#outdoor shopping center

[formeryelpers]

Marin County Mart, 2257 Larkspur Landing Cir, Larkspur, CA 94939

This shopping complex, which used to be known as Larkspur Landing, has gone completely upscale. Honestly, it looks a lot like an outdoor shopping mall in Malibu and Brentwood, Los Angeles, and I suspect that the same developers were responsible for the three. It doesn’t feel really like a Northern California mall to me, but it is very attractive and pleasant. Also, some of the businesses are only found in the Bay Area and some are national.

It's not a huge mall but it has nice shops including Diptyque, Fred Segal, Design Within Reach, Topdrawer, Veronica Beard, etc. There are clothing stores, stationery stores, a toy store, home décor stores, fragrance stores, a bookstore, spas, fitness studios, a bank, post office, and lots of restaurants. Restaurants are more casual than formal and include a wide range of cuisines. Some of them are Souvla, Shake Shack, Rustic Bakery, Pressed Juicery, Johnny Doughnuts, Miette, Hog Island Oyster, and El Huarache Loco. I saw lotions from Italy, candles from France, and lots of lovely things to covet.

There are grassy areas, lots of restaurants with outdoor patios, and it’s walking distance to the ferry. The farmer’s market is every Saturday morning. Parking was easy to find.

5 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

[midnight-scrivener]

Didn't want to derail this post too much bc funny posts should be allowed to stay that way, but I really think OP is onto something here tbh!!! Malls (in usamerica) are full of high end brands and luxury items. No one goes to a mall because they NEED what's there. Malls are dying precisely because there's no place in a big mall for basic quality-of-life shit. The thing about blacksmiths and alehouses and apothecaries and peddlers is that they all existed to meet real, practical needs. They brought people into town for a reason, and then if those people bought a little treat while they were there, or stopped and chatted with someone, or had another little human experience, that was all an added bonus.

In Central Florida, the two major malls are sprawling expanses of Armani and Gucci boutiques, high end clothing and dining experiences. The Florida Mall has a straight up brick-and-mortar Tesla store in the middle of it (that I've never seen anyone go inside). There's no room for little human experiences. If you have to go, you're not exploring. You get the rare item you need and get out. Malls are labyrinths of globalized corporate excess, and in the world those same corporations have built, no one can afford to be excessive anymore. Malls are starving because there's no longer a comfortable middle class upon which they may glut themselves.

A positive alternative to this is a revived mall by my house: its department stores are shuttered (the corpse of a JC Penny WILL be possessed by Spirit Halloween this month), the cinema hangs on by airing international films and special events, and the storefronts that were once chain shops and the same textureless, featureless shopping mall fare have been replaced by local small businesses. There's a vintage consignment shop and a board game store that holds weekly community gaming events. A gutted sears has become a brewery and arcade (an alehouse?). BUT there's also a small grocery corner store (a peddler?). There's a daycare. There are maintenance and construction firms (blacksmiths?). There's a music school. There's a drug store (an apothecary?). The mall itself hosts walking events and parties and scavenger hunts that encourage people to come in and wander and engage with their community.

So yeah I think OP is hitting up on something real here. People who come for quality of life shit will stay and start finding each other. The way to make malls live again is to allow them to grow what feels real and right, instead of forcing them to seed this hollow, homogenized isolation.

[guzmapkmn-archive]

There's an ambulance and fire truck outside...

[stephantom]

I can’t believe how much I miss LA. The winter here is killing me. It’s just so gray and barren. How did I grow up like this.

[brandanodisplays]

Animated Christmas Decorations West Palm Beach

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[firstandtownmaincenter]

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[galariangengar]

💭

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Mr. Rogers Did Not Adequately Prepare Me For The People In My Neighborhood Garden Yard Flag

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Fabric Care Instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry.

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Flag post is NOT included.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

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Shop our Mr. Rogers Did Not Adequately Prepare Me For The People In My Neighborhood Garden Yard Flag! This is a perfect gift for anyone who wants to joke around with their neighbors. Our Garden Yard Flags make great Housewarming Gifts! Shop Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations other Garden Flags!

Garden flags are an exciting and easy way to express yourself and add some color and cheer to your home, your porch and/or garden especially with the many different options of Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations Garden Flags! Decorative and eye-catching garden flag to theme your home outdoor yard. Our Garden Flags make great Housewarming Gifts!

Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations can also personalize your Garden Flag with a monogram, your family name and much, much more; please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com to personalize your Garden Flag.

Our designed is on a durable 11.81 x 17.72 inches, white single layer, polyester durable garden flag.

Fabric Care Instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Flag post is NOT included.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

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[crystallilytarot]

Choose an item! Your future home

Pile 1

I feel it's in the suburbs area, but if not, than still there's some green, a park maybe, lots of trees near to your home. Not a little town, but you still have some privacy. Feels like it's a place which is good to have a family. Probably there's schools near to you, shops, pharmacy, but also your or your partner's workplace can be nearby too. You can have some fun or unique tapestry or pictures in the wall. Some flowers or plants. The sky is blue, you have a beautiful scene when you look out of the window. There's some more expensive items too, or some memories. But you want to use the home, so it's not a museum, it's practical too. But also cozy. There's a good, comfortable couch, and probably some place to work or to do your hobby.

Pile 2

I feel it's more likely in a city, maybe a high building, but you can have a balcony, I think there's some outdoor place too, and there's some plants, you can relax there, probably a nice lounge. Can be here a pool or jacuzzi too, but definitely a beautiful bathroom, almost like a spa. It's a luxurious home. You can see something like that in a home decor magazine maybe, or in pinterest. The kitchen is big, quality items there, maybe some marble things, and probably a big living room or a dining room, where you can talk with your friends too, or have some family gathering. Feels a little minimalistic, probably some neutral colors, black, white, grey. But the bedroom can be a little more romantic, some family pictures or pictures of you and your partner.

Pile 3

You can move here with your partner, and maybe it's not just a different city but a different country too. Feels like you need to renovate a few things here, but that way it will be just like you two imagined. Probably some DIY projects too. I feel a rural area or a small town, for someone it can be near some water or in the beach. Feels a little rustic, cottagecore or farmhouse style. Not neccesseraly a farm, but it's the style. Quiet, you will have plenty of places, probably a big garden too. Maybe you will move here after your wedding or before your first child. It feels very cozy, safe, a warm home. Some vintage stuff, but also a few new decor. Lots of rooms and probably the kitchen is the center of the house. Maybe an outdoor cooking place in the garden too.

[captain-silvera]

Copperdale City Center

DOWNLOAD

CC Free 20x20 lot

Don’t forget ‘bb.moveobjects on’ cheat to place the lot correctly!

Function as community center. Include gym, cafe, second-hand shop and grosery.

Packs required: Get to Work, Get Together, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Seasons, Get Famous, Island Living, Outdoor Retreat, SPA Day, Dine Out, Parenthood, Jungle Adventure, StrangerVille, Perfect Patio Stuff, Cool Kitchen Stuff, Kids Room Stuff, Backyard Stuff, Bowling Night Stuff, Fitness Stuff.

TOU: don’t reupload or claim as yours!

if you end up using my builds, tag me or @ me, i’d love to see it!

[guzmapkmn-archive]

Ough. It's raining.

[milkteabinniechan]

tu es si belle - felix

pairing: bf! Felix x gn! reader ♡ commissions // m.list

context: just a romantic imagining of a Parisian vacation with your boyfriend. Fluffy fluff and love<3333

Crunch, crunch, crunch

You had no idea that French pastry would have such a flaky outside. Your fork pressed down to break off a piece, and the dollop of cream on top poured down deliciously in the open space that was left.

"How is it?" Felix sputtered, his mouth already full of an almond croissant he had ordered earlier.

You smiled fully to give your approval of the delicate Persian pastry. You glanced around at the outdoor cafe. Many patrons enjoying their espresso and talking in their native tongue. You focus to try to make out what they are saying, only a few words translate on your mind.

"I love.... shopping... tomorrow....with my mother I will...." Was all you could understand.

You turn your attention to Felix, who had centered all of his notice on you. Sunlight seemed to pour out from every inch of him. You basked in the light for a moment, letting your eyes closed as you listened to the je suis revenu dans le film of the music around you.

"Paris suits you," Felix whispered close to your neck, "You look so beautiful."

"Maybe we should just live here, then." You teased, taking another fork-full.of flaky pastry.

"Well, I have been looking at apartments." Felix gave you a sly smile, still enjoying his croissant.

