the tight confines, but with the fall of her heel, snaps forward, and just as quickly Luke’s hands are catching her, down, gripping the soft flesh of her ass and lifting her leg, fingers digging in, kneading, spreading, holding her closer. Her lips are on his, and she can’t help the little cry that breaks from them as he spreads her legs around his thighs, the skirt of her dress slipping up, a large hand bracing firmly on her ass, grinding her soaked underwear against his bulging shaft, Penelope’s hips chasing sweet relief as shockwaves of pleasure pulse through her.

Her hands run up his forearms and her nails streak down, head rolling back as her body shudders with the feeling of his. Every point of contact an electrifying spark.

It’s the pollen, it’s just the pollen, she tells herself. For him, for her, as she cums just like that, breath pitching, legs shaking in his hold, quivering. Embarrassingly fast.

“Fuck,” is whispered into her hair, his eyes slamming shut as he bites down the coming confession. He hasn’t let an inch slip between them. In fact he gets closer, letting his forehead slip to her shoulder and she feels him, still just as hard, harder if possible, between them.

“How-“ he’s trying with all his strength to hold off, to hold back, to not roll them right now and pin her against the wall, to regain control, but the cloud of pollen rolls in, thickening at the sound and feel of her.

Deep inside he knows they need to leave, need to separate before it goes further, but his body takes action, the private pleasure of nuzzling her neck, the feel of her soft skin, “-D-Did it help?” He asks, covering. As if what he’d just done wasn’t driven by selfish and weak desire, as if he hadn’t dreamed of what she sounded like when she came, of her calling his name…but she hadn’t done that. And no. No, this was just because one of them needed a clear head…and she’d been infected first. And this was how they fixed it. It was that. He was just helping her. Them.

Her cheeks are flush and warm from the rush of climax and she’s sucking down air like a man drowning, but she feels the tingles that had taken over subsiding, the fog rolling away. She also feels his breath, warm and damp on her chillin, sweahsteened skin, fingertips drifting in circles and the faint tickle of eyelashes, the tip of his nose trailing, Penelope closes her eyes, biting her lip and nods, not trusting her own voice just yet.

Luke was still clearly under the effects of the pollen, besides the obvious, his hands haven’t quit roaming, gliding over the bodice of her dress, down her back, over her ass, bunching her skirt as they move back up, his heart thundering, and his lips at her collar starting to join.

He’s intoxicated, drunk- he wants to stop, to control himself, but he barely registers he’s doing anything at all, Luke trapped below the surface.

The clarity would be for nothing if she didn’t use it to help get them out of there, but she knows there’s no getting out unseen with Luke in his current state. Luke in his current state is doing his level best to work her back up and- blame the pollen- it’s working incredibly well. His hips writhe against her as his hands swirl and rub, lips sucking and teeth nipping and “-Luke” Penelope pants, hands landing on his shoulders.

“Chica,” he barely lifts his head in response, mouth a breath above skin.

“I’m gonna help you, alright? Then we can get out of here.”

There’s something he feels like he should be remembering, something about…something…what she means…but then hot hands are slipping between them and he feels the tight pinch as the button on his waistband is brought together then freed, feels the stress of the zipper and release around his straining cock, hot, damp, soft flesh grasping, wrapping. His jaw opens and glides, mouth sinking wider around the crook of her neck with an appreciative moaning sigh, teeth sensuously dragging up with the firm pull of her fist, full lips suckling up the column of her throat, hands feeling every part of her, hands like dutiful explorers traversing every inch. Hips rock and sway with the acton, thrusting and moaning, the friction of twisting pumps, faster and faster, the clink of plastic bangles dampened between bodies, his kisses becoming more and more insistent against her neck, her jaw, until she gives in, mouth finding his, Luke’s hips jerking, Penelope’s grip tightening- base to tip, base to tip, base to ti- base to- base- base- bay- A grunting whimper releases with hot cum, and then again as abs constrict and he thrusts up, Penelope’s hand slowing but not stopping, her other pressed into his chest forcing him back against the door, watching as his face contorts helplessly in pleasure and his body slumps, free of the first wave of invaders.

