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troquantary · 3 years

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Cutting Hair as Punishment in the Twilight Saga

Okay, I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts around this into a sort-of-essay format for a while, because I find it disturbingly mean-spirited: Meyer has a pattern of using hair-cutting as a form of punishment for characters, especially female characters, who fail to embrace Bella and the Cullens with open arms. I’m talking particularly about Leah and Lauren, both of whom, while not outright antagonists like Victoria or James, are situated along with Rosalie as “against” Bella throughout the series. The Quileute pack, meanwhile, is situated largely “against” the Cullens, meaning Jacob and the rest of the pack get the Haircut of Shame, too.

(Also, I’ve been creeping through @panlight ‘s blog because I thought she had a recent post relating to this -- I was probably thinking of this submission and her addendum, which does discuss Meyer’s “punishment” of certain characters, but that post was about characters suffering for not waiting for True Love, or daring to do the Devil’s Tango before marriage. Still, it’s on-theme and very much worth reading, like all her stuff!)

So here’s the general outline: first I’m gonna talk about the shapeshifters and how their overall lack of choice frames cutting their hair as something forced on them and therefore punitive. Then I’m going to discuss Meyer’s FAQ response where she reveals that Lauren was tricked into cutting off most of her hair over the summer before New Moon, and how this adds an extra fun misogynistic element to the hair-cutting theme with respect to Lauren and Leah. I also use way too many words to do it, sorry.

Punishment | The Shapeshifters Are Given No Other Option

I don’t have the background or knowledge to discuss the significance of long hair to indigenous culture and identity in detail, and my understanding is that different tribes ascribe different meanings to it. What I’ve read it about it suggests that, generally, long hair represents strength of one’s individual spirit and of the community. It’s a source of pride, and is only cut off voluntarily in extraordinary circumstances, often as an expression of grief, or to mark a significant life change.

This sort of works in the context of the shapeshifters all cutting their hair -- phasing into a giant wolf, discovering the existence of the supernatural, and assuming the role of protectors is a major life event for these characters. But the negative associations make it a troubling choice on Meyer’s part, and that’s without even getting into the problem of her imposing her own worldbuilding onto the legends and culture of a real tribe. Because of the lack of choice involved in becoming a shapeshifter, the whole situation feels like a scenario in which the Quileute characters have their hair forcibly cut -- a degrading and traumatic act that (depending on their particular tribal belief) might symbolically sever them from their sense of cultural identity and connection with the rest of their tribe.

It all kind of begs the question: why does Meyer even have shapeshifting work this way? What narrative utility is there in having the length of their hair in human form determine the length of their fur as wolves, thereby compelling the shapeshifters to cut it so it isn’t a physical impediment? It’s another sign of the changes in Jacob, sure, but he’s already being uncharacteristically cold and distant, plus suddenly has the physique of a fit twenty-five-year-old; Bella already knows something’s very wrong. His short hair is just another jarring thing for Bella to notice and mourn, like the loss of Jacob’s “baby face” and general sunniness.

It does work as a symbolic thing, representing another sacrifice Jacob has to make and the change in how he now has to perceive himself -- but he’s already got a literal giant wolf form to represent that change in identity/self-perception. Forcing him to cut his hair too just feels like piling on. My argument here, which I hope will be supported when I discuss Lauren and Leah further in, is that it’s not just piling on, but actively punitive -- because much like Leah and Lauren are “against” Bella, the pack at large is “against” the Cullens pretty much through the end of the series.

The Quileute pack is definitely not a Cullen fanclub. The entire purpose of their existence is to destroy vampires, and the truce they have with the Cullens isn’t friendly. They still don’t particularly like or trust the Cullens even after allying with them in Eclipse, and in Breaking Dawn Sam is fully prepared to go to war against them to enforce the treaty. Bella expresses frustration with Jacob and the pack for not appreciating the Cullens more, yet is curiously less willing to scold Alice, Edward, or Rosalie when they call the Quileutes dogs and complain about their smell. (I think she might reprimand Edward for it at some point, but I don’t remember the exact passage.) Bella even starts throwing around “dog” and “mutt” as an insult herself -- I think we know whose side ol’ “Switzerland” is on, here, and whose side Meyer is on as well. The Quileutes aren’t exactly enemies, and in fact are crucial to the Cullens’ survival in both the newborn and Volutri conflicts, but they’re punished nonetheless because they aren’t wholeheartedly Team Cullen from the get-go.

So to explain why I’m so convinced that there’s a link between hair-cutting and punishment in particular, let’s talk about Lauren. There’s a definite gendered element to it this time, too -- by being tricked into cutting her hair, Lauren isn’t just diminished/shamed, but rendered (*thunderclap*) unfeminine.

Lauren Was Rude To Bella Like Twice, Let’s Humiliate Her

I think Meyer’s answer to the question “What happened to Lauren’s hair?” on her FAQ page speaks for itself:

Ha ha. I had fun imagining this one—I only wished that it had fit into the book somewhere. Lauren fell victim to the “model discovered in the mall” scam. An alleged modeling agent approached Lauren in a mall in Victoria, B.C., and told her she was a natural model. Lauren ate it up. The agent told her that if she did something edgy with her hair, and took some high quality head shots, her future was assured. Lauren followed the instructions—dropping fifteen grand on the pictures taken by the agent’s partner—and waited for her career to begin. She’s still waiting. Snort.

It’s pretty obvious that this was done spitefully. Here’s the list of Lauren’s crimes against humanity Bella at this point in the series: 1) she was jealous of the attention Bella was getting as the new girl; 2) she talked behind Bella’s back once, saying Bella might as well just sit with the Cullens now (and she isn’t wrong); 3) she eyed Bella “scornfully” the day of the La Push beach trip; and perhaps most damningly, 4) she’s blonde.

Post-haircut, she has the gall not to be thrilled that Bella’s deigning to speak to the lowly non-Cullens again, then sides with Jessica after Bella uses Jessica to make a point to her dad, is shitty company, and then risks getting them both raped and murdered in Port Angeles so she could get off on her hallucination of Edward’s voice.

I think it’s pretty common knowledge that long hair is tied to patriarchal notions of femininity and attractiveness. Women with short hair are still derided for being ugly, or assumed to be lesbians in a derogatory sense, or simply considered less feminine and therefore less desirable/worthy (because a woman’s worth depends on her desirability, after all). For many women and girls, losing their long hair -- whether because of illness, or gum getting stuck in it, or whatever -- is very upsetting and a hard blow to their self-esteem. Just look at Alice as an example of Traumatic Short Hair; her hair was shorn like that because she received electroshock “treatments” in an asylum. (Although in Alice’s case, I don’t think her having short hair is punishment, but a facet of the traumatic backstory all female characters in Twilight have to have for some reason. Plus, she started the series with short hair, which distinguishes her from the pack and Lauren, who were tricked or compelled into cutting their long hair during the series.)

But Lauren’s so bitchy, so she deserves it, right? Ha ha, she was mean to Bella and cared about her appearance too much, so now she’s ~ugly!

Leah Has It the Worst and It Makes Me Want To Burn Everything

The misogynistic aspect of hair-cutting as punishment is taken up to like, twelve with Leah. Not only does she suffer for being “against” the Cullens along with the rest of the pack (and Bella, too, so extra sinning), but she suffers uniquely for being the only female shapeshifter. A bunch of teenage boys regularly see her naked body against her will. Her previously devoted boyfriend imprints on her cousin/best friend, Sam dumps her and can’t even explain why, and the whole pack -- including her own brother -- resents her for being upset about it, even though she can’t help the lack of mental privacy. Because of that same lack of mental privacy, she has to hear every gripe the boys have about her, plus every enthralled thought Sam has about Emily while she’s still deeply wounded by their breakup.

She blames herself for her dad’s death, because she phased at the wrong time. We don’t get any indication that her fellow shapeshifters or the elders are trying to reassure her otherwise.

And of course, because she’s a shapeshifter, she has to cut her hair. In addition, because Leah’s a woman, this has the same misogynistic connotations as it did with Lauren. In Leah’s case, though, the de-feminization is compounded by her sudden infertility. It’s clear that Leah attaches her sense of womanhood to her fertility, rightly or wrongly -- she bitterly calls herself a “genetic dead end” in Breaking Dawn and thinks of herself as a freak. She feels like there must be something wrong with her, some un-womanly flaw, that made her one of the shapeshifters at all.

Then, just when Jacob starts to see her as a human being worthy of compassion, he imprints on Renesmee and doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything else anymore. No more bonding with Leah, no blooming friendship to help her heal and come to terms with the new realities of her life. (This is one of those dropped threads that aggravate me to no end -- what was the point of having Leah opening up to Jacob, or starting Jacob on the path of realizing he was being a dick to her this whole time and that she’s a person with value, if he was just going to spend the rest of the book as Renesmee’s love-zombie and never think about it again? Disgusting.)

Leah was a lot more forgiving of Jacob than he deserved at that point in the story, for all the good it did her -- I think she’s mentioned maybe once in Book 3 of Breaking Dawn. At least she got her god-tier moment of yelling at a deranged, pregnant Bella Swan.

Speaking of Bella...

I’m just going to note, for no particular reason, that in Breaking Dawn we get to hear explicitly that Bella’s got hair that falls “almost to her waist” and that she looks like “a freaking supermodel” because she’s so “beautiful and pale.” It just strikes me as a telling contrast at this point.

#twilight renaissance #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #leah clearwater #lauren mallory #jacob black #the wolf pack #long post #i felt myself getting petty about bella okay -- i'm aware it's happening but i have no self control #i also know i sidestepped the racial element to this and it's because i don't feel qualified to speak on it #so any additions from more knowledgeable people on that score are much appreciated

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goldlightsaber · 3 years

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A Quiet Place Part II

Wow, I just came back from the movie theatre, and I am so pleased that this movie was everything I wanted it to be. So here it goes, another movie analysis/review.

Dare I say iconique?

There was a lot hinging A Quiet Place Part II. It is one of the first movies “back in theaters.” There was a lot of anticipation because the movie got delayed for over a year. But I don’t think it could’ve come out at a more perfect time. One of the things I noticed about the world of A Quiet Place was that, in thematic ways, it reflects our own. In the height of the pandemic, everyone in our world was scared, worried about supplies running low, losing loved ones, and grieving a life they once had. Like in the movie, we were all forced to lay low by staying inside. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings, but I found it to be highly relatable and touching in that way (without being tragic but rather uplifting instead).

Onto the actual contents, though. The opening scene was *chef’s kiss.* You feel tension right away because of how eerily quiet the town is mid-day, a foreshadowing of what’s to come. Except everything is too neat, the cars too perfectly parked, no windows broken -- we know it is the calm before the storm. I love the patient shot of the stoplight changing lights. We are waiting for disaster to strike but just don’t know when it will.

The baseball scene subverted a few of my expectations -- I thought Emmett would be a stranger to the family so I was surprised he turned out to be a friendly family acquaintance. This worked well because it probably made Emmett feel some obligation in helping Evelyn and her family later. I also expected Marcus to hit the ball eventually because of the two initial misses -- but then the fireball passes through the sky and life as they know it is over.

Some part of me expected the flashback scene to be superfluous and just an opportunity to show John Krasinski again, but it served its purpose -- when characters refer to “that day,” we feel the gravity of it because of what we saw in the opening segment.

I didn’t expect the monster when it first appeared. You expect Lee to have a conversation with the cop, for the monster to show up soon but not just yet -- and then Lee, almost dissociating, is rushing back to his truck after what was no doubt the most traumatic sight of his life at that point. He starts the car with the it’s-going-to-be-all-right facade a parent must don for their child.

There were several other excellent “oh-shit” moments in this movie. One of my favorites was, after Evelyn sets off the booby trap that attracts the monster (an excellent oh-shit moment in and of itself but already revealed in the trailer), Marcus gets his foot caught in a bear trap. When he screams, it’s like watching a glass you knocked over to the floor crash into a million pieces. My brain was just one big shout of “OH SHIT” and nothing else. Emily Blunt’s acting was superb here and throughout -- the way she played desperation and a simultaneous love for her child was palpable.

Cillian Murphy is an excellent addition to the cast. I was particularly mesmerized by his acting in all the breathy dialogue scenes where he’s protesting against either Evelyn or Regan. Emmett felt believable in all his sweaty, scruffy glory. He keeps insisting he doesn’t want to help, but, very wholesomely, he always does. He’s a sucker for them from the start. And whether he and Regan like it or not, he is slowly becoming the protective father figure in her life. He can’t get in the way of her plans and her genius, and he can never replace Lee, but the love is there. I love their arc.