You lean your back towards him and rest your head onto his shoulder. You let your mind swing and swirl with thoughts of old brick apartments and wrap-around balconies. You could almost hear the clink clink clink of your vintage typewriter you bought from a secondhand store down the road. Felix would come home and see you curled up by the open window, listening to the sounds of the city below you. Babies crying, children playing, bicycle bells rings up through the air.

You lifted your chin up to meet your eyes with Felix. You both knew that with his job and your family, you could never just leave for Paris. That life had weighed you both down heavy with responsibility. That leaving to live in a new country was magical, but not practical. This vacation had to end sometime. But for right now, you fantasized feverishly about the life you could have with the man you loved. And for right now, this is everything you ever needed; love, music, and a pastry.

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics

[brandanodisplays]

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[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 13

Warnings:Language, alcohol, brief politics mentioned/talked about, teasing, sexually charged situations/sex eluded to, gratuitous smut, fingering, oral, squirting, scissoring, spit, mommy kink, use of the word kitten, choking, we’re gonna call it snowballing, breeding kink, rough sex, derogatory dirty talk, I think that about sums it up…

Monday:

The flight wasn’t long, a little over two hours, just enough to finally have a breather from the constant and slightly stress inducing work week Heather’s team had had. You spent most of it on your work phone, queuing up social media posts and statements on Heather’s accounts, double checking her approval before you confirmed everything. You were going over the itinerary for the week with her assistant Cynthia when Heather came up, tsk'ing at both of you as she pinched your arm, leaving flutes of champagne on the table, reminding you both to relax as she disappeared into the back of the jet.

That was the one thing about travelling while part of the Dunbar team, it didn’t matter how work heavy the trip was going to be, she was always going to make sure everyone got to actually enjoy the trip too. There would likely be a couple of days book ending the work days to take advantage of amenities, explore the city or just relax on the beach. She had already pencilled in a few dinners and mini festivities into the agenda, spreading out the brown nosing and elbow rubbing that would need to be done on top of panels and meetings.

Landing in Florida you were whisked away to The Ritz-Carlton resort, naturally Heather had a one bedroom suite booked for herself with a separate living room where you would all meet whenever privacy was needed. She kept you in a smaller adjoining suite most trips, this one included, with Cynthia on the other side of your room. If anyone else was brought with, they were usually down the hall, giving them a little bit more space from the work side of things as they would likely only be needed once or twice during the week.

The resort was gorgeous, ocean views, beachfront property, multiple pools and plenty of things to keep you occupied. Four restaurants and bars, coffee shop and café, tennis courts, an entire golf course, fitness center, full service spa along with a plethora of outdoor activities included with your stay ranging from kayaking to horseback riding. There was absolutely no way that any of you would have a spare minute to be bored, not on a trip like this.

Check in was a breeze and you were escorted upstairs where you promptly told Heather you were crashing for a nap, the extra early morning meetings straight into the flight had utterly wiped you. Knowing that you’d been putting in far too many overtime hours, including over the weekend she had no complaints, heading out to explore the resort with Cynthia.

When you woke up a couple of hours later you thankfully felt refreshed and after a brief checking of your phone you decided to head downstairs to check out the gym. You wanted to get a run in and there was no way you were doing it outside midday, it may have been December but you were still in Florida. There were a few familiar faces downstairs that you said a friendly hello to or shared some small talk, and you were more than well aware of a Congressman’s eyes on your ass as you did your cool down stretching.

Back upstairs you could hear Heather on the phone in her room, and knowing there was either dinner or drinks happening tonight, you figured you would jump in the shower, getting ready and presentable for the evening. It gave you the warm up and rejuvenating time you would need, slipping into the more extroverted role you would have to play for the week, friendly, approachable and even a little flirty to everyone while remaining quick and smart as a whip to always come out on top and get all the support and backing you could.

Politics was a nothing but a game of strategy, after all.

*

Tuesday:

You knocked on the door leading to Heather’s adjoining suite, her voice calling out only a second later.

“It’s open.”

Opening the door, you stepped through it into the living room area, Heather glancing up from her laptop, “got a weird request.” You started, “you’re a master at French braiding and I’ve been trying and failing for like twenty minutes now.”

“You look dressed for golfing.” She commented, “you don’t know how to golf, my kids beat you at mini golf before they were ten. Are you seriously golfing?”

“Yeah.” You replied with a shrug, “I mean I’m not going to actually golf, I’m going to sit in the cart, serve drinks and bat my eyelashes until three more congressmen are wrapped around my finger.”

“And you need French braids for that because…?”

“Have you seriously not seen any of those videos going around?” You asked and she shook her head, “it’s like a trend, bartenders testing out hairstyles to see what makes the most tips and pig tails always wins. Double French braids count, so why not see if it makes any difference.”

“I’m not even sure I want to think about the logic behind that.” She grimaced, “but come here, sit.”

Heather gestured to the ottoman in the middle of the room and you followed her instructions, handing off the supplies you’d brought from your room. As you knew, she was an absolute whiz at it, after quickly combing through your hair she had one braid in and swiftly finished the other one, tying a tiny elastic around it. She tilted your head side to side to make sure it was even before tapping at your chin,

“Up. Face me.”

You did as asked, turning to face her, waiting as her eyes surveyed your outfit, short pleated white skirt and a patterned green and blue collared tank top, it tied at the bottom so just enough amount of skin would peek out and had a zipper on the top half that controlled the level of neckline.

“Cute.”

“Tony picked it out.”

“Not surprised.” She murmured, her fingers gently tugging the shirt down a little bit before the moved to the zipper, undoing it further than you previous had it, plucking at the fabric until she was satisfied with the amount of cleavage showing, “now, wear it like he would want you to.” You rolled your eyes but let her continue fixing the fabric, “there.”

“Am I free to go Ma’am?” You asked dryly and she chuckled at your tease.

“Have fun, but don’t get drunk, we’ve got that dinner tonight.”

“Heather I approved your schedule, I know.”

With a glance and a last thank you for the hair help, you disappeared back into your own suite before leaving to tackle the day.

*

Dinner that night was at KOJO, a high end Asian inspired restaurant with plenty of offerings to choose from and an extensive list of Soju ready to sample. It was an extended dinner, debating over politics, views, upcoming bills and legislations that everyone wanted heavy backing on. Plates of tofu bites, gyoza, truffled chicken wontons, wok fried green beans, boa buns and a plethora of sushi were passed around the table until everyone had had their fill.

Heather swiped the bill before a debate on how to split things up could even think about being started, earning her more brownie points than anyone else at the table. By the time the cheque was signed there were a handful of verbal agreements, some future lunches or meetings over cocktails planned for the week, and a few under the table handshakes securing offers.

A quick debrief was had in Heather’s suite before the others made their way out for the evening, either to bed or for a nightcap to wind down. Heather stepped out of her heels, letting out a soft sigh at the sensation, beginning to take off her jewellery, placing it back into the travel case.

“You did fantastic work tonight.” She praised, turning back to face you “how was golfing? Looks like you got some sun.”

“It was fine.” You shrugged, “secured Talbot’s support, flirted my way into Swanson’s good books even if it means I’ll have to have drinks later this week and promised to go on a date with his very eligible bachelor of a son when we’re back in town.”

“God.” She rolled her eyes, “talk about going above and beyond, you’ll never fail me sweetheart. You are a godsend; you know that right?” Her hands landed on your shoulders, squeezing gently as she smiled at you.

“Of course.” You grinned, “you always told me that hard work would pay off. And if I went for extra credit on trips like this… I’d be rewarded.”

“Ah…” her lips curved up into a smirk as her fingers trailed up your neck and across your jaw, “you’re still interested in that?”

“Of course.” You nodded.

“What about your little FBI agent?” She asked, stepping even closer to you as her thumb traced just under your lower lip and you let out a small scoff of a laugh.

“I seem to remember you having a husband.”

“Fair point.”

“She buys me nice things, I spend time with her that’s incredibly enjoyable for both of us, done deal. You know exactly how that works.”

“Good.” She husked, “because I was looking forward to seeing what you’ve got underneath this dress.”

Heather’s lips met yours and despite it being the first time of the trip, there was no gentleness to it as she completely dominated the kiss. Her tongue slunk into your mouth at the same time her fingers slipped underneath the straps of your dress, pushing them off your shoulders before snaking around you and pulling the zipper down. She shoved the fabric down, nudging at your hips to guide you to step out of it as she began to back toward the bed. While your lips moved with haste against each other, your hands made quick work of her dress, leaving her a luxurious lingerie set when the backs of her knees hit the bed.

She broke the kiss, her lips peppering across your jaw and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh, your head rolling back, giving her prime access to your neck. Her teeth scraped across your skin and your breath caught in your throat, a small gasp leaving your lips when she actually bit you.