Clarity was a world of difference, a world of guilt, now that he was able to think straight. What had transpired, in normal circumstances, would certainly be considered actionable offenses of sexual assault on a coworker. He’d just assaulted Penelope; isolating her, trapping her, not following through with their plan, groping her, forcing her on him- “Pen-“

But she cuts him off immediately, “No. No talking. Talking later, now, we go. Before it hits again and we best case end up in another closet.”

Luke looks at her, hard concern, and she would swear there was a trace of hurt, but he jerks a nod, tucking himself away before rolling to listen at the door, cautiously opening it, and grasps her hand, leading them back out of the broom closet and down the last series of corridors before the exit.

“How convenient that this end of the lab’s been evacuated while we conduct our investigation” She whispers, thankful for the escape rout.

Glancing down at the obvious cum drying on his shirt, he huffs his agreement, “We need to tell the team something, they know I was coming to check in with you”

“You worry about getting us back to the hotel in time, I’ll handle the team.” The conversation ping ponged through the last remaining door, the pair making their way to the garage, serendipitously undetected.

Garcia: Famished- Alvez and I are grabbing lunch. Systems are running. Be back in 40!

She doesn’t send the text until Luke’s put the SUV in drive.

Thankfully, they didn’t have that long to go; just three lights and a highway separated dangerous exposure from solitary safety.

Penelope, flipping down the mirror, thumbs along her lip adjusting smudged- ok, nearly gone, lipstick. Rubbing her lips to spread it more evenly, Luke’s vision drifts, caught on the sight; fingers and lips, pucker and pout, the SUV drifting in kind, wheels riding heavy over the shoulder rumble strip.

“Hay!” snaps out, surprised eyes turning on him at the inadvertent turn-on, a combination of the vibration of the seat hitting, and her current heightened sensitivity. He jerks the car back to the lane, but just as shortly, her cheeks flushing and mouth dropping open, panting lightly, a little devious thought- a tiny little devil- whispershe do it again…and so he does. This time heavy lidded eyes watching intentionally.

Penelope jumps and gasps as they ride the strip longer, then pull off.

Back again: Three. Short. Bursts

His eyes flicker to the road and to her face, to her thighs falling open, wheels hitting the road studs, the vehicle thunking, her pelvis canting back, “Luke- stop- ple“ it’s a high and soft and beautiful kind of plead, she licks her lips and her shoulders roll back. He can feel his arousal spiking, erection growing, but doesn’t care, eyes darting to her chest, the redding pink exposed skin. Brushing back over the grooves, her hands grip either side of the seat, thighs squeezing tight together, eyes squeezing just as tightly, Luke so caught up in watching her, thinking what it would be to be in her, he almost misses their exit.

Neither devil nor angle, but something in between, forces him back to attention, back to their goal. The hotel. Right. With no further instigation he drives them there, Penelope adjusting her clothing and posture for the remainder of the trip.

She’s antsy, and bothered, and halfway there no thanks to him. She can feel herself dipping in and out, willing herself to remain, to not fall into to it, not lose grip and let those dastardly little antigens take over.

As soon as he pulls into the parking lot she’s unbuckling her seatbelt, hand on the door handle, but images crowed her mind, of him, the looks he’d given her, how he looked when he came…what the rest of him might look like…feel like, her body shivering at the prospect.

The door tugs from her grasp, snapping her out of it, and there he stands, all six feet of his broad, muscled toughness and it doesn’t help things. Hand in his again, he pulls her, pushes her, guides her to the building, no time to loose…for either of them.

The elevator to the third floor is fraught with stubborn and eroding self-control, every little spore riffling through his memory for every dirty, sexy, flirty, inappropriate thought and interaction they’ve had in spaces like this egging him on, building their case. He looks at her then, Penelope glancing over at the same time.

shit

she gets caught in the heat

Gaze locked on gaze for one beat, two- a second too long, she should have looked away…her mouth drops open, his eyebrows raising, and he pulls her into his arms, Penelope taking a seven story swan dive into the haze, the pulse and throb of his touch-

but then-

he stops.