And speaking of Regan...

Wow, did the kids in this movie shine. Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupp absolutely exceeded my expectations. Boy, could Jupp scream and look scared for his life. He was completely believable in his role. And Simmonds walks with this quiet strength, this gentleness. I loved what they did with the scenes where Regan and Emmett were struggling to communicate and she had to keep bringing him back down to Earth. I love the way this movie changes the game for what communication looks like -- there is rarely yelling or even regular-volume conversation. Instead there is sign language, exhales, whispers, the mouthing of words. This creates a mesmerizing atmosphere for the movie. These silences and moments of white-noise do not mean the absence of humans speaking to each other.

I’m not sure how I feel about the shady, red-eyed community of people on the docks. They looked like they were all on drugs and walked like zombies. And the creepy little girl who trapped Emmett just felt like she belonged to another genre of horror? This isn’t a “creepy children” horror movie, it’s an eldritch monster horror movie! It wasn’t the most believable plot point but I wasn’t super opposed to it, either. I wanted to know more about these shady people. I fully expected them to take Emmett and Regan back to their leader or tribal base, but nope, they were just shady people (the kind not worth saving).

This isn’t a criticism per say but I was definitely expecting more scenes between Emmett and the entire Abbott family, so I was a little sad they split them up and we didn’t get a reunion. This is a possible tease for a third movie -- as is the expanding world of the island and the lack of a total end to the apocalypse. And, of course, there are hints that Evelyn and Emmett might have a future together -- Evelyn symbolically takes off her wedding ring and Emmett reluctantly but naturally fills the father role for the children. At the same time, we leave off at a point where we can imagine what happens next and don’t need to know more -- it can be up to our interpretation. They can end the movie there, since it is clear that the children have figured out how to defeat the monsters.

And speaking of that, the ending had a very Stranger Things feel to it. Never mind that the monsters from each respective series look almost identical -- the ending takes a surprise turn when it is the two Abbott children who take things into their own hands and kill the monsters while their parental figures literally sit back and watch in awe. I appreciated the message here: that young people are innovative, strong and brave enough to do the right thing. They are capable of great things; it’s all right to trust them and let them take the reins.

I think the movie’s atmosphere is just lovely. Just because it’s horror doesn’t mean there can’t be scenic shots of a sunset on the beach. That’s what I like about both movies so much -- they don’t feel like most horror movies because they still leave room for beauty and tenderness and hope.

Overall, a very enjoyable film. I would love to see the family reunion if there is a sequel -- and that the potential sequel is helmed by the right writers/director once again! Go, John Krasinski! He killed it.

#a quiet place #a quiet place part ii #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place ii #john krasinski #emily blunt #cillian murphy #film #horror #noah jupp #millicent simmonds #*heart eyes*#also i nearly CRIED being back in the movie theatre #it was SO BEAUTIFUL i got into a really fancy once where they drew back golden curtains i literally could NOT be happier #ugh what an experience #thank you God for movies

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reidecorating · 3 years

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L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with.

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm.

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,”

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him.

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him.

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change.

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another.

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?”

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer.

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once.

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile.

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body.

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration.

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb. She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”

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httpnxtt · 3 years

Text

Meowstermind - Prentiss x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies!! I’m back with a new fic! This time it is for our girl Emily! I wrote this for my bby @lexieshuntingsstuff for the latest Secret-Fic-Swap in Pom’s discord server! Big thankies to @imagining-in-the-margins and @sunlight-moonrise for helping me plan this and make it what it is today!

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Category: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2k

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

Staring at the black luggage atop the once shared bed, I reach for the small pile of sweaters. A small black paw reaches to swat at me, the pile tumbling from my hand and onto the bed. Sergio looks at me with his big green eyes before curling himself atop the once neat pile. I nudge him to the side, trying to push through the packing. Sergio is a stubborn little guy, instead leaping into the luggage as if to tell me no. Laughing through some tears, I pick up the beautiful little guy, nuzzling my face into his fur while his purrs vibrate through him.

“He really does love you.” Jumping in surprise from the voice in the doorway, I turn with Sergio to see Emily leaning in the doorway with tears in her own eyes. My throat tightens holding more tears back, opting to nuzzle back into the sweet boy in my arms. “You can keep your key, you know.” She whispers, coming toward me. Looking up at her, I see the heartbreak in her beautiful chocolate eyes staring back at me. I can’t tell if it’s actually her or if I’m projecting my own heartbreak onto her.

“Are you sure?” I ask, Sergio pawing at me to give him more attention.

“I’m rarely home anyway.” She says looking at the floor as I force a small laugh that ends up more of a nasally huff in agreement. “Sergio needs his human. Both of his humans.” She whispers, looking me in the eye. I feel the tears bubbling up, my throat tightening more. I turn back to my luggage, setting Sergio to the side of the case before Emily can see the tears fall.

“Thank you.” I breathe out, my voice cracking from the emotions involuntarily pouring out. Footsteps shuffle toward the door, a brief silence before I hear the door close as the tears fall freely down my face.

***

Stepping onto the elevator, I feel my heart plummet. Although it’s been weeks, I still think back to the time spent with Emily. The nights spent watching movies, the endless cuddles on the couch, and the whispered “I love you”s. As I step off the elevator, memories of Emily greeting me as the doors open come rushing back. The way she’d grab my hand, pull me towards her for an endless fit of kisses. The times we’d trip over our own feet fumbling down the hallway, giggles flowing through the short distance.

As the doors open, the hallway is no longer filled with giggles and kisses. A melancholy feel floats through the air now. A reminder of everything that once was. Shuffling down the hall, I dig my key out of my pocket as I approach the doorway. Stepping inside, I’m hit with a burning smell. Rushing over to the kitchen, Emily is pulling something out of the oven with a perplexed look etched into her features. She throws the pan down on the counter. Looking up, our eyes meet as she tosses the oven mitt atop the pan.

“H-hey, I wasn’t, uh, expecting you tonight.” She stuttered before smoothing her hands over the fabric of her dress. The dress.

“Yeah, I uh,” I cough, suppressing the emotions attempting to bubble up. “I came to see Sergio. I didn’t think you’d be here.” I say as Sergio makes himself known, meowing at Emily in the kitchen. She bends down to pick up the sweet feline before making her way over to me as I set my belongings on the counter. I reach up to pet him between his ears as his purrs ring between us. I feel Emily’s eyes on me, my gaze cast to the floor. I slowly look up, taking in the striking appearance of the woman in front of me. “Wow.” I whisper. My eyes linger on the dress. The one I bought her to wear for our first anniversary. The one she made sure to wear every anniversary after that. “You look beautifu-” I compliment, reaching for her before a loud knock at the door interrupts. Emily’s eyes widen, looking between the door and I before going to set Sergio down. I put my hand out to stop her. “Don’t worry, I can get it.” I smile, seeing a slight panic in her eyes before making my way over to the door.

My hand grasps the knob, swinging the door open towards me. “Hello beau-” the man is cut off, taking in my appearance. He’s an attractive man. An attractive man with flowers in his hands. An attractive man with flowers at Emily’s apartment.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. You’re looking for Emily. Come in.” I choke out, before moving from the doorway. I walk back to the counter, coming face to face with the wide-eyed woman staring at me.

“Y/N, I can exp-” Emily starts, setting Sergio down on the couch, reaching out. I snatch my bag from the counter before rushing toward the door. As I pull the door open, Sergio brushes against my ankles trying to stop me from leaving yet again. Looking down at the feline, a single tear slips down my cheek. Turning to Emily, I see her standing at the counter in our dress as Emily’s guest stands feet away with the bouquet still in his hands.

“Goodbye, Emily.”

***

Walking down the hallway, I force myself to stare at the door ahead. There’s no more reminiscing on what was, only what is. After the run-in with Emily’s date, I figured it was best to stay away for a while. But I missed that sweet feline something terrible. So, Emily and I agreed I could meet her when she wasn’t away on a case to pick up Sergio and take him to my new apartment for a few days before returning him. Essentially, we share custody of Sergio much like you would a human child.

Walking up to the door, I lift my fist to the door to knock. I still have my key, Emily insisted I keep it. It felt… wrong. Knowing that these four walls were no longer my home, no matter how much my heart longed to return. Emily was no longer mine, and I had to accept that. Emotions try to bubble up, but I force to suppress them as the door swings open to reveal an exasperated Emily on the other side.

“Y/N, hi. I was uh,” she stops, trying to catch her breath. “I was just trying to find Sergio but he seems to be avoiding me at all costs.” She breathes out as I see Sergio peek his head around the bedroom entrance, his bright green eyes reflecting in my own as Emily just squints and glares at the cat. I give a slight laugh as I move to set my stuff on the counter.

“He seems to be on stealth mode right now.” I giggle, shuffling down the hall with Emily in tow behind me. As we push open the door, Sergio is sitting atop the comforter kneading into the fabric while purring as loud as a motor. He looks over at Emily and I, just staring. As Emily makes one small move toward the bed, Sergio bolts off the bed into the closet across the room. Emily looks to me with annoyance in her eyes as a smile works its way to my lips. She sneaks over to the closet, finding Sergio sitting in the middle of the floor. As she bends down to grasp the animal, he bolts through her hands and legs making a B-line for under the bed. He squirms his way to the center at the furthest part of the bed. A laugh escapes my throat as Emily walks back over to me, moving to lie on her stomach. As she kneels on the floor, she grasps my wrist to pull me down with her.

As my knees hit the floor, Emily worms her way under the bed with only her waist down visible. I shuffle down, moving my way to lie beside her. Both our arms are outstretched trying to attract the feline who is simply staring at us with his bright eyes, and I could swear I saw a smile in his eyes. The longer this goes on, the more flustered Emily becomes, and the more giggles escape me. As the minutes pass, Emily works to attract Sergio, but my eyes are only on the woman beside me. Eventually, she rests her arms on the floor. Turning her head to look at me giggling before bursting into her own fit of giggles. Our cheeks brush against the carpet as we just stare at one another laughing. As it dies down, I’m left looking into Emily’s eyes.

“Hey, um” she starts, looking down to clear her throat. “Do you just want to stay here tonight?” She asks, a look in her eye I can’t quite pinpoint. “I bet we can trap him tomorrow.”

“He does have to come out sometime.” I smile, seeing the corners of her lips turn upward. She nods before moving to get out of the small space. As I squirm my way out, Emily has already disappeared. Walking down the hall, I drag my fingers across the drywall reminiscing on the time once spent here. Reaching the end, I lean my shoulder against the wall as Emily paces through the room, phone to ear. Her hair is up, but her bangs and wisps are flying in every direction. Even in ratty house clothes with her hair a mess, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. As she hands up the call, she notices me standing here.

“I ordered a pizza. I figured we could just watch some movies if you were up for it?” She questions, her shoulders tense as if she’s… nervous. I nod and smile, grabbing her hand and pull us toward the couch.

Over the next few hours, it’s just us. We ate half the pizza as we watched our favorite movies. At some point, we stopped actually watching what was on the screen, lost in conversation with one another. “So,” I begin, not sure how to start. “How’s Andrew?” I ask, looking down to fiddle with my fingers.

“I wouldn’t know.” she replies as I feel her eyes boring into me.

“Oh.” I whisper, picking at the skin around my nails.

“I didn’t actually want to go on that date.” She announces, placing her hands over my own. I look up at her with shock in my eyes. “I picked him because he is nothing like you. I thought that would make it easier.” I see a single tear fall down her cheek before she quickly wipes it away. “But the whole time, I still just wished it were you.” She whispers, cupping my cheek with her hand as I stare into her glossy eyes, tears pricking at my own. I lean into her hand before wrapping my arms around her. I bury my face into the crook of her neck as her arms wrap around my waist. As we lay there, I feel content. I feel blissful. I roll over to lay along the side of Emily, my hand draping over her stomach as Emily presses a kiss to the top of my head.

As we settle back into a comfortable silence, focusing on the motions on the screen, our lovable feline hops up to Emily’s lap to curl into a ball. He tucks his paws beneath his body as he purrs like a motor. “Well look who came to the party.” I laugh.

“Well… I guess that means you could go home now.” Emily states. I look up at her in shock, seeing the sly smile play on her lips. I gently smack her chest before curling into her side, petting Sergio between his soft ears.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to get rid of me now, Emily.” I smile against her. She wraps her arms around me tighter, our little mastermind curling himself between us as he stitched our little family back together with his tiny little paws.