“Hey!” You swatted at her side, “busy week, no marks!”

“I won’t leave any visible ones, don’t worry.” She glanced at you with a devilish look in her eyes as her hands ghosted up your sides, “don’t be so demanding and you’ll get what you want.” Her fingers pinched at your nipples through your bra and you whined, “you want this, right?” She cocked a brow at you and you nodded, “words kitten...”

“Yes mommy…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Heather dropped down onto the edge of the bed, a quiet yelp leaving your lips as she tugged you into her lap, quickly ridding you of your bra. A hand tangled into your hair, pulling your mouth back to hers and her tongue was quick to sink into your mouth, rolling against yours as you moaned into the kiss, your arms loosely draped over her shoulders. She once again began trailing her mouth down your neck, softly this time to not earn any scolding from you as her hands slid up your sides. She groped at your chest, fingers rolling your nipples as she pinched them harder and harder with each roll. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan, your head tipping back, body arching into her touch as you sank deeper into her lap. Leaning forward, her tongue flicked over your nipple before her lips wrapped around it, sucking it into her mouth, tracing around it with her tongue. Your hand slid into her hair, holding her tight to your chest as she continued to suck at it and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when her teeth sunk into you skin.

“Oh fuck!” You whimpered out, a shiver running through your body as she did it again and you couldn’t help yourself, grinding down onto her lap, your cunt aching for friction as you tried to shift yourself over one of her thighs.

Heather chuckled darkly, nipping at your tit once more before one of her hands grasped your hips, grinding you down into her lap, “there she is… mommy’s desperate little slut.” Her free hand continued to play with your nipples, her tongue darting out to flick at them between her words. “If I’d known you were this needy I would’ve put a little vibrator in that pretty pussy of yours over dinner, gotten you absolutely drenched… made you keep your cool, try not to come in front of all those important people.” She chuckled again, “then again, you’re probably already soaked, aren’t you kitten?”

Her hand sunk between your legs, cupping at your heat, pressing the flimsy fabric into your pussy as her fingers massaged you. A smirk on her lips when she felt your juices soaking through, her hand pulled away only to spank your cunt and you gasped.

“Mommy please…”

Her fingers pushed your panties to the side, sliding through your folds a few times before she raised her hand, “open.” Your lips parted and she slid her fingers into them, smiling as you obediently closed your mouth to suck on her fingers, “it’s been a while, let me warm you up kitten.” She murmured, leaning forward to kiss across your neck again, “you know how much I love to play with my food before eating it. Love playing with your needy fucking cunt, feeling you squeezing around my fingers until you can’t take it anymore, begging like the whore you are. But you never really want me to stop, do you?” She nipped at your neck again, “because you know I love how sweet you taste, making you come on my tongue. You’re such a cum slut you love tasting yourself on my lips, sucking it off my tongue when you think I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but moan around her fingers, the wet patch on your panties practically destroying them as she continued to ruin you with her words.

“But you’re not just a cum slut are you?” She asked, teeth sinking into your chest again, “you’re such a needy whore for cock, you’ll do anything for it, isn’t that right? Just love being stuffed full, cock buried nice and deep inside your drenched cunt, just absolutely wrecked, hmm?” She sat back, eyes darkening with the way your lips were still wrapped around her fingers while you ground down into her lap. “Colour, kitten?”

Your eyes cracked open when she slipped her fingers out of your mouth, “green.” Your lips formed a pout when she didn’t move and a whine escaped your lips, “please… please mommy. I’ve been so good.”

“You have.” Her fingertip tapped the tip of your nose, “and good girls do get rewarded.” Her hands grasped your waist, nudging you off her, “so lie back and take off those pathetic excuse for panties so I can see that needy fucking pussy.”

You quickly shuffled back on the bed, dropping into the pillows as you tugged your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side. Just as swiftly Heather moved through the room, grabbing a couple of spare towels to lay across the bed and you lifted your hips so she could arrange them properly. Your legs spread as she crawled back onto the bed, her hands ghosting up your thighs, spreading you even more open for her as she settled on her knees between your legs.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She cooed, her thumbs rubbing up your entrance, brushing just against your clit, “you know…if I hadn’t been so patiently waiting for this I think I’d tie you to the bedframe and leave you whining and whimpering until you were such a mess I would have to take care of you.”

“Heather!” You grumbled, your hips rocking down towards her touch.

Lightning fast, her hand shot up, circling around your throat, squeezing harder as she leant toward you, “you know better than that.” She growled, laughing darkly when she caught the way your lips curved up into a grin at the sensation when she squeezed harder.

“Sorry ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought.” Letting go of your neck she patted your jaw, “now… you’ve been doing so much hard work for me, such a good little kitten… you may come whenever you want understood?”

“Yes.” You nodded, sucking your lower lip into your mouth as you looked down at her, “please… please touch me!”

“Alright kitten.” She smirked, “you asked for it.”

Her fingers slid through you once more, smearing your juices around your cunt before two of them sunk into you and you let out a soft moan, your head falling back into the pillows. It was like it was pure muscle memory, just how quickly Heather’s fingers were able to fall into the rhythm that you liked so much, each thrust of her hand earning a breathier moan, pussy fluttering around her fingers already. She twirled her fingers around, bending them ever so slightly so her knuckles brushed across the extra sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuck…” You groaned, feeling yourself get wetter with each pass of her hand.

“Who knew you were this fucking desperate.” She chuckled, her fingers twirling once again so her finger tips could press into the same spot, pulling another gasp from you, “needy little whore’s gonna come in record time.”

Heather picked up the pace that she was fucking you, fingers pulling out more wetness with each flick of her wrist. Her other hand slid up your body, tilting your chin down so two of her fingers could slip into your mouth again, coating them with saliva before she pulled them out, spitting onto your pussy and using her wet fingers to start rubbing at your clit.

“Oh god!” You cried out, “harder please mommy! Oh fuck!”

“That’s it kitten…” she purred, “come for mommy. Let me see how big of a mess you can make.”

She increased the pressure of her hand, tight fast circles rubbed on your clit while the hand inside you pressed longer and harder against your g-spot with each thrust.  Your thighs were already shaking and the sounds coming from your cunt were absolute sin, pleasure soaring through you higher and higher until you felt the coil deep within you burst and your pussy clamped down around Heather’s fingers, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you hit your peak and juices dribbled down your thighs, soaking the towel underneath you.

“Good girl…” her fingers slipped from you, bringing more wetness with them, “you’ve got another one in you, I know it.”

Sinking down to her stomach her hands clasped around your thighs as her mouth wrapped around your dripping cunt. She gave you no time to recover from your first orgasm, clit throbbing, pussy pulsing as her tongue swiped through it. You couldn’t help but moan, each one louder than the last, a string of breathy swears on you lips as the fire very quickly began to build underneath your skin again. Your nipples were hard in the cool air, your hands ghosting across your own body as you began to play with your chest, a shimmer of sweat glistening on your skin in the low light of the room while Heather ate you with expertise. Her nose bumped your clit and you couldn’t help but cry out, your hips jolting up off the bed,

“Fuck!” Your eyes scrunched shut and you pinched at your nipples, “s-so good mommy, feels..s-sooo good.”

Heather’s hands wound tighter around your legs, pinning you to the bed while her mouth continued to move against you, groaning over your taste. One of your hands sunk into her hair, unable to control yourself when her tongue flicked through you again and you couldn’t help but grind against her face, letting out a low moan as the sensations fluttered through you. Her fingers pinched at your skin as a warning and when your hand slightly tugged she pulled away from your cunt, turning her face so her teeth could sink deep into your thigh.

“Shit!” You swore, the pain mixing with pleasure as your thigh throbbed, clit puffy and swollen begging to be touched again.

“Greedy little thing.” She tsk’d, shaking her head at you before her tongue made a torturously slow lick through your pussy, just daring to flick at your clit. “I thought you were a good girl.”

“I am.” You whimpered, your body shaking with need, “please mommy. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“You better.” With a near growl she ducked down to your cunt again, this time lips wrapping around your clit, sucking it into her mouth to trace patterns with her tongue. Two of her slicked fingers came between your legs, sinking into your heat again, matching the tempo of her mouth.

“Oh god! Fuck!”

Your eyes shut even tighter, a glittering of stars behind them as she sucked your juices into her mouth. All you could feel between your legs was wetness and throbbing need, the sounds echoing around the room were pure filth as you begged her for more, begged her to not stop, that you were so close, just a little bit more. You felt like you were about to burst, the fire in your chest, tears in your eyes or cum out of your pussy you weren’t entirely sure. One of Heather’s hands slunk up your body, beginning to pinch and grope at your chest and her lips smirked against your skin at the way your body began to shake, you were putty in her hands and you both knew it.