Forehead on forehead, breath on breath, she can feel the pinch of his brow, and slowly, so slowly, they meet in the scant middle, her lips dancing on his, molasses, honey, sweet and languid, indulgent, a shared shuddering breath before it all comes crashing down, grip tightening, arms locking, Penelope on her toes, catching every deep and ravenous kiss befalling her, frantic, and lustful and desperate she clings to his hold, every atom in her shattering the reminding voice getting more and more distant, every atom in her needing to get closer and closer- no space between them until-

a ding, an involuntary whimper when the shrill sound pierces through, she stops.

The rattle of doors, a short gruff grunt at her absence as his hands flinch to release her.

The elevator opens, and Penelope, catching her breath, stares directly at the floor, knowing what will happen if she looks up again.

Her room. Alone. That was the plan. Despite whatever she thinks she’s feeling, despite whatever he maybe thinks is a good idea, it’s the pollen, nothing more.

She doesn’t say anything, no excuse, no apology, no goodbye, using all of her will, she quickly scurries from the pull of his gravity, but his legs propel him just as far, step for step Luke is trailing Penelope, heavy breath and fixed energy stretching between them, and their rooms, one right next to the other.

She stops short, fumbling with her bag to find the keycard, Luke bumping into her as he passes, jolting to a stop, his hand shooting out instinctually to keep her from falling, the brush of his fingertips, the pressure and warmth of his hand around her hip, she lets herself fall just a bit into him, Luke groaning, her ass cradling into his groin, his hand drifting lower, fingers lengthening, spreading, bracing her against him, signaling she come closer, her body following direction, soft and heavy into firm and hard. A breath escapes, her head rolls back, digits sliding over fabric finding the slope between her thighs, Penelope quietly moaning at the indescribable pleasure two thick fingers are capable of drawing on tense nerves.

He kisses and sucks her neck, feet shuffling forward, Penelope’s hands falling flat on the door, hips, cock, pressing into her ass, all he can hear is her helplessly breathy moans and pants as he strokes her wet clit over and over again through fabric, his free hand finding hers, feeling the key, slipping it from her grip and opening the door, each of them tumbling in.

They barely detach before he’s bolted them back together, the force of their bodies colliding sending him backward, slamming the door shut. “Alvez- Lu-“ she’s panting and babbling, trying, but she doesn’t remember what to say, what she was going to say, just his name fills her, knocks her, sending her over. And his reaction to her calling him- hands and lips and legs and cock. He turns her, pinning her against the door, a muscled thigh and straining bulge pushing between legs, persuading passage, mouth drifting down her throat, she can hear him breathing heavy- or maybe it’s her, his thigh lifting and pressing and hips rolling, hands on her waist, hands framed around her as he steals another deep kiss.

He’s entirely lost at the wheel, no longer Luke making decisions, but pollen. Penelope, hot and wanting, the way her body reacts to his, fuck, the sounds she’s making, all drive him further and further into the haze. Her blunt nails scratching down his back and dragging over his scalp, the sharp tug to his roots when he presses his thigh further into her and how she sinks onto it whimpering, legs trembling. “Yes- yes-“ drifts past his ear. His tongue and his mouth pause briefly over the delicate skin they’ve been worshiping, moving up, lips tracing ear as he suggests just as lightly, “more?”

“Yes-“

It’s all he needs before his hands fly to his jeans, briefs and pants pulling down, and shirt flinging off in one rushed move, quick hands moving under her skirt as he jostles, toeing off his shoes and stepping out of each pant leg, his fingers curling and pulling her underwear down, bunching her skirt up, guiding her leg around his. Rapidly he swoops and bucks, Penelope shrieks, startled, fingers braced on his shoulders digging in as the ready begging tightness of her suddenly fills and protests- a shriek that turns into panting mewls as he gently kisses, sucks and nuzzles her full tits. He’s humming and murmuring, lips skipping across skin, stubble scratching as he sips away and she isn’t even aware of how her top has suddenly been removed but she’s glad he’s found a way.