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

CM Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @reidetic @sunlight-moonrise @prettyricky187 @itslatinamagia @calm-and-doctor @vintagexparker

#httpnxtt #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x fem reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x you #ssa emily prentiss

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farrawayfromthere · 3 years

Text

Let’s Not Let A Year Pass By This Time

Pairing: Jordan Todd/Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 2k

Summary: After the family annihilator case that had been the last straw for Jordan at the BAU, they don’t see each other for a year.

A/N: for Day 4 of CM Fanfiction Week (Underrated character/pairing); tagging @simmonsmilf and @starry-eyed-spence (gif credit to @j3mily)

Jordan’s in line at a coffee shop in DC, eyeing a chocolate chip muffin in the display case with her name on it.

She fidgets with the zipper on her wallet then wonders with a small sigh if she’d be better off ordering an egg sandwich for the protein.

Today, her team’ll be flying up to a small city in New Hampshire who’s two post offices have both received bomb threats in the last couple days. She knows she’ll be interviewing postal workers all day; she’s gonna need the energy.

“Jordan? Agent Todd? Is that you?”

It’s a voice she hasn’t heard in what feels like a lifetime.

Jordan looks over her shoulder and finds herself face to face with a woman she hasn’t seen in over a year, just a couple customers behind her.

Emily’s face splits into that same huge, brilliant smile Jordan remembers.

“It is you! My god!”

She looks.... really good.

“Agent Prentiss,” Jordan says, eyes growing wide, mouth dropping open slightly.

Emily’s grown her bangs out, pushed them to the sides.

Her dark, dark brown hair falls smoothly, elegantly just past her shoulders.

She’s wearing a black pantsuit, well-tailored. A black, silky looking blouse underneath and black, thick heeled boots that make her feel even taller than Jordan remembers.

She looks, really, really good.

The guy behind her clears his throat and Jordan realizes the line has moved along.

She gestures for him and the lady behind him to go ahead, and reaches for Emily’s sleeve.

“It’s great to see you,” Emily says.

Jordan’s laugh is a disbelieving exhale.

The other woman extends a hand to shake and Jordan feels a strange, subtle swoop in her stomach when their palms press against one another’s.

Emily’s is still cool; Jordan’s, still warm.

Jordan wonders if Emily’s one of those people who always feels cold, just like she’s one of those people who always feels warm.

Suddenly, all the turtlenecks and sweaters she’d seen her wear around the BAU make a little more sense.

Emily’s hand squeezes hers back, and Jordan blinks up at her.

Emily’s eyes are bright, and even through their automatic, habitual coolness, suddenly, a little shy.

“Um, hi,” Jordan says, the words a little breathless.

“Long time no see,” Emily says.

“You’re telling me.”

Emily blinks and gives her a rueful little half-grin.

“I never called.”

“Well, I didn’t either,” Jordan says, keeping humor in her voice, “I meant to, in that first month, but—.”

“We just got so busy after you left. I didn’t realize how much time was passing, I’m so sorry,” Emily says.

They’d told each other they would stay in touch, but the days and weeks and months had just—slipped by.

By the time Jordan realized that an unacceptable amount of time had passed and she’d yet to make good on her promise to grab lunch or dinner with the older agent, the mere idea of picking up the phone and dialing her number made Jordan feel antsy with unease.

It would’ve been too weird; too awkward.

“It’s okay,” Jordan says, “Neither did I.”

Emily blows air out of her cheeks, expression full of relief.

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah, Prentiss. We’re good.”

She allows herself to take in Emily’s new hair for a moment.

She gestures lazily at it with her index finger.

“I gotta say. I like the no bangs look on you. Very elegant. Very mysterious FBI woman.”

Twin patches of pink appear high in her cheeks.

“Thanks.”

Jordan smiles.

“You still look like you could kill a man with one stomp of those boots though.”

A grin breaks through Emily’s blush.

“Oh, so they’re giving off the energy I’d hoped they would when I bought them?”

“If the energy you had in mind was ‘don’t mess with me’, then yeah, I’d say so.”

“Next,” the young man at the cashier calls.

Jordan winks at Emily, then steps forward to order her sandwich and coffee. She’s surprised when she finishes and the cashier looks over her shoulder to speak to Emily.

Quickly and efficiently, the taller woman orders herself a medium coffee and an old-fashioned donut from the display case. She pays for both of their orders without a moment’s hesitation, before Jordan can even open her mouth to protest.

“Thanks,” Emily tells the cashier, while Jordan, stomach swirling with a deep warmth that’s startling in its suddenness, places a couple bills in the tip jar.

They sit at a small table for two by the window.

When Jordan looks up from skim milk and raw sugar into her coffee, Emily’s eyes are already cautiously on her.

“So how have you been,” the taller woman asks.

“Uh, good,” Jordan says, then after a moment, ”I’m where I belong.”

“I’m glad,” Emily says, grinning as she mixed cream and a Splenda into her own coffee, “You didn’t seem to like working at the BAU very much.”

“I didn’t,” Jordan says honestly, “But some parts of the experience were better than others. Plus, JJ and I have been friends since our time at the Academy so....”

Emily pushes her hair behind her shoulders, revealing small silver disk shaped earrings that glimmer as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Jordan hesitates just a moment before saying it.

“I’ve gotta say: You look good, Emily.”

Emily’s eyes twinkle; a pleased smile spreads across her face, so genuine that Jordan realizes, for the first time, that Emily Prentiss has a perfect pair of tiny dimples.

Her eyes take in Jordan’s pristine navy blazer, her well styled ponytail. They linger briefly on her mouth, today a deep plum.

“Well, you look better.”

Jordan almost spits out her first sip of coffee; She’s acutely aware that her cheeks have just gone very hot.

Emily‘s smile is a bit too smug for Jordan’s liking. She rolls her eyes.

“I know I do.”

“Oh, really,” Emily exclaims with a grin.

Jordan looks down at her egg sandwich for a moment, appetite suddenly non-existent.

The fluttering in her stomach, the smell of Emily’s perfume is making it hard to think.

She smiles a small, tentative smile.

“How’s life?”

Emily takes a sip from her coffee.

“You know. Chasing down serial killers most days of the week, coming home, watching re-runs of The Sopranos, passing out. Rinse... and repeat.”

Jordan tilts her head.

“No special someone or someones’ to keep things interesting?”

Emily meets her eyes.

“Well I don’t know about special.... Distractions? Sure... but... uh... nobody I care very much about, and definitely nobody who cares very much about me. What about you?”

Jordan snorts.

“I don’t know about special,” she says, repeating Emily’s earlier words before half-smiling and shaking her head, “No. Nobody.”

“That’s good.”

Jordan raises a brow.

Emily winces at herself.

“I mean.... hey, that’s... it’s tough out here?”

Jordan laughs, the sound loud and genuine.

Emily hums, taking a sip of her coffee.

“How’s JJ,” Jordan asks, “The rest of the team?”

Emily sets her coffee down and smiles a soft smile.

“Good. She’s good. We all are,” Emily says, then after a pause, “She loves Will and Henry very much. I think they’re what keep her going now... but... I also think they make everything much harder than it used to be for her. She sees them in every case, and it scares her so much, even though she’ll never admit it.”

Jordan nods, understanding.

“I bet it helps though,” she muses, “To have someone to come home to. People to hold you at the end of those long-ass days you all have over at the BAU.”

Emily’s smile grows more faint.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says quietly.

“Well,” Jordan says, just as quiet, “Neither would I. But that’s what I imagine.”

“Yeah, well... it didn’t work out very well for Hotch,” Emily says.

Jordan fixes her gaze on her coffee.

She’d been overseas during Haley Hotchner’s funeral; she’d wondered how her murder had affected the team at the BAU, how it had affected Emily.

They all already had trust issues... she wondered just how much more they all feared intimacy now....

Emily seems to return to her senses, eyes darting up to meet Jordan’s and startling a little when she recognizes the compassion Jordan can’t help but feel for her.

Emily had been the best part of her time at the BAU.

And okay, maybe Jordan had developed a little, truly tiny, irrelevant crush on her in that time, and maybe.... maybe it had been a little devastating that they’d never gotten in touch again after she’d left the BAU—

Regardless, Jordan wants the woman sitting across from her to be happy.

She smiles faintly at her, then her eyes catch sight of the clock hanging over the cafe’s entrance and she starts.

“Shit,” she says, standing up, “I’m gonna be late.”

Emily looks up at her, for a second panicked, then she’s scrambling in her bag for something.

“Uh—please wait.”

She pulls out a pen and takes the cafe receipt Jordan’s crumbled up and forgotten on the table.

“We’ve gotta catch up properly, Agent Todd,” she says, scribbling her number on the back of it, “New number.”

Jordan tugs her phone from her purse.

“Just read it out to me, I’ll add you in right now,” she says.

Emily does.

Jordan smiles at it, then hesitates.

“Can I snap a quick photo of you for your contact? I‘m actively working with four women named Emily on three different continents.”

Emily’s eyes flash with a hint of something Jordan can’t decipher, then she nods.

“Sure—uh—how do I look? You’re gonna have to deal with this picture of me forever.”

“You know you look good,” Jordan says, holding up the phone, “But I’ll allow you one retake if you don’t like it.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

Emily straightens her back. She gives a small, close mouthed smile for the picture, dark eyes looking deeply into the camera.

“One... two... okay, got it.”

Jordan shows the picture to her and Emily grimaces.

“Ugh.”

Jordan scoffs.

“Oh, come on. You look like an English rose or whatever. It’s a good picture.”

“An English rose,” Emily repeats, laughing.

Jordan glances down at her still open camera and, lips quirking, snaps another photo.

This time, she catches Emily, eyebrows drawn up in amusement, grinning. She’s looking warmly out at Jordan over the lens of the camera rather than looking into it head on.

“Oh, I’m keeping this one.”

“What? Hey. Wait, let me see.”

Jordan shows her and Emily groans.

“No.... no, no, no.”

“Too bad it’s your one retake, huh?”

“But I didn’t even know you were taking it!”

“My phone, my rules,” Jordan says, putting her phone away and looking down at her with a grin, “I guess I’ll talk to ya later.”

Emily’s still grumbling under her breath.

Jordan lets a hand fall on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before making for the doors.

“Hey Jordan,” she hears behind her.

And Jordan remembers in that moment that she likes the sound of her first name in Emily’s mouth.

She looks over her shoulder.

“Let’s not let a year pass by this time, alright,” Emily calls.

Jordan laughs, “Let’s make it two!”

“Please don’t,” Emily calls back.

“Or three!”

On the train, she tugs out her phone again, smiling a little at Emily’s contact photo.

She dials her number and Emily picks up on the second ring.

“Well this is nice. You gave me your real number,” Jordan says.

Emily snorts.

“I see you have a very high opinion of me.”

Jordan hesitates.

“Well, I’ll be honest... I don’t know you very well. All I know....”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a gentle whoosh.

“All I know was that you were the only thing that made my time at the BAU bearable, Emily. You stood up for me when nobody else did. You cared enough to check up on me when I was having a bad day. Even when I just acted like a jerk in return. And I’ll never forget that.“

She stops to let the honesty of her words hang in the air, then:

“I honestly was a little bummed out that we never hung out outside of work like we said we would.”

Emily seems stunned into silence by Jordan’s honesty.

Jordan doesn’t care.

She’s happy she’s said it.

Happy Emily knows that she brought good into someone’s life, at least for a little while.

“I don’t know what to say,” Emily murmurs.

“You’re one of those people who can’t handle intense sincerity, huh,” Jordan jokes.

Silence again; she must be walking.

Jordan can hear the click of her thick heels even over the phone.

“Not on a daily basis, no,” Emily says at last, but there’s a happy edge to her voice, “Confession from me?”

“Go for it.”

“It bummed me out a little too, that we never got together like we’d planned. You were excellent company, Jordan Todd. And I... I guess I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve really missed you.”

Jordan finds herself smiling.

“Sap.”

Emily laughs and Jordan chuckles in response.

For a second there’s silence on the line, then:

“Let’s get lunch this week,” Emily says, “Someplace good.”

Jordan bites the inside of her lower lip, trying to fight her own smile, knowing it’s a fight she’s going to be having with herself all day.

She knows today will be the day she’ll be called out for asking about bomb threat details with a glimmer of a smile on her face.

She doesn’t care.

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Name the place and I’m there.”