“Right there.. oh ff-Uck!”

Your hands clawed at the bedsheets, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm hit you, cum leaking out of your pussy. Heather’s hand was soaked, your thighs smeared with your juices as her mouth finally popped off your clit.

“That good, kitten?” She asked with a knowing smirk, wiping her face and fingers on one of the towels.

“More, please.” You whined, chest heaving and she chuckled.

“More?” She raised a brow, “kitten there’s a puddle between your legs and you want more?”

“Want you to come…” you looked up at her with pleading eyes, “wanna feel your pussy.”

“You want to touch?” Her fingers slid into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs, “or you want me get off by grinding on your puffy pussy? You want mommy’s cum smeared all over your messy fucking cunt?”

“Yes!” You cried out, your pussy clenching at the thought already, a gasp leaving your lips when she spanked your cunt.

“Yes to which?”

“Second.”

“Dirty fucking slut. Just so eager to be as naughty as possible, hm?”

She raised a brow at you and all you could do was nod as she manhandled your body into position, turning you half onto your side and pulling up one of your legs, resting it against her shoulder. She dropped herself down onto you, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of your drenched cunt rubbing against hers. She began to rock her hips, smearing your juices together, coating herself with your cum as your eyes fluttered shut again and you were moaning before she even expected it.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Feels good doesn’t it?” She ground down on you harder, “so fucking wet and slick for me, such a good girl.” She pressed down harder, a gasp leaving her lips as her clit dragged over your pussy, “oh god..”

The desire for her own pleasure took priority over continuing to degrade or praise you as she continued to grind her cunt against yours, pleasure tickling under her skin. She could see the way your body was trembling, knowing just how sensitive you could be, it wouldn’t be long until you were coming again, gushing against her. Her free hand moved up her body, toying with her chest as her hips picked up the pace, fire prickling under her skin.

“Fuck.. oh yes…” her head dropped back as her eyes fluttered shut, “just like that…”

You had just enough energy to open your eyes at this point, staring up at her, watching as she rode you, the pool of wetness collecting between your legs growing with each roll of her hips. You felt the coil tightening inside you again, your clit swollen and slippery against her, it was almost too much, your body trembling at how sensitive you’d become.

“Mommy please!”

“Are you close already, you little slut?” She groaned, grinding down harder against you as she moved even faster, “gonna squirt again, make a fucking mess of mommy’s pussy?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, biting down on your lip as hard as you could so the entire floor wouldn’t know what you were up to.

“Let go for me.” This groan was a little louder than the last, her thighs beginning to shake around you as the pleasure electrified her, shooting through her body, just about to burst at the seams. “Come with me, kitten.”

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help the cry, tears nearly prickling in the corners of your eyes as your body shuddered, juices gushing out once more and only a moment later you felt Heather trembling, a loud moan escaping her lips as the pool between your legs got another burst of liquid.

“Fuck…” she muttered, dropping your leg as she sat back on the bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her hand soothed up your leg, fingernails digging into the forming mark on your inner thigh, “colour?”

“Green.” You panted back, chest heaving and she laughed darkly.

“Good.”

You let out a gasp, your legs clenching shut around her when she suddenly dove down between your legs once again, her tongue lapping at your slick pussy, sucking and licking as much cum as she could into her mouth. Heather crawled over you, her hand closing around your jaw and you quickly opened your lips wide so she could spit the mixture into your mouth, watching as it pooled on your tongue, slowly dripping down into the back of your throat.

“Good girl.” She tapped your chin, her other hand closing around your neck as you swallowed the liquid down, “now, you still want my cock?”

“Yes, oh god yes.”

“Then roll over, hands on the headboard and don’t you even think of moving them? Understood?”

“Yes mommy.”

Heather surprised you with a new strap, larger than the one she would usually use, stretching you out, fucking you so incredibly deep all you could see were stars. Your knuckles white from clutching at the headboard as tightly as you were. The pillows muffled your cries as she made you come another two times around her cock before finally spilling her cum deep into your pussy, making sure you got every last drop of it before she pulled out. She chose not to torment you, letting you drop to the mattress as she held your hips up, playing with the lube, fingering it back into your heat as you whined. She slipped from the bed, placing the strap in the bathroom to be dealt with later.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned.

“Satisfied?” She asked with a smirk.

“Very.”

“Good. You better be for the amount of mess you made.”

“I need a shower.” With a wince you pushed up from the bed, stretching out your stiff body, “maybe a Gatorade…”

“Take an extra reward in the morning, charge some room service breakfast to my room, I’ll expense it.”

You cast a look over your shoulder as you gathered your clothes, “it’s a work trip Heather, everything gets expensed…”

“You take the fun out of everything; you know that right?”

“Oh… I’m so sure.”

*

Wednesday:

Heather knocked on the unlocked door between your suites as she moved through it and you glanced up from your spot on the bed where you were working on your laptop.

“I’ve almost got your endorsement emails finished and ready to send out.”

“Good.” She smiled, “but that’s not why I’m here.”

You glanced at the time on your screen, “Heat, it’s barely ten a.m.…and I just showered.”

She laughed, shaking her head at you, “McKnight and Wallace want to barter it out over a game of doubles, I need a partner and we both know Cynthia is so uncoordinated she trips over her own feet walking.”

“You play tennis?”

“What else do you think I do at the country club?”

“Drink, gossip and trash talk?” You offered up and she paused, a chuckle escaping her lips.

“I suppose you’re not wrong. It was always more something of Rob’s interest, but if I’ve got the skill I figure I may use it.”

“You’re lucky I’ve got a good backhand.” Letting out a breath you closed your laptop, slipping off the bed, “but I’ve got to be back by two thirty, Durant booked us in for facials down at the spa.”

Her lips flicked up into a smirk, “play a good game of tennis and that won’t be the only facial you get today.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow.

“What?” She gently pinched at your chin, “we’re here all week, did you really think I’d only bring one flavour of lube? You always look so pretty down on your knees.”

“Focus.” You flicked her palm, “we’ve got a game of tennis to win.”

*

Thursday:

It was time for the excruciatingly boring day. While the week was pretty evenly balanced between meetings and socializing, Thursday was the jam packed schedule of all work. Brunch followed by a morning of assemblies, speaker after speaker droning on about what policies and procedures they thought were best and why everyone else should support them, the changes that should be made.

Lunch was a luxury buffet provided by the hotel, where the mood barely shifted from work as everyone mingled about the room making small talk with those they hadn’t gotten a chance with yet. Cocktails were served, which helped everyone loosen up a little bit and have a little bit more fun than otherwise, so that was the saving grace.

The afternoon was dedicated to the up and comers, a couple of assemblies catering to high school students, those with an interest in politics, debate team, federal jobs and the like. The others with very similar themes (though maybe more specialized) dedicated to university students who were very likely going to end up on the same career path. While the younger students were shuttled back to their schools when everything wrapped, the others were invited to a special cocktail hour to socialize, able to ask various levels of politicians or their teams whatever one on one questions they may have. It was good education for them and a fantastic opportunity for everyone to secure more support and hopefully votes when the time came. While it was mainly a group of people who had their eyes set on the White House, Congress or the Senate, there were also a scattered bunch that weren’t looking for that, rather just in the general field which meant you weren’t lucky enough to escape quite yet.

At the very least you were thankful cocktail hour also included tables and waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres so you weren’t left completely starving until dinner. Heather managed to track you down while you were finishing up a chat with a couple of very promising looking up and comers, passing off both yours and her business cards, telling them to email to set up an appointment whenever they happened to be in D.C.

“Bored yet?” She asked with a tease, plucking a drink off a nearby station before handing the server a twenty.

“On the contrary, having the time of my fucking life.” You replied dryly and she chuckled, her eyes surveying the room and you watched as her gaze settled in on something and her brow raised. “Huh..”

“What?” You asked, not even bothering to find out where she was looking.

“Looks like Jackie’s just about finished up her day. I should send you over with a drink.”

“What?” You laughed, “are you pimping me out now?”

“No,” she swatted at your arm, “but it would be a shame if she had to leave alone. And I did miss out on a rather fun night, the opportunity just happens to be presenting itself.”

“You are insatiable…”

“You love it.” She smirked over the rim of her glass and you huffed.

“I’m exhausted. I’d love it if there was at least one night you would just let me sleep. It’s no wonder you have to keep multiple sugar babies around to stay satisfied.” Finishing your drink you placed it down on an empty table, “I want to go upstairs, put on pyjamas and order room service.”

“You’re no fun.” She scoffed.

“Then go have yours.” You laughed.