He’s taken by her plushness, how soft and smooth, creamy and warm her skin is, her perfume and oil, the musk he can smell, directing every lush lick and sensuous rub to her nipples. Her hands slide over his neck and down his back, move to his hips, his ass, fingers tightening, squeezing him closer, Luke growls at the prompt, bucking harshly, Penelope moaning, a throaty filthy thing, and his hands reach for hers, slamming them against the door, palms kissing palms, arms pinning arms, her leg wrapping tighter. He thrusts again, hips snapping, and she cries out, fingers curling, fresh wetness flooding his cock, he does it again and again, each door-rattling thrust garnering him a warbling moan or wailed sob. He kisses her, her lips, her cheek, her jaw, her throat, across her shoulder and over her bouncing tits, leaving little bites and nips, sucking skin between his lips and soothing with his tongue, all the while his cock pounding up into her, her leg climbing ever higher on his hips, calf and foot draped powerlessly around him in his single minded pursuit of claiming her, of streaking her with pleasure. His hips dip and rise, in and out, deep and far, thick and fast and rough, over and over, a brutal pace. The swollen muscle of his V pressing and rubbing relentlessly, the base of his cock, the sharp burst of air and slip of skin, fluids adding to the sting, pleasure, pain, frantic, urgent, he can feel her tightening around him, her velvet walls sucking his shaft, clenching, her thigh trying to hold him, and then the most beautiful thing, her moans and wails morph.

“Yes, yes, oh- fudge, yeah, yeh- Lu-, please, ye-rig-LuUke!” Tight spasms grip his shaft, Penelope thrashing, head turning left and right, legs quaking, the door slamming around them, body and palms pressing into hers, her fingers curling around, nails digging into the backs of his hands as he brings himself to finish, ruthlessly pushing her through her constricting orgasm and right into another as cum and lube spread slick down his cock, Luke gasping a breathless moan.

Spent, he slows, grip and full-body pin relaxing but still there for support, Penelope unsteady. They’re breathing hard, his forehead resting against the cool door as he slips out of her. She clears her throat, her leg dragging down his thigh, and just like that he’s snapped back again, blood rushing, fully erect, sunk beneath the ice.

There is no clarity, no lust subsided this time, only the immediate need to be joined with her. Buried. Fully. Feeling the hot, wet, tremor of her massaging him, sucking him. Endlessly. His cock aches, throbs, feels like bursting- this time is worse than the first, this is awful, the demand, the pull, the burn of surging arousal, nerve endings on fire, Luke flinches curling forward in a cramping wave of pain that quickly washes into a roaring aphrodisia.

He takes her hands, thumbs brushing palms, and brings each to his lips, pressing a tender, seductive kiss to the backs that had faced such force. “Please, I need to-“ it’s desperate, and wanting, he guides her hand to his firm, saluting cock, eyes connected with hers, pleading, hand over hand guiding hers in pumping up and down his veiny shaft, lids sinking, timber changing, deep and velvet, “Chica, I want you to straddle me, I want you above me, riding me, and milking me, and using me, I wanna see your face, your head tossed back and your chest thrust out as ecstasy rains through your body. I want to see you shake and quiver from my touch- I need to feel it, I need to see it. Penelope-”

Her thoughts war, struggling between what she should do and what she’s already done; the lack of complication in solitude, the plan to separate which they’d already broken, the want to help, needing to get it out of their systems, all the while pollen invaders sending her body lighting from their shared movement. Dangerously, she looks to him, his eyes filled with sincere longing -and lust- It sweeps through her, a warm blossom low in her belly, the feeling erotic, all thought beyond reason, all urgency gone as the same fog washes over her, and all she can do is nod.