#cmficweek #jordan todd x emily prentiss #jormily #damn it they could've been great #jordan todd #emily prentiss #sbshfjsjdkdkrjrjr i don’t know what this is

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (side pairings Morcia, WillxJJ, others in flirtation)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: Now posted on tumblr and Ao3, Click Here

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: This is pretty tame, Emily is just a little intense and eager because Spencer is... well, Spencer, and when she realizes all he can do? Oh she is chomping at the bit. Some trance-like things and witchy stuff and Hotch being territorial without being able to admit it.)

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: this takes place in chapter 02, what you will all see on Saturday evening, and this version is insanely unpolished (I’m about to go through and fix it up and give it a good make-over) but basically this is the first time Spencer is meeting Emily Prentiss and it makes... an impression. Also, Emily has been at the BAU for about 0.2 seconds and Hotch is already done with her. The sibling energy I love to see. It’s also hella long, as an apology for missing last week and being a day late. All you’ve missed is Spencer about ran into Emily turning a corner and she saved him from spilling his case files and coffee all over the floor. Now they are talking)

–

“I apologize, I thought you were an intern or still in the academy.”

“It’s alright, everyone does,” Spencer says without taking offense. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was or lasted very long if he did; however, if he had a nickel for every time someone had been surprised by his age, he’d be as rich as Father Rossi. His full hands actually aids him as he mentions, “I don’t usually shake hands with people, so don’t think me rude. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He offers her a smile in exchange, and it is mirrored on her face just as her surprise kicks up another notch.

“Doctor, my my I am in for a trip on this team, aren’t I?” she laughs, and it’s a melodic thing that stretches over an expanse of time and history. Ballrooms in Russia and palors of France, Elizabethan and the roaring 20’s and everything in between all rolled into one. He’s not sure how he sees it, an impossible thing, but he can read it like a book and that must have something to do with what she is. “Emily Prentiss, it is a remarkable pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. Now, I have to ask--” her tone is so charming and playful and probing he barely notices the nuance, “And I’m sure it’s taboo around here, but I have to know -- your regeneration process. Tell me what it is or what you do. You look so young.”

“I am young,” he states simply, finally stunned by a question he’s not usually asked.

“Yes, yes, we all can’t be a thousand years old like your fearless Vampire leader,” she waves off and Spencer’s eyes widen because… he hadn’t known Hotch was that old. Sure he’d said he’d been alive for the better part of a millennia, but he always said it like a hyperbole. A turn of phrase that’s off by a couple centuries. But --

A thousand years old.

That would put him…

God, that would put him alive, as a human, just before the start of The Crusades.

“Oh, did he keep that to himself? Oops, my bad. Pretend you don’t know. Anyway -- so are you a Shifter? Or use a particular spell? Oh, or is it a curse? I’m fascinated by curses, I don’t use them often myself but the rigidity of terms using a power so chaotic is just such a fun juxtaposition that I--”

“No, no, I’m… normal, human,” Spencer interrupts her, still the smallest bit shell-shocked, but now connects a few dots himself as she speaks. Realizes very suddenly that Ms. Prentiss appears ageless because she is ageless. She’s also a Witch. One of the broadest terms for subspecies categories, which really doesn’t do it justice. A Witch could be a number of things. Someone who uses magic and science and the very Earth itself paired with the spiritual planes to do impossible things. Witches are beings so powerful they should be uncategorizable. Something Spencer is fascinated by as well. He’s never met anyone like Emily. “I look young because I am young. I’m 27, I’ve only been with the BAU for the past three years. I’m a little excited to not be the newbie on the team any more,” he tries to joke, but Emily’s gaze has gone distant and sharp all at once.

“You’re only 27? And you’re a doctor?” She asks in clarification, Spencer nodding along each time. “You’ve been a doctor, since becoming an FBI agent?”

“Um, well -- I’m not a medical doctor. I do have three doctorates, though; in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering,” he finds himself shrinking a bit under her intensely interested gaze. “What?”

“Chemistry?” she asks, vaguely more distant.

“That was my first doctorate,” he murmurs back, not sure what has her looking so contemplative.

“You’ve achieved all of this: three doctorates, FBI agent, BAU -- in 27 years?” she questions, a grave yet wondrous sound.

“Technically I did all of that in 15 years. I graduated high school when I was 12,” he manages to do more than mumble, and Emily’s wide-eyed stare has him spewing forth information like it requires an explanation. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words a minute, and my IQ is 187 so by human standards yes -- I’m a genius, and borderline on the advanced brain developments scale. But I’m still human. Nothing paranormal or extraordinary.”

The pause that follows is palpable.

“Oh,” she says in an exhale, “Oh, you young soul. You have no idea, do you? What you are capable of...” She tilts her head as she steps closer and Spencer is very suddenly aware that he’s not sure she’s blinked since they started speaking about his qualifications. What he can do, how he got to where he is. No one usually shows this much interest, he makes them uncomfortable for reasons he doesn’t always understand.

Emily doesn’t look uncomfortable, she looks… hungry.

“You are so very, very extraordinary. Exceptional, really. Look at all of what you’ve accomplished with just 15 years of life.” That astonished sound again, like she can’t believe her luck--

And then she’s in his space, gaze boring into his, and Spencer can see galaxies in the depth of her eyes. His breath stolen from him and feet rooted to the floor. So he doesn’t step away as she leans just the smallest bit closer, words resonating with echoes across ages.

“Imagine what you could do with a thousand.”

“Prentiss,” the deep voice of Hotch’s monotone (edged in something vaguely aggressive, and more than a little aggravated) breaks through their moment. The trance fading like a fog from Spencer’s eyes. “No recruiting. It’s in your contract.”

“You have such a gift, it’s a shame to waste it,” Emily whispers in a rush as Hotch approaches them from down the hall. More earnest than intimidating, now.

“Prentiss!”

“Think about it,” she winks, and then turns to give Hotch a smile that’s all teeth so sharp she resembles a shark. “Oh, what a sour face. What’s wrong? Were you planning on asking him first? You snooze, you lose.”

“Conference room,” he instructs, pointing the way Spencer had just come. “Team meeting in 20 minutes. Try not to summon anything between here and there.” She sticks her tongue out at him childishly as she leaves, and sends a quirk of a smile Spencer’s direction that shifts her whole expression into something comically entertained. He’s never seen Hotch interact with someone like this, like they were… familiar, even exasperatingly so. The closest in comparison is probably Father Rossi. But this is less like old friends and more like sibling rivalry.

The space Emily had just vacated is suddenly filled with Hotch, an overwhelmingly welcomed presence and it eases the tension out of Spencer’s spine and shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there.

“Are you okay?” he asks, low and quiet. They’re the only ones in the hallway, but secrecy is a hard habit to break.

Spencer nods, still gaining his bearings once more. “I think so. That didn’t feel like hypnotism. I don’t know what that was.”

“Prentiss doesn’t manipulate minds or the wills of other people,” Hotch tells him, which is soothing if not for the foreboding question of what just occurred. “She doesn’t need to. She can do a lot of things: change her face, her voice, make illusions and talk circles around anyone -- even you.” Spencer looks up to him at that, aware that his level of intelligence is the only thing that keeps him safe from JJ or Hotch’s influence. His mind can’t be bent, or tricked.

“Then what was she doing? I felt compelled but… not against my will. What was that?” he asks, also quiet but much more high in pitch as his confusion turns his voice to a winded sound.

Hotch’s thin, stern frown does nothing to alleviate the apprehension caught up in his chest like a bad cold.

“Possibility,” he states, grim and not liking that Spencer had fallen prey to such a short moment with Emily Prentiss and her promise of what her craft could do for him. Hotch is well aware that Spencer’s gift of soaking up every speck on information he’s given like a sponge isn’t something to let wither and die like so many before him. There’s so much he could do with an infinite life, such as his and Emily’s, but the curse of living forever alone is not something to be taken lightly. And not to be decided by someone who still has so much more life to live unaided by other forces.

However, Emily was right about one thing. Hotch can’t deny that he’s thought about it. More than considered it as a definite possibility.

An offer, all his own.

–

Tagged list so far: @physics-magic, @thaddeusly, @ssa-noa, @ssa-sarahsunshine, @tobias-hankel, @reidology, @mintphoenix

#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #it's a very long one as an apology for missing last week and being a day late #and also because it's COOL and I have no self control #Emily and Spencer would be a terrifying duo honestly #Also Emily and Hotch have the best sibling relationship ever #if anyone wants in on that taglist hit me up via ask or comment or rb #the story is posted! Updates on Saturday evenings #Extraordinary #HotchReid #Katyswriting #Katyswip #wip wednesday

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Had a Dream (Part Two) -- BAU Team

“Rules”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, discussion of bondage and BDSM themes. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Emily Prentiss x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: I swear, the next part is when things get REAL!

A few hours later, the doorbell rang. I had been sitting on the couch anxiously, watching the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until Emily was supposed to show up. Hotch had invited her to show up early to help ease me into all of this because it was so out of pocket. I liked the idea of what was going to happen, but he wanted to make sure that I was comfortable over all else. If the team showed up and I backpedaled on the idea, he was going to kick them out. If any of them were uncomfortable, he was going to make sure they were taken care of and that they would get home safe. This was all supposed to be fun and safe. No one was supposed to be uneasy. Nerves were okay, obviously, but being entirely unsure was another thing. That was why Emily showed up first.

Hotch opened the door and invited her in. I stood to face her, and I noted how she paused in the doorway to drink in my appearance. A red v-neck shirt was tucked into my sweatpants, no bra or panties to cover up any part of me. My nipples were already poking against my shirt in response to my excitement. Emily noticed right away, and she licked her lips.

“Baby girl…” she cooed, meandering casually over to me. I stayed silent. “You okay?” I nodded and smiled. “Good girl.” She wiped a thumb slowly and seductively over my bottom lip. “He wants me to talk over everything with you. Sit.”

I eyed Hotch out of the corner of my eye as I followed her direction. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. I knew that he knew my limits like the back of his hand, but being safe and comfortable included discussing everything with the team as they would show up, and the best way to make me be honest was to discuss it with someone who wasn’t him— someone I wasn’t trying to impress for the sake of our relationship outside of the bedroom. Emily was going to review everything with me, then, when the entire team was there, she was going to present it all for them like we did with profiles during cases.

“We’re not playing right now, Y/N,” she said as she sat across from me. “This is just a discussion about your limits, your likes, what you expect, and so on. It’s imperative that you’re honest with me so that we can all please you the best we can. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I need you to speak up. This only works with verbal communication.”

“I understand,” I croaked.

“Good.” She leaned back. “They’re going to show up in twenty minutes, at which point, they will sit down on the couches while you kneel beside me and Hotch. You let us worry about communicating with them and making sure they’re still alright with all of this. I want you to just focus on not getting ahead of yourself. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll start with a safe word. What do you want it to be?”

I looked at Hotch again to see him gesture for me to answer. I sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled like Hotch— like cinnamon and pine. A thought struck me. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon will mean a complete stop to the scene. No matter what’s happening, everyone will stop what they’re doing, and we’ll assess the situation. You’ll only use cinnamon when absolutely necessary.”

“Yes.”

“He says you want to use the playroom, not the bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“That means all of the toys will be down there for them to consider. What do you not want to use?”

I considered. Mine and Hotch’s playroom was down in the basement. It was one large, open space with a California King bed pressed against the far right wall, and toys organized everywhere around the room. There were cases, shelves, hooks, drawers, everything filled with toys for pleasure and punishment. There were ropes, chains, collars, zip ties, handcuffs, and leather cuffs all for the purpose of bondage. Ball gags, O-gags, cock gags (front, back, and double sided), and duct tape for keeping me quiet. Vibrators, dildos, plugs, strap ons, lube, and fake cum (for the strap ons) to please me. Paddles, shockers, clamps, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, clothes pins, and so on for punishment. The whole shabang. Hotch and I spent a lot of our time collecting all of those things throughout our relationship based on our changing comfort zones. I wasn’t sure, however, how far I wanted the team to go with me…

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me, Y/N, or this won’t work.”

I gulped. “No pain— except for clamps.”

Hotch grinned in the corner. He knew I was a sucker for clamps. We pretended like they were a punishment, but we both knew they only gave me more pleasure than pain.

“Do you want them to tie you up?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Gag you?”

“Yes.”

“Degrade you?”

“Yes.”

“Spank you?”

“Yes.”

“Contraceptives?”

“Yes,” Hotch beat me to it. “They’re on birth control, but I want the men to wear condoms.”

Emily looked at me. “Y/N?”

I nodded an agreement. “Yes. But I want the girls to use the fake cum, if they want.” I knew Emily was into that.

“Names and titles?”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?”

“Baby girl, baby, princess, slut, whore, anything along those lines.”