“I’m not going to fuck her alone.” She muttered, “c’mon, just one drink, we’ll go down to the beach bar that has the good mojitos.”

“One drink.” You reluctantly agreed, “there is a pizza with my name on it.”

*

Friday:

At the very least, Heather let you sleep in today, which you were incredibly thankful for. You got a late morning workout in, swung by the café to grab a bite to eat before heading out on something that was a mix of a pub crawl and an afternoon of meetings. The group bopped around all of the hotels in the area, taking in the sites, learning about the amenities and bonuses that each location had while enjoying a drink and a few appetizers at each location. The trip extended outside the resort area as you were shown a few of the cities main attractions while you continued to rub elbows and play politics.

Returning back to the hotel you were happy to retreat to your empty room, enjoying the air conditioning for a bit while you drafted up a couple of things. Once satisfied, you knew you only had a couple days of sunshine left before heading back to the dreary Washington weather and figured you should probably take advantage of the private terrace. You changed into your bikini, grabbed a couple of books and draped across one of the loungers on your stomach.

It was only when you jolted awake to something cold dripping onto your back that you realized you’d fallen asleep. Heather’s hand soothed up your back a moment later,

“Can’t have you burning.” She muttered, “how long have you been out here?”

You glanced at your watch, “couple hours.” You let out a gentle groan when her thumb dug into your shoulder blade, “you sure that’s sunscreen?”

“If it was lube I wouldn’t be rubbing your shoulders, that’s for sure.” She chuckled, wiping off any of the excess on a spare towel before her hands slid up the back of your thighs, just daring to grope at your ass, “but if that’s something you’re interested in I’m sure it could be arranged.” Her fingers began toying with the strings of your suit, “first you’ve got to roll over for me though. I know Tony wouldn’t suggest a new suit unless your tits looked spectacular.”

Rolling your eyes as you laughed you rolled over onto your back, pushing yourself up to sitting so you were on display for the other woman, “happy?”

“Mmm. That man has fantastic taste.” She tugged at the straps, letting the triangles of fabric fall from your skin, “now let’s get you inside before anyone overhears you…”

*

Saturday:

A morning yoga class with Jackie before lounging on the beach to start your day off, trying to take advantage of the sunshine and ocean air before the humidity hit and it was simply too hot to be in the direct sun. You only briefly parted ways, picking up lunch on your way back to your room to eat while you finalized a few more work things before jumping in the shower.

Just before dinner time you were headed down to the docks, the final item on your agenda of the day being a party on the very large and luxurious yacht of the Florida governor. Cocktails, beer and liquor were plentiful, appetizers on trays of wandering servers while everyone got relaxed and chatting. Dinner would be served at eight, succulent plates of surf and turf, including freshly caught seafood while wine was refilled, a glass never empty the entire evening.

It was much more party centered than anything else that week, people getting comfortable, letting loose, secrets quietly spilling from lips as the sun sunk in the sky. A sense of playfulness drifted over the boat, wine changed into hard liquor and shots, small talk began to edge the line of dirty talk while people began to disappear to different decks or down small hallways.

Heather found you returning from the bathroom, stepping out onto one of the side decks for some fresh air. A moment after resting on the railing her hands were on either side of you and a shiver ran down your spine as her lips pressed into your skin.

“I just know there’s a gorgeous set of lace underneath this dress and I am absolutely dying to see it.” Her teeth nipped at your neck, “you wouldn’t deprive mommy of that would you? It is our last night after all.”

You let out a soft moan, turning so your back was resting against the railing, “when did they say they we’re docking next?”

“Ten forty five.”

“Enough time for one more drink then.” With a smirk you moved around her, a sway to your hips that had her eyes glued on your ass as you wandered back towards the bar.

______________

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[hotchscoffeecup]

reconciliation (pt.2 to how do we carry on?)

pairing: hotch x bau!reader

rating: t

genre: hurt/comfort with a happy ending

word count: 7.2k

tagged readers: @izakopanyi2 @polireader @jihyowrrld @twilightlover2007 @queenanababy @feyrecarol @rousethemouse @endofthexline @jxvipike @donttrustlove @hiireadstuff @jenna50 @michasia24

The coffee that was hot an hour ago is cold and bitter now. You grimace as the acrid taste slides down your throat. You try to place the disposable cup into your cup holder without taking your eyes off the road, but miss.The lid slips off and brown liquid sloshes over the edge onto the passenger seat. You curse as you grasp the wheel with one hand while you try to mop up the spill with what random napkins you’ve acquired since you started driving. Fortunately, your purse is spared any damage, but the road map and photograph you’ve kept on the seat aren’t as lucky. Ignoring the map, you pick up the photograph and shake it, splattering drops of coffee across the dash. The edges curl slightly, but the photo itself is fine. You hold it awkwardly between your fingers as you return your hand to the steering wheel.

There aren’t many cars on the road at this hour. You glance down at the dashboard and see 02:32 illuminated in green. You aren’t sure where you’re going, you just know you can’t stay there. Even your own apartment didn’t feel secure, not with how much of him is there. Your lives are so intertwined, you see and feel him everywhere you go. It’s what makes, made? God, you don’t even know anymore. It’s what is so beautiful about your relationship, how seamlessly your lives blend together that you’re not sure where yours and his start and end. You’re both so fiercely independent while being so devoted and wholly part of the threads that make up one another’s lives.

Or so you thought.

As you slow to a stop at the red light, the only car at the four way intersection, your eyes fall to the coffee stained image between your fingers. You’re smiling at the camera meanwhile Aaron is looking and smiling down on you, the soft shimmer in his deep brown eyes captured by the lens. It’s your favorite picture. You took it from the frame at the front table before leaving. The sound of his sobs echo in your ears as the red light reflecting on the photo paper shines green. You blink and drop the photo onto the center console before shifting your gaze back to the road. A sign ahead reads to keep left to stay on I-95 South. Richmond and Virginia Beach are in big white letters under it.

Three years you’ve lived in Virginia, and you’ve never made it to the coast. Shifting the steering wheel, you guide the vehicle into the left lane and take the exit.

•

As the waves lap at your ankles, you close your eyes and turn your face toward the sun, the briny sea breeze gently tossing your hair. You inhale deeply and the sigh you exhale is overtaken by the quiet roar of the ocean.

Turns out getting a beachfront house isn’t as expensive as one might think in the off season and fortunately for you, Virginia afternoons in September still reach the high eighties.

The beach house is nothing fancy, more like a beach shack if you’re being honest. It’s one floor supported on high rafters, old wooden steps leading down to the sand. You climb them now and they creak beneath your weight. A half rusted outdoor shower squeals to life when you reach the deck and twist the faucet. You shiver as you rinse the sand off of your legs and arms, and well, everywhere. There aren’t many crevices it doesn’t manage to stick to. You swipe the pink and white striped towel you’d found in the linen closet off the railing and wrap it around your body. Once it’s tightly secured around your chest, you work off the cheap bikini you’d purchased at a year round souvenir shop down the road and spread it out to dry.

The screen door squeaks on its hinges as you enter the house. You should probably go for a proper shower and wash the sea out of your hair, but you can’t be assed. Instead, you crack open the fridge and inspect the pathetic hodge podge of groceries you’d purchased at the corner store. Food doesn’t even sound appealing. It hasn’t for days. Every time you try to eat, you just feel sick. Your stomach roils at the thought and you grab a seltzer water before closing the fridge with a grimace.

As you exit the kitchen, your eyes catch your phone and keys on the chipped granite counter. The black screen of your phone glints beneath the fluorescent kitchen lighting. You’d turned it off when you’d arrived, ignoring the fact that you had 8 missed calls from Hotch and twice as many unread messages from him. There’d been one missed call from Emily, a name you never thought you’d see flash across your screen again. God knows how many times you’d called her phone just to hear her voice recording before leaving a message about how much you missed her and wished she were there to give you advice or talk through a case. For a fraction of a second, you wonder now if she’s gotten the chance to hear those voicemails you’d left her. Did she hear the pain in your voice? Did she feel guilt over the messages where all you’d managed to choke out were incoherent sobs? All this time you thought you’d been talking to a ghost, but she’d been out there all along.

You tear your gaze away from the counter, leaving your phone where it is and cross the cream colored carpet to the small bedroom. Yellow wallpaper splashed with repeating patterns of palm fronds plaster the four walls. The bed frame is made up of white wicker and you fall back onto the comforter, the front of which is decorated with images of shells and starfish. None of the patterns in this house match, but you don’t care. You care about very little right now.

Before you can run away down that thought pattern, there’s a knock at the door. You sit up, brow furrowed, as you lean forward on your knees, as if doing so will suddenly grant you the ability to see through walls and who could possibly be here.