Drifting, floating they’ve unknowingly been making their way from the door to the bed. Luke collapses as the backs of his legs hit the edge. Looking up at her through hooded lids, hands playing with the fabric of her dress still gathered around her waist, Penelope pushes his chest. Complying, Luke falls easily backward, a knee settling between his legs. His breath becomes heavy and he drags himself back further on the bed, Penelope crawling over him, the hem of her skirt tickling knees, thighs. She leans down, kissing him, Luke lifting to meet her, his hands searching for the zipper, for her bra clasp, finding them, tugging and unhooking. Feeling the items loosen Penelope breaks away, pleased at the whine she hears as she settles back on his quads. Not what he wanted. She grabs the skirt, arms crossed, and lifts, pulling it over her head, bra coming with it, Penelope free of her fabric confines, Luke now treated to the glorious sight of her bare, on top of him.

His eyes roam from lustrous dark curls to heavy hanging, plump tits flecked red, raising them up further he scans her face, mouth slightly parted, cheeks flush, little blonde buns a fuzzy mess, and her eyes, those sweet brown candies, he sees are watching him, too.

Her tongue peeks out, starting at his slack sharp jaw, glossy plump lips, drifting down to muscular, tan skin scattered with scars, his firm chest and cut abs…lower she follows the trail of hair that starts at his belly, down to the valley between his peaking hipbones, the meaty curves that frame them…lower still to his blushing cock, Penelope licking her lips. She clenches as devious thoughts fill her head. Bending forward, hands on the bed next to his thighs, she places a gentle kiss to the hot, shining tip, Luke hissing, his dick jumping, Penelope, grinning to herself and leaning further up his body.

“Chica-“ Luke gasps, pleading for the only relief he knows.

Warm lips fall on his neck, tongue swirling, and then cascade further, tasting him. Down she sinks slowly over his chest, capturing nipples between wet lips, tongue lapping across the edges, the feel of it making him shiver, the feel of it on her tongue making her throb, she slips down further, lips skating between abs, tongue dipping into belly, he’s soapy, and salty, and tastes just a little like he smells- earthy and divine. Further, skin hot on her slick mouth, Penelope tongues around the curly base of his shaft, Luke’s hips jumping under her, hands gripping the blanket. She peeks up, hair falling in her eyes, catching him watching her with a gaze so hot, so intense, she feels like she’s being set ablaze, she blinks, her skin rushing with heat and straightens, shivering. Crawling back up his body, gaze unbroken, hips hovering above hips, she grasps his shaft, guiding the tip to her slick lips. Stoping momentarily, Penelope rubs him from clit through split vulva, over her entrance and back again, twitching and moaning at the light feel of his soft, spongy head on her stimulated nerves, then, realigning, presses him into her, gradually sinking down, down, head tilting back, eyes closing, mouth dropped open to release a shaky sigh, Luke, a perfectly delicious fit.

Luke watches as his not-so-secret fantasy comes to life, how gratified she looks at just the fill of him, her chest glistening, heaving with light breath, blossoming pink and red. Flat palms reverently ghost up bare thighs and her eyes flutter open, his vision shifts from his own drifting hands to her watching him and back. His palms climb further, smoothing up thick, spread, hips and over her belly, he feels her body squeeze around his cock so snug inside her, fingertips trail up her sides as hands slip under heavy chest, cradling, thumbs brushing and swirling her nipples, she shudders, her hips canting forward and back, Penelope rocking herself to the movement, a sigh trapped behind her bitten lip.

She hates how stupid it is, generic, cliché, and maybe it’s the pollen, it’s definitely the pollen, because everything about this is like a lazy romance novel; the way she moulds perfectly around his cock, how very Goldilocks or Arthurian it is, how his hands are forming around her breasts and his fingers are rolling her nipples just right and he’s strong and beautiful and looking at her full of love and wonder and she feels that bubbling warmth spreading as she slowly rides him back and forth, back and forth, grateful, pleasured, little mewls slipping out, the tickle of his velvety cock rubbing against her slick walls, her movements deepening, an exaggerated roll from pelvis to spine, her breath coming faster, going higher and higher with every undulating rock, the feel of his fingers sending signals shooting through her, Luke’s full mouth sucking on her tits, her hips swooping and swooping, thrusting and rolling, coming faster and faster, her hands on the balls of his shoulders as he disengages, laying back, watching as she takes selfishly from him.