“And for them?”

“Whatever they want.”

“We’ll discuss it with them when they get here,” Hotch offered.

Emily and I both nodded. She continued, “Edging?”

“Yes.”

“Ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Forced orgasms?”

“Yes.”

“Roleplay?”

“What kind?”

“Consensual non consensual.”

I rubbed my thighs together as I felt her words go straight to my core. “Yes…”

“Voyeurism?”

“Yes.”

“Teacher roleplay?”

“I—“ I hesitated. “In what sense?”

“Rossi said he likes teaching people how to please women.”

My eyes widened. I knew that Rossi… Well, I knew that he was like me and Hotch because he invited us to a party once, but I never expected… “Yes. And, I, uh… I trust him to lightly use a flogger on me in that case. But only him.”

“Noted. Double penetration?”

“No.”

“Anal?”

“No.”

“Oral, female and male?”

“Yes to both.”

“Breath play?”

“No.”

“Choking?”

“Lightly.”

Emily looked to Hotch. “Can you think of anything else?”

“If you’re gagged, do you want to use Colors?” he asked me directly.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He turned to Emily to explain, “They’ll knock three times or hold out three fingers for green— which means good. They’ll knock twice or hold out two fingers for yellow— meaning slow down, check up, or change scene. They’ll knock once or hold up one finger for red— full stop.”

“Okay,” Emily agreed. “Easy enough.” She smiled at me. “See? It wasn’t so bad.”

I wiggled my hips around slightly. “Mhm. Not- Not at all.”

She squinted. “Baby girl… You still have ten minutes.”

I whimpered. “I know, Mistress. I’m already eager, though.”

Emily licked her teeth and shifted in his seat. “Come keep my thigh warm, then.” I immediately jumped to my feet and hurried over to her. “Face Sir.” I did as I was told, sitting on Emily’s left thigh, my back against her warm chest, my face pouting up at Hotch, still standing across the room with his arms crossed. “You can grind, but don’t edge.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” I whimpered as I slowly moved my hips forwards and back, feeling my clit rub against the seam in my sweatpants. “Fuck…”

“You’re already soaking your pants, princess,” she chuckled wickedly in my ear. “We’re going to have so much fun ruining you. Are you excited to be treated like the needy fucking whore you are?”

I nodded eagerly and moaned my way through a, “Yes, Mistress.”

The doorbell suddenly rang, making me jump. Emily caught me and held me steady. “Shhh… They’re just early. Probably just as eager to get started as you are.” She brushed my hair off my shoulders. “Are you still okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Sir and I are in charge. We’ll make sure you’re okay the entire time.”

The doorbell rang again, so Hotch pushed himself off the wall and turned to open it. Emily patted my hips, a signal for me to stand up. I recalled that she wanted me to kneel beside her for this part. So, as she moved to stand in the front of the room, I followed, then slowly got down on my knees beside her, my bicep pressed against the outside of her right leg. She ran her palm over the top of my head to silently compliment me.

When the door opened and Hotch ushered them in, I saw Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, JJ, and Spencer all enter in that order. I nuzzled against Emily’s side to show that I was nervous.

“You’re okay?” she asked in a whisper. I nodded. “Speak.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered back.

“Tap my leg for Colors. Once for red, two for yellow, three for green.”

I nudged her leg with my shoulder three times.

As the team filed into the living room, they all took notice of my obedience. Rossi was grinning at me. He always wanted to play with me and Hotch, but every time we planning something, work got in the way. Now, though, he was going to ruin me, just like Emily promised. His excitement clearly couldn’t be contained. Morgan was also grinning, just not in the same dominant way Rossi was. He was a playboy, and he seemed like the kind of guy who always considered partaking in something like this but never got the chance until now. That being said, I could tell he was holding back because Garcia was holding his hand a little tight, unsure of what to do with herself. I knew if there was anyone we had to worry about most, it was probably her. JJ and Spencer, however, seemed to be staring at me and Emily with lust already glossing over their eyes. JJ was more trained on Emily than me, but Spencer looked like he wanted to ravish me— which, truth be told, caught me off guard. I knew that he was like us and Rossi, too, but it always seemed more hypothetical than anything else. Hotch and I were convinced that he only knew as much as he did about BDSM because of all the books he had read over time. Now that the opportunity had arisen to try everything he wanted, I recognized the look in his eyes that said: “I’m going to fuck you sore.”

Hotch approached the front of the room. The team sat down, and Hotch stood on my right side. Emily asked me for Colors again, so I nudged her three times. When she had the green light, she told me to keep my eyes on the ground. When I followed her orders, Hotch began.

“Before we start, it’s imperative that everyone here understands that you are not being pressured to be here. No one will judge you for needing a break, needing some air, or needing to leave entirely. We’ve invited you as guests. Your safety is just as important as ours. If at any moment you feel overwhelmed, come speak to me or Emily. If you just need a moment to yourself, there are cups out on the counter for drinks, and there are snacks. There will be no alcohol allowed, however. The table on the patio in the backyard is clean. Please, if you need some air, don’t hesitate to go sit outside for a bit. If you need to leave, we’ll arrange that immediately. Does everyone understand?”

There were a few hums of agreement, and I assumed that they were all nodding.

“Y/N and I have discussed everything together. Hotch and I will present their limits and likes, and we’ll take questions as we go. Afterwards, they’ll be asked to address you to test titles. If you don’t want to use titles, tell them. They’ll just use your name. Do you understand?”

More hums.

“We’ve discussed two methods of safety during the scenes. The safe word ‘Cinnamon’ means that the scene should come to a complete stop. If anyone uses this word, everyone needs to stop what they're doing so that we can address the situation. If Y/N uses the safe word, he’ll handle it. Y/N has expressed that they are fine with using gags during the scenes. If they should ever be gagged, they will use a color system where red means complete stop, yellow means check up, and green means everything’s fine. One finger, knock, or tap is red; two is for yellow; and three is for green. Like this. Colors, baby girl,” she addressed me. I nudged her three times. “Is that clear to everyone?”

More hums.

“Downstairs is where the playroom is,” Hotch explained. “Down there, you’ll find shelves, drawers, and other storage devices used to hold all of the toys and equipment we own for scenes. The bottom drawer of the dresser on the left side of the bed is off limits. Y/N has expressed that they have no interest in using punishment toys— found in that drawer— but that includes the paddles on the wall. If you see paddles, shockers, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, or clothes pins, do not touch them. Y/N has claimed this as their limit. Nipple clamps, however, are still allowed.”

Emily continued. “BDSM is encouraged. Restraints, gags, blindfolds, degradation, edging, ruined orgasms, forced orgasms. spanking, and choking are all allowed. Extreme breath play is not allowed.”

“We ask that the men use condoms. Y/N wants the women to know that they are allowed to use the fake cum for the strap ons, if they so choose.”

“We discussed potential roleplay scenarios that were requested. Reid, consensual non consensual is okay.”

My eyes widened. Reid was the one who requested that? I was shocked. I didn’t think he had it in him to be so rough. There was so much I didn’t know about him, it seemed.

“Rossi,” Emily continued, “your teacher roleplay scenario is also okay. If you choose to perform this scene, make it clear to the others in the group what it is you’re doing. Y/N’s also specified that in this roleplay scenario, they trust Rossi to lightly use a flogger. No one else, though.”

“Anal and double penetration are not allowed,” Hotch said. “If anyone tries it, they will be asked to leave.”

“Part of the degradation kink is to use names like slut, whore, cunt— sometimes used specifically as ‘edge’ or ‘cum slut’, ‘needy whore’, ‘broken cunt’, and so on. These names are all allowed. If you find that you are uncomfortable with degrading them in this way, they also like baby, baby girl, and princess. They enjoy addressing their dominants with titles. For instance, Hotch uses Sir, and I use Mistress. Now, we’re not saying you have to address us with these titles, but you may. The real point is that Y/N would like to know how they should address each of you. Again, titles are up to you. You don’t have to have one. Using your name is fine, if that’s what you prefer. But you need to tell us, and then they’ll be tested as we start. Rossi, we’ll start with you.”

He sighed to hide his anticipation. “Master.”

“Color,” Emily ordered me. I nudged her three times. “Morgan.”

“Daddy.”

“Color.” I bit my lip and nudged green again. “Garcia.”

“Just Penelope.”

“JJ.”

“I—“ She hesitated. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to,” Hotch reminded her.

“I want to,” she clarified, “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, there’s Mistress, like me, Ma’am, Mommy— girls can also use Daddy and Sir. It’s whatever you want.”

JJ still hesitated for a moment. “Um… Ma’am…”

“Color, baby girl,” Emily reached down to caress my cheek. I nuzzled my cheek into her palm three times. “Reid.”

“Mister S,” he answered.

Emily asked me for Colors again, to which I gave her green. “You may look up now, baby girl.”

I peeled my eyes away from the carpet, slowly trailing my way up to get a good look at everyone sitting on the couches across from us. I could see that Morgan and Reid were already hard and squirming, whereas Rossi still had his nonchalant demeanor plastered to his behavior, and JJ was still watching Emily intently, and Garcia was holding onto Morgan.

“Go one by one, and address them,” Emily ordered me.

I made eye contact with Rossi, “Master.” Morgan, “Daddy.” He cleared his throat and squirmed more. Garcia smiled at me. “Penelope.” JJ, “Ma’am.” Reid, “Sir.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Emily fisted my hair in her hand and pulled my head back so I was looking up at her and Hotch. “And us, slut.”

I gulped. “Mistress and Sir.”

She let go of me roughly. “Good girl.”

“Again,” Hotch said to the team, “water and snacks in the kitchen, the table on the patio, and Emily and I can arrange early rides home if anyone needs it.”

“I’ll go with them downstairs first,” Emily said to Hotch. He nodded. “Come on, baby girl.” She held her hand out for me. I carefully accepted and let her pull me to my feet, then start leading me to the basement door. Silently, we made our way down to the playroom. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” I did as I was told. “You’re still okay?”

I nodded.

“Speak when spoken to, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You’ll tell me or Hotch if something’s wrong?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl. Lay back and wait.”

I let out a shaky breath as I moved back onto the middle of the bed, then laid down until my head hit the pillows.

-----------

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel @peggy1999 @marvelismylifffe @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn

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unecoccinellenoire · 3 years

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you’re still doing the prompts but could I suggest maybe an au of Freaky Friday where maybe it was Nathalie and Gabriel that swapped please?

Nathalie and Gabriel?

Now that would be a mess. But maybe actually one I can work with so let have a speedrun of that scenario

Gabriel stared up at his own face, “Why would it be an akuma?”

“I don’t know,” Nathalie hissed back at him, and from the disgruntlement that passed over her face when she spoke she was as thrown at how weird she sounded as him as he was, “but there aren’t exactly many other sources of random magical powers in Paris are there?”

“There’s Ladybug.”

“This doesn't fit in with any of the Miraculous we know about.”

“Well it wasn't an akuma.”

“What was it then?”

“Us!” Duusu trilled suddenly appearing from wherever the Kwami had been.

“Duusu,” Nooroo whimpered from behind his head, and really what was it about Nathalie’s hair that made it a magnet for Kwami’s.

Though his irritation gave way to anger as he realised, “wait, was this you?”

Then a knock at the door froze all of them, “Father? Um, I haven't seen Nathalie this morning so I'm just going to go to school.”

He opened his mouth to talk but Nathalie spoke first calling out to the door, “She's not feeling well. She’ll email you your schedule later.”

……......

“An act of selfless love?” Nathalie said, “Alright. I can work with that, Duusu spread my feathers.”

He couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of himself blue and pink-eyed, and reached out to his face as if to check it was real. He wasn't sure the hair was a fantastic look but at least, “I'm thankful I'm not in your dress. I don’t think I’d pull it off.”

Nathalie flushed, and looked down, “I hadn’t even really thought. We’ll have to thank Duusu I guess.”

“I think you contributed,” he ran his eye over the tailcoat and slim trousers, “I can see Mayura in it. And your elegance.”

“My,” she blinked, “Thank you sir.”

“So what's your plan then?”

“The same as it's always been.”

“We can't make waste the Wish on fixing this,” and if they were using their original plan then as distracting as the image of Emilie and Nathalie together was, he could hardly just explain to his wife than he and his assistant had switched bodies and expect her to be ok with that, “we need it for Emilie.”