Maybe the owner? A neighboring off season beach goer? Hesitantly, you rise from the bed and tug on one of the guest robes that had been hanging in the bathroom. You drop your towel and shrug it on, tying it tightly around your waist before approaching the front door. You move slowly for two reasons: one, no one should know you’re here and you don’t know why someone would be calling on you, and two; what if it’s Aaron?

The knocking repeats. It's light but firm, definitely not Aaron. A woman, you think. You twist the deadbolt and pull open the door, surprise etching into your features as a woman a few years older than you stands behind the second screen door.

“Hi, uh, can I help you?” you ask awkwardly.

The girl’s dark eyes travel up and down your body. She looks at you through the door from beneath long lashes, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You can’t control the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth when she asks for you by name.

You try your best to school your facial expressions and by the slight smirk that crosses the girl’s face, you know you did a pretty poor job of doing so. “Who wants to know?” you ask, wondering if she’s someone who’s crossed paths with you before through work.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she answers, drawing out the last syllable of his name with an amused glint in her eye.

You can’t fight the eye roll that follows. Unbelievable. “Sorry, he wasted your time.” You move to close the door, but she throws open the screen door and catches it with her foot.

Your eyes flash to hers and you see the challenge in the depth of her hazel gaze, equal to the one in yours. “Hotch wouldn’t have reached out to me unless he was desperate,” she adds. “I think you might want to hear me out.” She extends a hand toward you. “I’m Elle, Greenaway to the BAU, but when I left I shortened it to Greene.”

Your brow furrows as the name rings the slightest of bells in the back of your mind. Hesitantly, you accept her ring adorned hand and shake it as your brain sifts through the number of agents you’d heard stories about in the time before you joined the team.

“How did you find me?” you ask as you step aside and admit her into the house.

Elle nods graciously as she looks around, though there’s not much to size up in the small rental unit.

“You think Hotch didn’t immediately have Penelope ping your phone when you left?”

You exhale sharply. “I turned my phone off.”

A short laugh leaves Elle, “Not soon enough.” She turns, a hand on her hip. “You got any beer?”

Your brow furrows, wondering who the hell you just invited into your house. You shake your head as you cross into the kitchen and open the fridge. You withdraw a big bottle you’d bought at the corner drug store. “I’ve got wine.”

Elle smiles. “That’ll work. Let’s head down to the beach.”

•

“Thanks,” Elle says coolly as you finish tipping wine into the plastic cup in her hand. You cap the bottle and shove it down into the sand between the foldable beach chairs you’d dragged down from their place on the deck after you’d gotten changed into something more appropriate to wear outside than a bathrobe.

You retrieve your cup from where you’d been holding it between your legs and take a long sip before sighing and settling back into your chair, the canvas stretching as you do so.

For a moment, you and Elle sit there in silence; watching the orange pink colors of the sunset start to streak across the sky as the waves crash against the sand.

“I had no idea about Haley,” she says after another minute goes by and you stiffen. It isn’t that you and Aaron never talk about her. Keeping her memory alive is so important for Jack and you know a part of Hotch will always love her. That’s never bothered you though. Aaron had told you that he and Haley had talked about that if something ever happened to either one of them that they would want the other to eventually move on and find love again, that they didn’t want the other one to spend the rest of their life lonely. I’m sure neither one of them ever imagined something like what had happened to Haley would ever come to pass though.

“Did you know her?” you ask, your voice tight with emotion at the thought of ever having to endure a loss like that. You’d joined the team years after her death and hadn’t known Hotch during the time he’d grieved her loss. From the stories he and Jack had shared, she seemed like she’d been a kind soul and a good mother.

Elle nods, her gaze fixed on the view though you see a glint of memory in her eyes. “Hotch wasn’t as serious then.” She pauses and smirks to herself. “Don’t get me wrong, he was still a hard ass, but there was also a lightness to him before and right after Jack was born. I remember when they first brought him into the office, such a tiny little thing all bundled up in his arms. Him and Haley had looked so at ease.” She sighs and takes a swig of her wine before continuing. “I think that’s when the job started to get to him, after he had a kid.” Her brow pinches for a moment. “I think Hotch started to see the men and women we put away more as the proverbial monsters that kids fear are lurking in their closets, except we know what horribly evil things the monsters are really capable of versus what a kid’s imagination can drum up. The worst their little minds can conjure up pales in comparison to the heinous files that cross his desk. I think Hotch wanted to protect that innocence so badly and shield Jack from all of the evil in the world that he threw himself further and further into his work, especially after how things with The Fisher King went down.” Your eyes don’t miss the way her hand presses against her abdomen. The stake jutting out of Emily’s stomach flashes in your mind and you flinch at the memory.

“Something happened,” observes Elle. She sits up in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you.

You scoff and take another drink, shaking your head as you do so. “Once a profiler, always a profiler.”

Elle chuckles and shrugs. “Old habits die hard.” Her features soften as she turns toward you. “Something happened though, didn’t it? I know you probably can’t share too many details. Hotch didn’t in the voicemail he left you.”

You perk up at that. “Voicemail?”

Elle nods, the gold hoops in her ears swinging as she does so. “Sorry,” she laughs coolly as she reaches into the pocket of her jeans. “I probably should’ve led with that.” She fishes her cell phone out and swipes her thumb across the screen. You brace yourself as Aaron’s throaty tenor echoes from the speaker on her phone.

“Elle, hi,” he starts and stops. An exasperated sigh follows. “It’s Aaron Hotchner with the BAU I—of course you know I’m with the BAU I don’t know why I led with that. Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from after all of these years but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t,” his voice wavers here for a moment. “I can’t share details about the case we’re working on, but it’s bad and I had to make a decision.” He stops and clears his throat. “It was a decision that impacted the whole of the team and where it was for their protection, I may have ruined the best thing to have happened to me in years. Look, I know you left the Bureau. I know you changed your name to put distance between you and the BAU, and I don’t blame you. In fact, I think I understand you now more than ever. This job, the toll it takes—” his voice trails off and you hold your breath in anticipation. He goes on to explain who you are and why you left, obfuscating the exact details of the Ian Doyle case for security reasons. He explains how after no one had heard from you for forty eight hours that he’d worked with Garcia to ping your location, how he was more worried than anything else and just needed to know that you were safe. When Penelope had located you, he remembered that Elle had always talked about living on the coast. It had been a shot in the dark, but Penelope being Penelope, she’d been able to find Elle in a matter of hours. “I just need to know she’s safe,” he breathes. “Please, Elle. If anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t lose someone else. I have to do better; by you, by Haley, by the team. I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends, but please, with this case still active, I just need to know that she’s ok. Call me back,” his voice quavers. “Please.”

The line goes dead and Elle slides her phone back into her pocket. “That was three days ago.” Elle’s brow arches, looking for a response. “So,” she adds, drawling out the ‘o’ sound. “Sounds heavy.”

You draw in a deep breath and down the rest of your wine. Aaron had sounded so tired on the phone. Guilt squeezes around your heart as you think about what he and the team must be dealing with. It’s reckless and stupid of you to have just up and left when Doyle is still out there with you and the rest of his team in your sights. You didn’t even bring your gun, sure that you’d be sending in your resignation after this cover up; but hearing his voice on Elle’s phone, the pain in it. What you’d been trying to ignore this entire time begins to wriggle its way toward the forefront of your mind; and that’s the hell this must have put Hotch and Emily through. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you, not intentionally, but how are you supposed to trust him if he could watch you suffer through the agony of her loss knowing at any point in time he could’ve put a stop to it? You squeeze your eyes shut because you know the obvious answer. There are things he has to do as Unit Chief, choices only he can make. Choices that don’t involve you or the rest of the team, and that doesn’t change because you two are an item. Still, the conflict wages on inside of you. All of this is true and he’s made choices and decisions that impact the team before, just never on this scale; not something that alters memories and fucks the psyche so irreparably.

“The heaviest,” you finally respond.

“You can talk to me about it,” she says, and you know her words are genuine. “I know I don’t have clearance anymore, so the cliff notes version works too.”

So, you tell her. About Emily, about Hotch, what you can about Doyle, the circumstances around Emily’s death, the grief, her undeath, the betrayal you felt, and everything that brought you to this moment with her.

Elle releases a low whistle and scoops the wine bottle up from the sand, pouring herself another glass and topping yours off. “That’s—” She pops her lips, considering. “Elaborate.”

“I’d say mind-fuck, but elaborate works too.” You quip bitterly and take a drink.

Elle cocks her head. “Hotch doesn’t do anything without careful consideration.”