He’s mesmerized by the woman, the goddess atop him, the sight of her, Penelope in the throws, quickening, watching him, connected to him, until her eyes slip shut, mouth dropped, head tilting, tits thrusting out, her own hands twisting and pinching rosey nipples, shoulders rolling back, Penelope glowing, euphoric. His thumbs sweep the tender skin of her inner thighs, “beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,“ aches in his murmur.

She realizes it’s just like he said, she’s high above him chasing her pleasure, moaning and sighing, his large, calloused hands caressing her shaking thighs, his timber, her hips rolling, she can’t stop, spine straightening, head tossing back, her disheveled buns finally falling, long hair cascading, legs convulsing at his touch, her body milking him tightly, he feels so good, he feels so good, he feels- so good, he feels- so good, he feels- he feels- he fEELS- HE- Her breath climbs and with it he’s pulled along, more, more, more, harder, stronger, firmer, Luke dizzying from what he’s sure has to be every blood cell in his body now in his cock, standing proud for her, being sucked and pulled and choked by her desperate cunt, encouraging through breathless pants, “that’s right- keep going- just like that- Gorgeous-” it’s a whispered chant that doesn’t let up, becomes more and more strained, more and more airy.

A catching stroke has her eyes fluttering open, immediately finding his own transfixed on her, the second they connect he tightens like a kick, cock jumping, swelling, hitting her just right, pushing her over, Penelope cumming and Luke just as suddenly, eyes glossing and pupils dilating, a grunting moan mixing with her throaty pitching one, Penelope calling his name again, warbling, her thighs clenching him like a riding horse, his hips thrusting, hands holding fast to her as rough hot spurts of cum fill her again.

Catching her breath, coming down, she suddenly feels a skin-crawling urge to climb off him, to escape this embarrassing situation and hide it in a box on a shelf in a dark closet.

She will not play the fool

which is how she knows

Shamefully her arms move to cross, covering some part of herself, “Right…I think…I’m…Are you…good?” Looking at him she isn’t sure she can tell, his eyes still shining and dark, a dreamy grin on his face, and he hasn’t stopped petting her legs, drawing circles.

“You mean free of glittering gold Cupid’s arrows?” He briefly takes stock, “I can say with wavering confidence that I believe they’ve run their course.”

“Well. Good. We should get back then,” she states matter of factly, and, grabbing her dress and underwear, she dismounts him, disappearing into the bathroom to dress and fix herself up.

Luke lays on the bed for a moment longer watching her leave.

Loving her is hard. Will be even harder now.

Penelope’s always been easy to read, that’s never been the problem, the problem is her words, her actions, don’t often match what he believes to be true. A hand rests over his heart as he thinks about what just happened and wonders where they go from here. He knows where he’d like to go, he’d like to not have to go back to the lab, he’d like for her to have stayed here next to him, lazy fingers playing on his skin, he’d like…for her to just open herself up to trying…be brave…He’d like that most of all. But he can guess where she’d have them go.

Each redressed, looking less ravaged, they make their way in silence out of the hotel and into the SUV, Luke opening her door, driving them, Penelope uncharacteristically giving no lip. The ride is quiet, so quiet he can’t stand it, so quiet he’s decided to hell with it. At least this might get some reaction. “So,“ he lets out a light, nervous, chuckle “Uh, Garcia-Pen… “

”Luke,” she huffs exasperated. Great he’s going to apologize, or- worse yet- remind her it was nothing. Just what she needs. “it’s fine, we can be adults about this. It was hitting you faster, and a lot stronger than it was me, maybe because you’re a guy and you know, testosterone, and virility, and sex drive and all that,- not that I don’t have a fantastic sex drive, I do- that’s not what I meant, that’s not the point… Ah- whatever, but it’s fine. Adults. We’re capable.” So what if they’d just had fantastic, mind-blowing sex? Multiple times. It doesn’t matter that no one has looked at her like he did. Does. He is Luke and she is Penelope, and they are just two members of the BAU who now share this weird secret they can never tell anyone…

Fluff She gets side tracked thinking about not telling, then starts bargaining with herself about who she really can tell.