“I know,” Nathalie said, “which is why we get Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous, and then I make the wish to sacrifice myself for Emilie. That should work shouldn’t it? I know it wouldn’t be completely selfless but,”

“What?” The room felt suffocating and hot, and he thought he might faint and he hoped this wasn’t what Nathalie felt like all the time because of damage from the Peacock Miraculous. “That’s, how, what about that wouldn’t be selfless.”

“I wouldn’t be in pain.” Nathalie said, and didn’t seem to realise how her words felt like stab wounds, “and you’d be the one dealing with all the mess afterward; explaining my death, explaining it all to Emilie, explaining it all to Adrien. And I’d know you were happy and I wouldn’t have to,” she stopped herself, “it doesn’t matter. I think it would still work.”

“We’re not doing that. I’m not killing you because our blasted Kwamis have betrayed us.”

“We are forcing them to work against their natures.”

“You really think Duusu has a problem with what we’re doing?” He should have seen Nooroo’s treachery coming but Duusu’s did surprise him.

“No,” she exhaled, “I don’t think that’s where Duusu’s actions are coming from. Duusu has a,” she bit her lip in thought, “different way of looking at the world. I wouldn’t advise asking for my kwami’s reasons. But it doesn’t matter. This doesn’t change anything.”

She looked as if what she meant was obvious when it very much was not. “It does. This was never the plan.”

“I thought you were willing to do anything for her?”

“Not that.” He pressed his fingers to his temples, “Nathalie if I was willing to throw your life away I’d have commanded you to wear that Miraculous from day one. I have never wanted to hurt you, and I can’t lose you too, you’re the only thing that gets me through each day.”

“You wouldn’t be losing me too, you’d have her back.”

“It’s too heavy a price,” Nathalie was, she was his friend and his certainty and he didn’t know how he could look himself in the mirror, could look Emilie in the eyes, if he killed her, “We not doing that.”

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” Nooroo said, “it has to be the elder of you that performs the selfless act of love.”

He’d never seen what horror looked like on his own face, and even blue it was his own face, until that moment.

…......

“I’ve got it,” Gabriel reached forward and pulled the Miraculous off her, “You’re never using this again.”

He waited for this nightmare to be over, but apart from her transformation falling from him-as-Mayura to him-as-himself nothing happened.

It should have worked. He’d put Nathalie ahead of his goals. Ahead of Emilie. Shouldn’t that have solved the whole thing?

“You’re said that before sir,” Nathalie said.

If he wasn’t in her body, and overly aware of how he could damage it, then he’d have punched a wall. Stupid past him screwing it up for all of them. And he’d always known letting Nathalie use that Miraculous was a mistake.

……….

“We’re probably going to have to get dressed at some point,” Nathalie said, looking as if she’d stepped in something distasteful, “you’ve a zoom meeting later. I guess it’s lucky we were swapped with each other, so we can keep the business going.”

Lucky was not what Gabriel would call the situation at all especially when, “I can’t just undress you.”

She was his assistant. It was wrong for him to know what she looked like under her clothes in any more exactness than her measurements. And the longer he was in her body the harder it was going to be not to ever look.

His body must have blushed more today than it ever had before, as Nathalie said, “Maybe just. Don’t shower today.”

“I wasn’t going to,” otherwise he’d actually be touching her and that was wrong wrong wrong, “I will try and respect your privacy Nathalie.”

“I know you would,” she said looking at him with a trust he wasn’t sure he’d earnt, “you dress models all the time, this isn’t any different. OK, I admit I’m not model but I trust you to be professional about this.”

“You’re pretty enough to model,”

She blinked, “I don’t think I can agree but thank you. And, I’ll do my best to give you your privacy too.”

“I never expected otherwise,” Nathalie was always professional, “I know I can trust you.”

“Thank you sir,” she said before a look of sheer horror crossed her face, “oh god, I’m going to have to go to the loo as you.”

He felt a funny warmth in his stomach. “We’ll have to fix this quickly then.”

“Yes,” said Nathalie but she didn’t look any more convinced than before.

………

“I’ve another idea,” he said, and reached up to cup his own face, and tried to ignore how disconcerting the whole situation was he pressed his lips to hers or his depending on how one considered it.

Nathalie pulled away immediately, stumbling a few steps back, “What on earth was that?”

From the look of her she seemed to think he had some weird obsession with himself so he rushed to clarify. “I thought, you know, it worked for the heroes before to break the effects of akumas?”

“Sir,” she was speaking to him very slowly like he was a child, and it sounded more condescending in his own voice, “You’re not in love with me. So that wouldn’t work.”

Her dismissal of him yet again annoyed him. He was going to fix this. And he was going to get Nathalie’s respect back.

…………

“I’m going to Adrien’s fencing match,” Nathalie announced.

“What? Why?”

“I promised him I would. It’s in the schedule.”

“For Nathalie.”

“I cleared yours too sir. You can come with us if you want.”

“I need to work out how to solve this not waste time placating Adrien. You go if you want.”

“I will.”

As he watched Adrien’s joyful smile on seeing what he thought was his father he realised uncomfortably that Adrien hadn’t smiled like that at him in he didn’t know how long.

Perhaps he could spare Adrien some more time.

……….

“I’ve come to a decision,” Gabriel announced.

“Yes?” Nathalie asked with a raised eyebrow, “Have you found a way to fix this sir?”

“What? No. I’m going to invent a better bra. I never realised it but there’s so many issues with current designs, the straps keep falling down, and the underwire is uncomfortable and,”

“Have you somehow got it on wrong? It’s never bothered me.”

“How would I have got it on wrong? I’m not stupid.” Although admittedly Nathalie probably adjusted herself more than Gabriel felt comfortable doing with his assistant’s body.

Nathalie frowned, and he almost mirrored her, he hadn’t realised he always looked this severe. “Maybe you just have a lower discomfort threshold than me sir.”

“That does seem to be the case yes,” because he’s struggling to get through the door past the aches and exhaustion that Nathalie has apparently been lying about not feeling.

…………

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do Nathalie,” he said as he relaxed back against her after she caught him after another coughing fit. He’d always felt utterly insufficient for what he could do for her afterwards and no seeing it he felt almost more so.

“We’ll fix this somehow sir,” she said, “I’m sorry it was me. I know if it had been Adrien or someone else you cared for this would have been much easier.”

He turned around, “What are you talking about? I can’t see how that would be easier at all.”

Because there was an obvious thing he could do to fix this at least and he couldn’t think what would be obvious in Adrien’s case.

Not that he could do the obvious thing so knowing it didn’t really help but….

…………..

Because he can’t pretend the toll this is taking on her isn’t obvious now. Not when he’s the one feeling it.

And the thing is. It’s not all the Peacock Miraculous either. If either of them could break this spell then Nathalie would have already done it a hundred times over.

She’s ready to lay down her life for him. She’s already risked her health and her freedom. This isn’t her job.

This is him being unfair.

And he’s never cared much for fairness. After all. Life isn’t. But it feels different with Nathalie. It rankles. He doesn’t want to be the one hurting her.

……………

“Are you going to send out an akuma sir?” Nathalie asked.

He shook his head, “Not like this.”

……………

He reached out to Emilie’s coffin and tried to ignore how much higher it was.

“I’m sorry Em,” he said, “I think I might be a very selfish man. Can you forgive me?”

Are you alive?

Is this a betrayal?

Or is it just recognising reality?

…………

“Adrien,” he said and his son looks up with worry for whatever Nathalie’s going to say he’s forgotten but there’s affection too, and there’s nothing he can say actually. Not as Nathalie. Not when he knows the opinions on the matter he’s wrongly allowed his son to have. “Don’t worry.”

Though if he does this then it’s not so wrongly.

………..

He still doesn’t like Adrien’s friends but as Nathalie he sees them more often and as he sees how his son changes as he sees how he becomes more like Emilie at her very best he has to revaluate some of the choices they’re made, and whether they’ve been stifling certain talents of Adrien’s.

………..

Nathalie didn’t say anything when he sees him transformed, but her eyes say it all.

“I thought it was quite striking,” he said of the Butterfly wing dress, wrapped around her body he was wearing.

“No,” she said, “it is sir, I’m just not sure it looks very suitable for fighting.”

“It’s not.” He agreed, but I’m not planning to fight. Give me your Miraculous Nathalie. I’m going to akumatise myself again.”

“With both of them?”

“No,” he laughed, “but I’ll want it after and I don’t want to fight you.”

“Sir,” Nathalie asked, “What are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

And she does.

………..

He felt it the moment the spell breaks. True his akumatised form is androgynous compared to his transformation under the Butterfly Miraculous’ powers but he’d known it has changed nonetheless.

And then Ladybug purified his akuma and he could see it has.

“M.Agreste?” Ladybug asked, “How did you get Hawk Moth and Mayura’s Miraculous?”

“I don’t know,” he said giving thanks for the effects of his akumas, “I don’t remember anything.”

Chat Noir was looking at him oddly, “did you fight Hawk Moth?”

“I think,” he said deciding he could afford this much to avoid the embarrassment of apparently losing to himself, “this was what Hawk Moth wanted me to do.”

……….

Nathalie greeted him at the door, “Are you alright?”

“Never better.” He confirmed.

She pulled him in shutting the door behind him, “You gave up.”

“I did.”

“It fixed us.”

“It did.”

“Then,” she still looked shell-shocked, “that means, you gave up for me?”

“It wasn’t entirely selfless,” he said, “I’m rather glad it worked despite that but Nooroo thought it would. But, I’m not sure I’m ready to confront what all of that means. Not while Emilie’s still,”

“I’ll be here when you are,” she said with a grounding clasp of her hand around his arm.

#gabenath #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #fanfic #freaky friday au #bodyswap AU #prompt fic #short fic

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Text

Peace Is Momentary

Summary: soulmate!au where your soulmate will appear to you in a time of need. Spencer’s gone 20 years without meeting his; so has y/n. What will happen when fate finally connects them together?

Warnings: angst if you squint, nothing else really

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: this might become a series if people like it enough!! we’ll see ;)

Spencer knows there’s a chance he’ll never meet his soulmate. He knows the statistics, he’s done the research. Yet, he always feels a little bit better at the thought that someone was made just for him, someone who’ll stay with him through it all.

Of course, he assumed he would have found his soulmate much earlier in life. Most people found theirs when they were as young as 16, though always in the same fashion. Spencer was turning 22, 6 years older than the average age of finding your one true love.

Your soulmate would come to you in a time when you need them the most; when your soul calls out to its other half in a cry for help.

Every time Spencer broke down or cried, whether it be over a case at work, his mother’s condition, or quite literally anything else, he prayed that his soulmate would magically appear in front of him. Alas, the cards simply haven’t been in his favor.

Unknown to Reid, about 20 minutes away, you were in the exact same predicament. All of your life, you had waited to find your soulmate. When your parents passed in your high school years, there was a small part of you that was hoping you would find your soulmate right then and there. That... didn’t exactly work out.

You had moved in with your aunt and uncle in a different city and had turned into the epitome of a rebellious child. You wore clothes your modest family would have a heart attack upon seeing, listened to music the church choir you were a part of would scoff at. However, if there was one thing you were good at, it was school.

You didn’t have a ton of money growing up, so you worked harder than anyone you knew to get scholarships to college. You juggled a full time job at your local coffee shop while still in school to get your engineering degree, and boy was it tiring.

“Excuse me lady? I’ve been waiting for 10 fucking minutes. What have I got to do to get a coffee already?” A man with a thick (Boston?) accent leered at you. You groaned internally, proceeding to plaster a much too bright smile on your face in an attempt to hide your obvious disdain for him.

“So sorry sir! Your cold brew will be coming right up,” you exclaimed cheerily, though you felt anything but. Turning away from him, you let your hands fly over the coffee machine to make a drink you’ve made a thousand times over. Your mind starts to wander as you brew the espresso. Did you even have a soulmate? What if they hate you? What if they’re dead? What if-

Your thoughts were cut short as the espresso machine beeps, jolting you back to reality. You quickly finish off the cup, gratefully sliding it across the bar to the rude man waiting close by. You turned around and caught your coworker’s bemused expression; you were too tired to complain.

Spencer frowned as he gazed at the crime scene photos. What wasn’t clicking?

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Emily’s heels clacking on the linoleum floor. He turned with his chin resting on his hand to see her wearing a pitying look on her face. In one hand, she held a cup of coffee.

He reached out, pointing to the styrofoam cup. “Is that for me?” Spencer asked, secretly hoping it wasn’t so he could get some rest.

Thankfully, Emily shook her head. “No, Reid.” She sighed, looking back up at him sadly. “Listen, I know you really want to solve this case. Don’t get me wrong, we all do. But you’ve been awake for what? 30 hours straight? You might be a genius but even Einstein needed rest,” she finished. Before Reid could protest, she lifted a hand. “Go back to your hotel room and sleep. That’s a direct order from Hotch.”