You inhale deeply before taking another drink, a warmth starting to crawl beneath your flesh as the alcohol sinks in. You hang your head as you respond. “I know.”

“There’s a reason that I left the Bureau,” Elle says after a long stretch of silence. “I made a decision that ended my career, and it’s one I’d make again if I had to.” Her voice grows tight for a moment before she clears her throat and continues. “This job will drain you until there’s nothing left. I remember on the day I left I told Hotch about how I’d get so excited when my phone rang because it meant we had a case; but after I got shot in my own house and was lying on the floor feeling that man’s fingers inside of my gut, something changed in me forever that day. I went back to work after some time, but it was never the same. After that, every time my phone rang I felt paralyzed with fear because I knew what it was like to feel the way those victims felt in the moments leading up to their deaths.” Her voice quavers for a second and she swipes at a stray tear before choking out a laugh. “You’re not the same after something like. I know what it’s like to come back from the brink of death, and it sounds like this Emily knows too.” She stretches out a hand and grips your knee. “The only difference is that after I nearly died, I had the team. I had Spencer, Derek, Penelope, and JJ, hell Hotch was the one that came to my house and scrubbed the blood off of my walls before I got out of the hospital.” Her brow arches in response to my widening eyes. “Didn’t know that, did you?” She smiles and reclines back in her seat. “Emily didn’t have that. She didn’t have her friends, family,” she corrects. “Let’s be honest, the BAU becomes your family after a while.”

You nod in agreement.

“She went through that alone,” Elle continues and a pang of guilt shoots through you. “She didn’t have her family to turn to in a time where she probably needed you the most.”

It’s your turn to swipe at the tears that loose from your eyes. “I know that.” Your voice is tight as you choke back a sob. “I’ve always trusted the team, every one of them. How—” you suck in a shaky breath. “How am I supposed to trust them after this? What’s to stop something like this from happening again?”

Elle’s lips purse. “That’s the job we signed up for, isn’t it? Working for the government and all the shitty red tape they weave in and around the work we do.”

“If I go back,” you start. “I don’t think they’ll forgive me. I left when they needed me most. Doyle is still out there.”

Elle frowns and tilts her head back and forth. “You’ll never know if you don’t though. I couldn’t go back. My actions decided that for me. You have a choice, but you’re the only one that can make it.” She glances down at her watch and then out at the sun. It’s almost completely sunken down beneath the sea over the horizon, the orange and pink sunset fading to the purple gray hues of dusk. “I should probably get going.” She sets her cup down in the sand and stands, turning to you as she does so.

“Here,” she says, passing you a card from the back pocket of her jeans.

You take it, fingering the edges of the sturdy cardstock. Elle Greene: Social Services Coordinator is embossed in dark blue font followed by a cell phone, office number, and email listed beneath it.

“Call me if you ever want to talk. There are ways to do some good in this world without sacrificing your own happiness in the process.” She smiles at you before she starts toward the path that leads around the house and back to the road.

After a few moments, you jump up and call after her. “Hey Elle!”

She turns, brow arched toward her hairline as she waits for you to continue.

“Why’d you come?”

She slips her hands into her pockets and doesn’t say anything for a while, her green eyes focusing on her feet. When she looks up at you, there’s the faintest of smiles on her lips. “The day I left the Bureau I looked Hotch in the eye and told him that I used to wonder why he didn’t smile. When I heard that voicemail, despite how defeated he sounded, there was something in his voice that made me believe he’d found something to smile about again. When you work the job that you do, that I used to do, you have to hold on for dear life when you find the things that can make you smile after witnessing the things we do. I guess I don’t want him to lose what made him find his smile again; even after all these years I’ve spent angry at Hotch, I never hated him.” She sighs and looks like she wants to say more, but chooses not to. “Running away doesn’t solve your problems, it just keeps them at a distance until you’re finally brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.” Her jeweled rings catch the last rays of sun as she raises a hand in farewell. “I’ll see you around.”

•

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, the blue and green plaid fabric of the couch scratching the backs of your legs as you do so. You bite at your thumb nail as you eye your powered down cell phone from where it sits on the glass coffee table in front of you.

Elle’s words from two days ago hang heavy in the air around you.

Running away doesn’t solve your problems. It just keeps them at a distance until you’re brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.

If you turn on your phone, you know there will be a barrage of voicemails and text messages waiting for you. Or, there won’t be anything more than there was when you first shut it down. You turned your back on them when they needed you. It would be easy to write you off, after all that’s what you did isn’t it?

You drop your head back against the couch and groan, the feelings at war within you tearing at your insides; your guts twisted with equal parts betrayal over Hotch not telling you and the guilt of leaving the team instead of facing that anger and hurt head on.

It’s a giant mess; a tangled web of necessary lies and the red tape that binds the hands of those in positions over you and the rest of the team. The rational part of you understands this. In black and white terms, you understand that Unit Chief SSA Agent Aaron Hotchner had to make a decision to protect another agent, SSA Emily Prentiss. While Ian Doyle is a fugitive from the law believing her to be dead, her going into hiding not only took the target off of her back, but off the backs of all of your team members, yourself included, who otherwise would’ve been collateral damage in Doyle’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against Emily. All of this makes perfect sense.

It’s when the emotional, feeling half of you comes into play that the black and white turns to splotchy streaks of gray and you struggle to make peace with the rational side of things. When you look at it through this lens, your boyfriend and long term partner, Aaron, watched you throw up from dehydration over how long and how hard you’d sobbed over the death of best friend, Emily. At any point, he could’ve put a stop to your pain and didn’t.

Your fingers slide into your hair, gently tugging at the roots as you try to sort through these warring versions of yourself and the pieces of information and emotions that come with each. Because in your heart, you know and understand it’s not black and white. It’s gray and it’s messy. So, why can’t you reconcile both halves of yourself and just be okay with this then? Why can’t you just be overjoyed by the fact that your best friend is back from the literal dead? How many people in this life can say that that’s happened for them? Why can’t you just tell Aaron you understand what he did because you do, but at the same time you don’t? You wouldn’t have told anyone, but then that would be Aaron showing you preferential treatment and you’d be in no better position than he or JJ when it came to hiding this fact from the rest of the team. It’s something you’d talked about extensively when you first started dating and so far, it has been fine. He makes decisions that sometimes you agree with, sometimes you don’t. It is always just part of the job. So what does it all boil down to? Where does this leave you?

“Fuck me,” you whisper aloud as you dive forward and swipe the phone off of the table before you can really think about what you’re doing. You hold down the button on the side and it titters to life. For a moment, you close your eyes as you feel the vibrations pulsing in the palm of your hand, each one a notification of some sort. When they cease, you swipe directly to your contacts and select Aaron’s. His is the first to show alphabetically anyway. Your thumb hovers over the call button for only a second, before you exhale a shaky breath and hit the dial.

The phone barely presses against your ear as you catch the tail end of his hello. It’s after hearing his voice, that you’re rendered speechless.

“Baby, are you there?”

Your chest rises and falls, your heart rate quickening beneath your chest. You sniff as tears prick your eyes, not realizing how much you’d missed his voice until now.

“Aaron,” you squeak out, your voice cracking on his name.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Hotch says, a plea in his apology. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to fix this. I miss you. I love you.”

A sob shudders free from your lips as all of your walls come tumbling down and you let yourself break down to pieces of ash and stone. “I’m sorry I ran when you needed me.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron soothes. “It’s okay. It's over. We got him.”

You sit up and swipe under your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Doyle?”

“He’s dead.”

Panic rises in you. “And the team? Is everyone—”

“Everyone is fine. No one was hurt.”

You close your eyes and sink back into the cushions as your pulse levels out. “I’m on my way.”

“There’s no need,” he replies coolly.

Your brow pinches. “I don’t—”

The sound of a car door slamming echoes beyond the front door. You stand and the old t-shirt that belongs to Aaron falls to your thighs as you do so. You’d not even realized you’d packed it until you pulled it on after your shower earlier. The linoleum creaks beneath your feet as you cross through the kitchen and unlock the deadbolt. When you pull open the door, you gasp and drop your phone.

Aaron’s lips tremble as he smiles at you and takes the phone down from his ear. He ends the call and slips it into the pocket of his slacks. “I got in the car and just started driving,” he says as his glimmering eyes flit across yours, always the profiler checking for micro expressions. A desperate smile clings to his lips as he looks at you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathe in response; unable to think of what else to say at the moment

His smile falters as he takes a step closer to you. You see his hand twitch ever so slightly at his side.

“Honey, I—”

You leap forward and throw your arms around his neck. He breathes a sigh of relief into your hair as his arms fold around you, his hands pressed flat against your back as if he can somehow hold you closer than he already is. His hands slide up your spine to curl around the back of your neck. When he pulls away, there are tear stains on his cheeks.