NO ONE.

Because they are coworkers! That’s all. All the heightened emotions, the feelings, the feeling- it means nothing, because it was the pollen. Eros. Cupid. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…they both did.

“Yeah…” Luke nods distractedly, entertaining the thought of lying, brushing it off, and just agreeing with her, but realizes he can’t anymore. “Actually,” and then he shakes his head, “no. Whatever that means, no. I don’t want it. I don’t want to- I’m pretty sure it hit me as strong and fast as it did because…I have feelings for you. So, if that means forgetting this, that this was meaningless or forgettable, that you are forgettable- you want me to forget…No. It wouldn’t be possible for me. This is not forgettable to me. And, I don’t want it to be.”

“Well…” she sputters, completely thrown, “tough crackers, mister. We work together, you can’t- you have to forget-“ She isn’t sure why she says it, it’s not like the whole working together thing has ever really stopped anyone and she’s pretty sure she does like him a whole lot…a whole lot.

Luke laughs glancing over, “Why? Rossi and Strauss worked together, you and that tech guy-” and then he stops, a creeping horrible thought dawning on him. Suddenly he wants to pull over, wants to never have brought it up, wants to fold into himself. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him and he feels like such an ass.

The words seep out, Luke helpless to stop the slow crawl from brain to tongue, “… If it worked fast on me because of my feelings…it didn’t work as fast on you because…you don’t.”

She could lie…she could tell him that was right, she doesn’t have feelings for him, feelings that, despite her best efforts in resistance, he’s only managed to force into growing. She’s staring at her lap, at her fidgeting fingertips, but she sees his head turned toward her, vision bouncing from road to her. She looks up at him, pleading he not make her say it, pleading he let it go…and watches as his expression turns from hope, to disappointment, to resignation.

“Right. Right.” He turns back, defeated, crushed. A hand lets go of the wheel rubbing his face. He can see it in her eyes, but it’s not his place to force her.

“You know what? No-“ quickly he pulls over to the side of the highway

“Luke! The lab!”

“No one’s texted either of us, just. Let me say this. I want to give this a chance. Penelope, I’ve liked you for…so long. I know you feel the same, I know you’re scared-“

“You don’t know anything-”

He grips the steering wheel tightly out of frustration, growling, “Then tell me. Tell me honestly, and I’ll stop. Tell me honestly, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

Looking at him, she frowns, her voice growing small “I….I can’t-“

“Then let’s try. We’ve already got the hard part out of the way, we know how to be around each other… Let me take you to dinner, let me try to make you happy.”

“Ha! Being with you is the opposite of happy-” her face breaks, the jab is familiar footing, teasing.

“Penelope, I’m serious! You already know I’m here for you, you know… that I love you. If there’s some part of you…that thinks you love me too, let me try to make that part happy…”

The smile melts, her eyes turning sad and watery, and he knows what comes next, ”…Luke, we need to get back.” It’s not an answer, but it is.

He can’t recall the last time he’s felt this way, but right now isn’t the time. He shuts his eyes stuffing it all back into a box and pulls the gear shift, glancing over his shoulder before pulling back onto the highway. Some gambles don’t pay off.

They’re minutes from the lab, trees passing, neither saying a word, his eyes carefully trained on the road, on the cars around them, Luke set on simply getting them back when her voice breaks through the white noise of tires on asphalt.

His head jerks as he glances, not really hearing her, “What was that?”

Penelope clears her throat, speaking louder, “I said, but I’d like to try…”

Slowly, a small smile spreads in reaction, a warm and happy kind of smile she’s never seen, free of cheek and mischief “Yeah?”

Penelope nods rapidly, sucking down a steadying breath, “yeah.”

#garvez #criminal minds #penelope garcia #luke alvez #smut #sex pollen #fan fiction #criminal minds fan fiction #fluff #snails tales #ao3

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