Spencer frowned unhappily at the brunette in front of him, but he knew when the conversation was over. Grabbing some files he was fully planning to mull over on the comfort of his stiff hotel mattress, he brushed past Emily and headed towards his car.

After a long shift, you groaned as you pushed open the door to your tiny apartment. Immediately, you stripped off your clothes and headed straight for the shower in an attempt to scrub off the now nauseating scent of coffee.

Emerging 20 minutes later with bright red and freshly exfoliated skin, you felt like you were about to collapse at any second. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

Reid sat on the bed, papers and crime scene photos splayed out in front of him. The heels of his hands dug into his eyes as he tried to prevent tears from running down his unshaven cheeks.

You wake with a start, sweating slightly. Looking around, you frown. This isn’t your hotel room, you think to yourself, confused. You gasped when you noticed a man sitting on the bed, looking like he hadn’t slept in months. His clothes were misshapen, hair messy and clearly not brushed. He was boyishly handsome, you decided with a satisfied nod.

The gasp you let out caused him to look up; you both realized what was happening at the same moment.

“You’re my soulmate,” Spencer breathed out, at the same time you muttered “Oh my fucking god.”

For a few more moments, both stared at each other, unsure how to act and what to do.

Reid made the first move, awkwardly scooting over slightly and clearing his throat, patting the now empty space next to him.

You quietly shuffled over, perching politely on the edge of the bed.

“So um... where are you right now?” You offered, genuinely curious as to why he was in a hotel room in seemingly the middle of nowhere.

Spencer laughed. “I uh- I guess it’s a long story,” his voice trailed off slightly as he noticed the look you gave him, the one that said Really?. “I guess that was a stupid thing to say,” he mumbled.

You laughed, hitting his arm gently. “Don’t worry about it. For now, we have all the time in the world.”

And so the night progressed; Reid told you all about working at the BAU and you told him all about, well, working at a coffee shop. You quickly found out Spencer was a literal genius, and you, completely serious of course, asked if he would do all your homework for you. (Spoiler alert: he said no because it “goes against his morals”. What does that even mean???)

You could feel yourself fading as Spencer got happier and happier. You both seemed to realize you didn’t have much time left. You grabbed his hand, staring deep into his eyes. You could feel yourself leaning in, Reid too-

“Wait!” You exclaimed, and the two of you jumped apart. “What’s your name?” You asked breathlessly.

“Oh!” He replied, seemingly surprised that you two had never exchanged names. What he didn’t know, however, was that you were slipping away from him much faster than either of you could have realized. “It’s Sp-“

And just like that, you were gone. You woke up in your own bed to find it was morning, sunlight streaming through your windows. Racking your brain, you tried to remember what he said his name was. Unfortunately, all you could remember was the short 2 letters you heard before you vanished. He hadn’t even gotten your name! How was he supposed to find you now?

Across the country, Spencer woke up with his head pounding. Bleary eyed, he tried to make sense of what just happened. He met his soulmate, then lost her just as fast. He didn’t even get her name!, Reid kicked himself.

The next few days for the both of you seemed like hell. You found out it was practically impossible to find records of government employees, especially from divisions like the BAU. You grew increasingly frustrated while scouring through database after database.

Spencer had immediately called Garcia, but made her swear to keep it a secret. He attempted to give her an idea of what you looked like, only to hear the disappointed sound of Penelope’s voice letting him know that she had a list of about 10,000 people who fit the description. Of course, knowing Penelope, no secret ever stayed a secret for long. No more than a few hours later he was met with a chorus of congratulations from his fellow colleagues, including Morgan’s “I knew you had it in you!”, which was met with a sad frown as Spencer explained the unlucky situation.

Unfortunately, nothing much happened after that. You gave up your search on this mystery man, he did the same. Every day, however, you both woke up and hoped today would be that one special day where they found each other again. Every day, they were met with another heart wrenching disappointment, until one fateful afternoon.

Your back ached as you scrubbed down the counter for what felt like the thousandth time that day. It had been a few years since what you liked to call “the incident”, and you liked to keep it out of your head at this point. You were now in grad school, in a different city. You still worked at a coffee shop, though this one was much more busy and frankly much more stressful.

You stretched slightly, pulling your arms up in the air as you readjusted your torso. You turned when you heard your coworker call your name; he was going to take a break. You nodded at him, letting him know you would take over for him.

There was a lull in the customers in the shop, which made sense considering it was 2:00 on a Tuesday afternoon.

You decided to make the most of the break and started to clean the espresso machine in front of you. As you grabbed a dish cloth from the sink, you heard bells in the doorway tinkle slightly as the door was pushed open.

You looked up with your customer service grin automatically painted on, ready to greet the customer. The welcome died on your lips, however, as you realized who it was. It was him.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized something else; he was kissing a girl who was definitely not you.

You forced yourself to walk over to the cash register, clearing your throat to break the intense lip-locking session apart. A faint look of annoyance crossed Spencer’s face as he looked up at who interrupted them.

His first reaction was exactly what you thought it would be. He froze slightly, then slowly walked up to the register with what looked like a death grip on his (girlfriend’s?) hand.

Though it was the girl who spoke, you found your attention kept flitting to the man next to her. You couldn’t tell if she was oblivious, or just didn’t care.

He had... changed to say the least. Stubble covered the bottom portion of his face, and his hair had grown out. His cheekbones looked more defined, and he walked with an aura of confidence that he didn’t have before. Still, you had to admit he looked very handsome.

You were shaken out of your stupor when you felt the gaze of the girl. She looked at you with, was that impatience? You asked for her payment and her name, Stacy, noting it down on both cups before you took her credit card.

You hurried around behind the bar in an attempt to give them the drinks as quickly as possible and get them to leave. How were you supposed to talk to him now? He literally has a girlfriend!

You finished making the two coffees and set them on the counter, calling out her name to let her know the drinks were ready.

“One nitro cold brew for you, and one iced vanilla latte for him,” you handed over the drinks directly to each of them, making a point to shift Spencer’s drink slightly, causing him to look down. He caught your drift as he noticed a little extra writing underneath Stacy’s name.

His girlfriend grabbed his hand, throwing a quick and insincere “thank you!” over her shoulder at you as they left the store. You slumped against the sink, grabbing the countertop with your hands. What in Gods’ green Earth was this?

Outside, Spencer finally got the chance to look at the cup. He smiled as he read what you had scribbled on there.

Underneath your phone number, you had written, “It’s a really long story but I hope you have the time. Let’s talk soon?”

It was nearing 9 pm when you were starting to lose all hope. What if you made a mistake, and that wasn’t actually your soulmate? You shoved a pillow over your face with irritation and groaned, collapsing onto the sofa next to your phone. As you lay in silence, you heard a noise. Your phone was vibrating.

Sitting up quickly, you picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You asked breathlessly.

A familiar amused chuckle rang on the other end of the line.

“Hi, soulmate.”

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dollfaced-erin · 3 years

Text

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: this chapter may be a little gory for some people. It contains lots of blood and angst and tears, broken bones, and the like. If you are uncomfortable with it, you can read until bold words after the cut. That’s when the gore starts. Then it ends at the highlighted, bold word, you got me?

Present Sebastian means the adult Sebastian, orite? In this time frame, everyone will be aged down, so here’s a headcanon of their ages. All the ages of bachelors and bachelorettes have been taken into account by their appearance, current height, personality and maturity.

(Y/n) and Abby: 6 years old (currently 23) Sebastian: 8 years old (currently 25) Sam: 7 years old (currently 24) Penny: 7 years old (currently 24) Maru: 3 years old (currently 21) Emily: 9 years old (currently 26) Haley: 7 years old (currently 24)

Lewis, Evelyn and George: mid Forties Robin, Demetrius, Caroline, Jodi, Pierre, Gus: late twenties to early thirties Pam, Marnie: late thirties

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Where am I?’ Sebastian wondered to himself. It was bright all around him, but it was quite cold. He looked around him, trying to figure out where he was.

‘The bus stop?’ he concluded as his eyes landed on the meter that stood at the side of the road. The foliage around him was somewhat similar to what it was now, but the trees were bare of their leaves and if they did bear any, they were orange and yellow.

But he knew this wasn’t in present time.

The bus that stood idle on the tar road was gone, most probably still up and running in this time frame. But if it was, then, this must be pretty far back. But when exactly was th--

“Sebby! Wait up!” his train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a little girl. Instinctively, Sebastian turned his head around, accustomed to the nickname he had been called by people closest to him.

But it wasn’t regarded to him, well....not the him now.

A young black haired boy in a dark colored, sleeveless hoodie was in his sight, despite the cold autumn wind, was running towards him. He flinched, as if preparing for the impact from collision.

But it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes and chuckled to himself. The boy had run through him, telling him that this wasn’t reality, despite how real it looked.

He turned to see a little boy, before his right hand unconsciously grabbed his chest. Right above where his heart was. It hurt. But why? Was it this child? The child that was without a doubt, him?

The same thing happened when (Y/n) first moved here. The same feeling before his vision temporarily swapped with an old, worn-out memory, too muddled for him to even identify who was who in it. And suddenly he had a small horrible feeling in his chest.

He decided it was nothing though, and just shrugged it off.

The boy turned around, his bright black eyes glimmering with joy and innocence of a child as a large smile had taped itself permanently onto his face.

“Abby! _____!” Wait, what was that? He heard Abigail’s nickname, but the next was just plain white noise. And all noise disappeared when her name was spoken. As if a chunk of sound was extracted from a record and was left empty before playing the next part, leaving it incomplete.

But before he could think any further, two more figures came running over, hand in hand. Two little girls. A girl with wavy chestnut hair in a frilly blue dress and another with long (h/c), hair reaching her waist who wore a white turtle neck and (f/c) cotton skirt with flower patterns.

“What are we going to play today?” the (h/c)-haired girl asked, hand still lingering in the girl who is apparently Abigail’s past self. Young Sebastian thought, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Let’s play tag!” he suggested, but Abby refused.

“No! It’s no fun with three people!” Abby retorted, sticking her tongue out. The other girl remained silent, as if she were thinking up a better solution.

“Well, Sebby, if you still want to play tag, lets invite the others, then! At least, if it’s four people or more, it would be more fun!” she offered, her sweet voice sounding outstandingly familiar.

Sebastian had no idea why this girl was radiating a strong sense of nostalgia. And he was heavily confused why he had proposed the game of tag. For as long as he remembered, he hated the game tag. All this was surely just a dream.

“Okay then,” Abigail agreed. “Let’s bring Emily and Haley and Penny and Sam, then!” she said happily, looking at the other two who nodded their heads.

“Abby, since you suggested Penny and Sam, you go get them!” Sebby said. But Abby refused, stomping her small foot on the ground. “No! Then _____ has to come with me!” she protested, grabbing hold of the confused girl’s hand.

“No!” Sebby said, grabbing the other (s/c) hand. “She stays with me!” he shouted back, tugging her arm. “_____! You’re staying with me, right?!” he asked, but Abby shouted back. “No! She’s coming with me, right? _____?!”

“I’ll go with Abby! Then, I’ll come back Sebby! How about that?” she asked, “I’m still gonna come back to you anyway!” the little girl spoke boldly, making past and present Sebastian’s face redden. Who was this little girl?! Why is she so determined? Why does this feel so familiar? It was starting to mess with him. As if the white noise whenever the little girl’s name was spoken wasn’t already bothering enough.

“Fine! You two better come back, got it?!” Sebby gave in, letting go of the small wrist with a red face. Sebastian chuckled. His imaginary younger self had a crush on this unknown girl? This dream really was something.

Or so he thought.

Abby grabbed little _____’s hand, as the two departed. As they were out of sight, Sebastian heard his younger self say, “I wanted to tell her something. And this was her last day here! Why does she stick to Abby so much?!” he grumbled, kicking a nearby stump. Sebastian chuckled. Was this dream to fulfil his unfulfilling childhood?

Cliche. A young boy wanting to confess to his childhood crush that was going to move. But was she really a citizen here in Pelican Town? Abigail told him, well, Sam, at the Saloon, that there was a little girl that visited during a certain season. Was this it?

Moments later, the two came back with another four in tow. Young Sammy, Haley, Emily and Penny. And the game of tag began.

“Remember! Avoid the road!” was the only rule little Abby stated before all of them scampered around, avoiding the first person tagged. Little Sammy.