You reach up and swipe your thumbs under his eyes, his skin smooth beneath your touch. A smirk tugs at one corner of your mouth as you wonder when he had time to shave.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” you say, still cupping his cheek in your hand.

He nods as he leans into your touch. “I know,” he says softly.

“I know why you had to do what you did.”

Another tear leaks from his eye as he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your hand against his cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else, but I had to protect you.”

“I know,” you say and you mean it. “I also know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m a coward for running away, but I just—I was so overwhelmed by everything. I didn’t know how to cope with your return, with Emily’s, with everything. I would’ve been a hindrance if I’d stayed, but I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.”

Hotch shakes his head as he steps back to look at you, the dark slash of his brow set as he does so. “What you did was not an act of cowardice. Trust me when I say you are not the only one that has a lot of anger and frustration aimed at me right now. Spencer snapped twice at JJ. Morgan laid into me, and I deserved it. JJ and I always knew that if and when this came to light, that there would be consequences for our actions. It was a calculated risk, and I take full responsibility for it. After you left, I gave everyone the option to leave if they didn’t think they could work the case. You knew you weren’t in the right headspace and pulled yourself out. It was the right decision and no one faults you for it.”

“I’m still so mad at you,” you say.

Aaron’s lips form a tight line. “I know.”

“But I also love you.”

His brow relaxes at that admission and relief floods his gaze. “I’ll take your use of the present tense as a good sign.”

You both chuckle at that and a shiver races through you as a sea breeze catches your hair and sends goosebumps up and down your arms. You wrap your arms around yourself and incline your head toward his SUV. “Your go bag in there?”

He nods and you flick your eyes up and down the length of his figure. “Go on then,” you encourage. “Get it and come inside before I change my mind.” You smile and you feel it reach your eyes for the first time in nearly a week. He withdraws the key fob from his pocket and smiles at it in his hand, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh and turns to head toward the car.

He pops the trunk and returns with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You look good in my shirt,” he compliments you with a sly smile as he passes through the front door. You close and lock the door behind him and point towards the bedroom. “Don’t think flattery will get you off the hook, Aaron.”

“You’re pointing me toward the bedroom, so I can only hope that’s a good sign.”

“Nearly a week has given me a lot of time to think,” you call after him as he disappears inside.

When he returns, his suit jacket is off and he’s loosening his tie from around his neck. “And what conclusion have you come to?”

“To be determined,” you muse as you approach him. You finger the tip of his tie and curl your fingers around it before tugging it free and dropping it to the floor.

One of Aaron’s brows arches as he regards you curiously. His hand curves around your hip and you press yourself against him. Heat pools in your belly, but you ignore the sensation, hard as that is after nine months without him. He dips his chin to kiss you and instead of meeting your mouth, he meets your finger instead. You press it against his lips and arch a brow. “Not so fast, Hotch.”

He winces and inhales sharply, a pink blush quickly coloring his cheeks. “I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.” He admits against your finger. “You only call me Hotch when I’m in trouble.”

Something between a scoff and a laugh leaves your lips as you poke him on the tip of his nose, the slope of which you’d missed so much since he’d been gone. “How about,” you start and loop your arms around his neck, “we just talk? From the beginning, tell me what went through your mind and what led to the decision. We can talk about Emily, her funeral, the grief. You can tell me what you can about Pakistan and I’ll tell you about how hard it was when you were gone. Tell me about when you and JJ knew you had to tell the team and I’ll tell you how it felt like I’d had my heart carved out of my chest and put through a blender. Tell me how it felt when I left and I’ll talk about the ways in which I wish I hadn’t but why I felt like I had to. Tell me why I should trust you and I’ll tell you why I want to, but am afraid. Tell me—”

Aaron catches your wrists in his hands and plants a firm kiss upon your lips. You envelope him with your own and revel in the familiar way they meld together, the taste of him like coming home. He pulls away, though his lips still hover over yours. “I promise I will tell you everything and more. We’ll talk until the sun comes up if that’s what it takes.”

You smile and when you speak, your lips brush against his. “I guess I ought to put some coffee on then.”

•

White rays of early morning sunshine break through the sheer curtains, casting soft light across the bed sheets. For the first time in nearly a year, you wake with Aaron’s arm securely around your waist. You breathe in deeply and the faint smell of coffee lingers in the air, two empty mugs leaving brown rings on the nightstand.

You don’t remember when you two had laid down to go to sleep, but remember laughing about it being 3:00 AM at one point and continuing talking in spite of that; and talked you two had. You’d tackled everything from the decision he and JJ made at the hospital all the way up until right now. You laughed and cried, and so did he. You’d never seen Aaron cry before last night, and you were grateful that he’d felt safe enough with you to be vulnerable like that. As the night had worn on, you’d felt the fractured pieces of yourself slowly start to pull together; that you can both heal from this and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you reach for it, now being as good a time as any to tackle the number of unread texts and unheard voicemails. You can’t avoid them forever.

8 voicemails from Hotch, 2 from JJ, 6, from Penelope, 1 from Derek, and 1 from Emily. Your brow knits together as you view the time stamp next to her voicemail and it’s marked only an hour ago. Why would she have called you so early? Surely, Hotch would’ve let the team know that you’re safe and that he’s with you.

You open the app and press play, bringing the phone to your ear to avoid disturbing Hotch and Emily’s voice fills your head as you listen in.

“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now…” Her voice is tired and her tone is genuinely apologetic. “…I missed everyone so much, but you. It tore me up inside knowing we didn’t get to say goodbye, that I didn’t get to explain to you why all of this had to happen and you had to mourn me. I knew Hotch would take care of you.” She chuckles softly and you picture her shaking her head. “God, that man adores you, you know that right? Knowing he’d be there to help you through things was a small solace, but I knew that the weight of asking him to keep this from you and the rest of the team would take a toll on him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Doyle, he never—he never would’ve stopped hunting me and he would’ve used or killed everyone close to me to do so. If there had been any other way, I would’ve done it.” She sighs heavily. “Anyway, Hotch texted the team and myself last night that he’d gotten to you safely in Virginia Beach. I imagine you and him had a lot to talk about last night. It’s probably going to look like I’m copying a page out of his book, but you’re the only person I haven’t looked in the eye and apologized to, so I’ll be there in about an hour or so. Hopefully, you open the door.”

Your eyes widen as you drop the phone back onto the nightstand. After glancing at the clock and noticing it had been an hour and fifteen minutes since she called, you slip out of bed. Hotch stirs, but doesn’t wake and his hand moves to shift under the pillow and he nestles deeper into the blankets. God, he must be so exhausted. From the red eye flight from Pakistan to immediately leaping into and closing the Ian Doyle case, this is probably the first proper sleep he’s gotten in weeks.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel draws your attention to the living room. You pull on a pair of sweats and throw off the oversized shirt you’d slept in in exchange for a tank top, forgoing a bra in the process. You rush into the bathroom and rapidly brush your teeth, accepting there not being any time to fix your tousled bed head.

Footsteps echo up the walkway on the other side of the front door as you approach and before you can think it through, you throw the door open. You only take a second to confirm that it is in fact Emily on the other side of it before rushing forward and throwing your arms around her.

A loud oomph erupts from lips, the sound muffled as you turn your face into her neck. It takes a few seconds for her to react, her arms slowly folding around you as she realizes that it is in fact a hug that you’re giving her and not an attempt to take her to the ground.

Tears leak from your eyes onto the fabric of her purple top. “I’m sorry,” you murmur into her shoulder.

Emily pulls away, her hands not leaving your shoulders as her brown eyes flicker across your face; her features drawn. “You’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. I came here to apologize.”

You shake your head as something between a laugh and a sob bubbles up from your throat. “I’m so mad at you,” you start and reach forward with both hands to clasp her face in yours. “But I am so happy that you’re not dead and I understand why you had to do what you did.” You smile and drop your hands before playfully shoving her. “A bit though, isn’t it? Faking your death and fleeing the country? Where’d you get that idea? Lifetime?”

Emily smiles, flashing her teeth as she inclines her head this way and that. “I did always have a flair for the dramatics.”

The door creaks then and you turn to watch Hotch push the door open. He smiles as he takes in the sight of you and Emily reconciling. “I put on a pot of coffee,” he says. “How many mugs should I bring out?”

You look between him and Emily. “Three,” you answer, turning your attention back to Emily. “Definitely three.”

Emily smiles and follows you inside, greeting Hotch with a short hug before joining you in the living room. As Hotch busies himself in the kitchen and the smell of coffee starts to fill the air, you start to feel like life might finally start to return to normal.