The game went on, each child successfully tagging another. Sammy, Abby, then _____, Sebby, _____again, Penny, Emily, Abby, Haley, Sammy, Haley and the list kept going on.

Until Sebby was tagged again by Abby, he ran to tag someone else. Of course, it was common sense to avoid everyone, right? And little Sebby was chasing the closest person to him, their blonde blue eyed boy, little Sammy.

Sammy was cornered and the only way he wanted to evade the dark haired boy’s attack was to cross the road, even though it was considered out of bounds. He ran and crossed the road, ignoring all the cries and shouts from his friends and stood triumphantly on the other side.

Sebby wasn’t about to give up though. He was going to chase Sammy and tag him next. So the black haired boy ran right after him. But from all the noise and excitement, he never realized an incoming vehicle from the tunnel. And Sebastian had heard it even when Sam was crossing.

Sebastian felt himself calling out his own name, repeating the same words, ‘No’, as if his younger self could hear it. Tears began running down his face for no apparent reason. His chest hurt so much, despite not knowing why. This was bad. The horrible he shrugged off earlier was growing in him rapidly.

~Something bad was going to happen.

Despite all the shouts, little Sebby ran to cross the road, before a large blue lorry entered his sight. He stopped in his tracks, too afraid to move. His black eyes watching as the large vehicle was going to hit him.

Everything happened so fast.

“SEBASTIAN!”

Sebastian felt a hard push in the back and he stumbled to the ground.

Screeching tires. Panicked yells. Scrambling on the grass. A loud colliding sound between metal and something hard. A dull, sickening thump on the ground. Horrified screams and wails.

He remembers everything. Everything came back to him in that small instance. Despite looking at the ground, he can see everything that happened. He lifted his head, wishing that what he’s about to witness wasn’t what he hoped to be.

“No...no it can’t be! NO!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet as more tears ran down.

The children around him were screaming, crying, wailing, in fright, horror, sadness, pain.

For the one that laid still on the tar road.

A pool of blood circled the head of the young child, it’s long (h/c) strands mercilessly disheveled and painted in the warm liquid beneath, staining the white shirt she wore. Her clothing was slightly torn and dirty from rolling on the ground, but that didn’t conceal the horrifying angle her right arm was.

Her left side was vulnerable to the lorry, but when she rolled, she used her right arm to stop herself. And that horribly failed. Her shoulder was completely shattered, but bits of bone were poking out of the tender flesh and white cloth. Her face wasn’t visible. But he knew there was a horrible gash across her forehead.

The children were calling her name out repeatedly, running over to their fallen friend. Calling her name to get her to respond. Kneeling by her side as the lorry driver came running out. The cries of the children bringing attention to the townspeople. All of them came running to see the commotion.

“No....” Sebastian whispered once more, tears endlessly dripping from his eyes. “No! No! No!” he stood there, too shocked to even move. What was all this?! What was happening?! What was--

“(Y/N)!!”

He shot up, sitting up, tears running down his face from the dream. He was in the safety of his dark basement. He looked at the time. 2 AM. But he knew it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A trauma that left him trembling for years. That locked itself up in his mind. Too shocked to remember.

The dreams before this were just snippets and altered versions of the real event. The more twisted, but safer version that never disrupted or triggered his memory in any form.

He remembered everything that happened.

When he ran to chase Sam, he froze in the middle of the road. Young (Y/n) moved fast enough to push him out of the road. But in exchange, she got herself hit. And that horrible event brought despair upon the children, to the point where they grew up completely opposite of what they were during children. Closed off to their memories due to trauma, unnerving and odd feelings towards childish things like the game tag.

He remembered all the adults that rounded them. First it was Jodi and Caroline who were chatting in the town square and heard the collision. Then, it was Robin who was taking a break from her blueprints. Being the adventurous and boisterous female she was, she immediately bolted down the mountain, through the Farm.

She called out the old man that resided there, asking about her child and his grandchild before the two ran off to the bus stop. Evelyn with George outside together on the bridge near the empty lot Joja was on now. Even George was worried, so he asked Evelyn to push him over.

Demetrius had to stay with Maru since he saw his wife bolt in front of the house in a hurry and panic. Lewis was out tending his garden when he heard the shrill screams.

All the adults began to run over and Lewis immediately dialed the ambulance when he arrived. All of them were shocked, shook by the gruesome scene before them. But only (Y/n)’s grandfather didn’t freeze in place. Instead, he ran straight to his beloved granddaughter.

The old man broke down crying, holding the limp left hand of his precious but unconscious little girl, too afraid to move her. Robin next to him, grabbing her son, checking over for injuries before pulling him to her chest, weeping silently from worry and sadness. Pained, from the broken shouts of her son who still scream the little girl’s name before evidently breaking down.

Jodi stood pale before bolting over when she heard her son’s cries pulling him into her arms. Caroline and Pierre cradled little Abby in their arms, shutting her eyes as she continued to weep on their embrace, her throat too hoarse and dry to call out her friends name anymore. Emily and Haley’s parents turned their children’s head away from the bloodbath scene, the image of the limp girl burned permanently into their memory core. Pam ran to Penny, who refused to turn away from her friend, screaming out her name none stop between her wails.

All of it returned to him. The most impacted one, was undoubtedly him. The one he loved being run over from trying to save him. She was taken away by the ambulance and he was brought along with the rest for a check up.

It was blurry when they had the check up, but they stayed the night. (Y/n) was wheeled into the ER and brought into the room when they were all fast asleep. Her head and arm were all wrapped out, her left ankle was bandaged.

When they woke up, (Y/n)’s parents had come and had a huge fight with her grandfather, his mother, Abby’s, Sam’s, all while cradling their unresponsive child in their arms.

Remembering all that in an instant took a heavy toll on Sebastian. His tears never stopped falling, and brought his knees to his face. He muffled his sobs that were filled with guilt and pain, but relief that the girl was still alive, and came back like she promised.

He had to make things right.

But with the way he is now, he’s a little uncertain how to approach her. And the crush thing was long gone. Perhaps already replaced with Abigail over the emptiness.

Maybe he should just stay quite and let time work its wonders.

#stardew-valley-x-reader #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #sebastian (stardew valley)#sebastian x reader #sebastianxreader #reader insert #female farmer #stardew sebastian

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

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Player 3 Has Entered The Game... (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Anonymous Request: comedic/fluffy alex morgan one where she goes into labor and r is absolutely freaking out? kudos if she passes out when she accidentally sees alex's cooch mid-birth

This was certainly a trip, I hope you guys enjoy, and crack up as much as I did while writing it.

“NO! NO! HOLD IT IN!” You yell, flailing your arms and Alex scoffs.

“MY WATER BROKE Y/N I CAN’T HOLD THE BABY BACK!” She cries out in pain and that seemingly brings you out of your panic attack.

“Okay. Okay. Okay. OKAY.” You yell running around crazily.

Alex snarls angrily.

“GODDAMN IT Y/N! STOP FREAKING OUT AND HELP ME!”

"I'm sorry. I’m sorry. Okay.” You swallow hard, helping Alex to her feet as you grab the keys immediately calling Ali and Ashlyn.

Ashlyn answers after the first ring.

“Hey what’s-

“BABY. COMING, RIGHT NOW.” You screech the goalie squealing loudly.

“YEAH WE GONNA BE AUNTS BITCHHHH.” She yells, the sound of rustling on the other end of the phone before you hear Ali’s voice.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital how is-

Alex lets out a scream and you yell too, the pregnant woman turning to you with wide eyes.

“Why the fuck are you screaming!?” She asks and you shrug, jumping into the driver’s seat.

“I DON’T KNOW.” You yell, slamming on the gas and speeding down the road, completely forgetting you were on the phone with Ali, the woman hanging up and grabbing her wife to head to the hospital.

***

The ride to the hospital is short, though it feels like literal hours before you’re finally squeaking to a halt and running into the emergency room.

“HELP. WIFE. BABY. CAR.” Is all you get out before a nurse is charging towards you, wheelchair in front of her.

You chase after her, helping Alex into the wheelchair before you literally chuck your keys at Emily, who’d appeared out of literally nowhere.

“PARK THE CAR SONN!” You yell chasing after your wife, your heart racing in your chest as you sprint through the nearly shut doors and into the back where your wife is being wheeled away.

“We’re having a baby, we’re having a baby, we’re having a baby.” You repeat the mantra frantically as you watch the nurses getting Alex prepared.

Soon your OBGYN rushes in, a grin on her face.

“Are you read-

“NO, I’M NOT READY.” You yell loudly and the woman snickers.

“Be careful, we may have a fainter.” She laughs as she moves towards Alex, the woman crying out in pain.

“I’m not a fainter.” You mumble as you rush to her side, taking her hand, the woman immediately crushing your fingers in her fist.

“Y/N.” She cries and you frown, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Shhh, it’s going to be alright.” You whisper, nuzzling into the forehead, the woman, despite her pain smiling.

“We’re about to be mommies.” Alex sniffles, tears rolling down her cheeks and you can’t help but cry as well, wiping your tears away with your sleeve.

“You’re going to be the best mommy in the world.” You kiss her forehead playfully over and over again.

She giggles, sniffling, her face scrunching up in pain.

“This looks like it’s going to be a fast one, she’s ready.” The OBGYN grins as she gets Alex’s feet up in the stirrups, the woman grimacing, beads of sweat running down her face.

“Okay Alex, on the count of 3, I need you to push, okay?” She says and the woman nods, squeezing your hand tightly, teeth gritted.

“3, 2, 1... PUSH!” The OBGYN yells and the woman does, pushing as hard as she can.

“One more big push, I can see the head.” She grins and you, against your better judgement, look between your wife’s legs.

You feel yourself sway momentarily before you fall backwards, crashing to the floor with a dull thud.

“Told you we had a fainter!” The OB yells as she focuses on Alex.

“GODDAMN IT Y/N, THIS IS OUR FIRST KID AND I’LL BE DAMNED IF YOU MISS IT.” The soccer player screeches, surprising everyone in the room when she throws a nearby box of Kleenexes at you, smacking you right in the head.

It does the trick and you leap to your feet, glancing around.

“Did I miss it!?” You ask, stumbling towards the bed bleary eyed as you take your wife’s hand.

“I don’t feel well.” You mumble and Alex snarls.

“TRY PUSHING A BABY OUT OF YOUR VAGINA.” She yells and you wince.

“Alex, one big push!” The OB yells, Alex squeezing your hand as she pushes with all her might, the sound of your daughter’s cries filling the room.

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to Alex’s temple, the woman grinning.

“Think you can cut the cord without fainting?” The OB teases and you nod.

“Su-Sure.”

You smile lovingly down at your daughter, tears in your eyes as you cut the cord, the doctor handing Alex the little girl whose wailing cries are filling the small room, that is until she makes contact with Alex’s chest, the woman grinning as her daughter snuggles into her chest.

You sniffle, tears slipping down your cheeks as your daughter’s eyes Y/E/C orbs eventually flutter open, the baby girl looking up at Alex.

You chuckle, the baby now turning her attention to you, giving you the same curious look.

“She’s perfect.” You whisper, gently booping her on the nose, before she takes your finger.

You gently hold it out to her and slip it into her hand, her fingers curling around it.

You turn to Alex, her watery blue orbs locking with your Y/E/C orbs.

“Have you picked a name?” The OB asks and you smirk.

“Janice JR.” You smirk and Alex scoffs.

“Even though that would make Kelley INCREDIBLY happy... No...”

You chuckle as the little girl eventually falls asleep against Alex’s chest, her grip on your finger as tight as she can muster.

“So, name?” She asks again and you and Alex share a glance, both smiling as you turn to the nurse.

***

“Oh my godddddddddd.” Ashlyn sniffles as she walks into the room, pink baby bag in hand as she stares at the bed, your daughter fast asleep against Alex’s chest, the little girl a lot cleaner than she was not long ago.

“Meet Noah Morgan.” Alex grins, the little girl snuggling closer.

“I tried for Janice JR, but it was a no go.” You shrug.

Emily walks over to you, handing you your keys.

“What the hell happened to your face?” She asks, pointing to the cut on your forehead and you shrug.

“Uhh, nothing.” You mumble, moving to stand beside the bed where Ali and Ashlyn are cooing over your newborn daughter.

You grin as the little girl gurgles in her sleep, Ashlyn patting your back as you stare at your daughter and wife lovingly.

“Officially mommies.” She grins, turning to you, her brows furrowing. “What happened to your face?” She asks and Alex snickers, the cut across your forehead a tale of Noah’s birth in itself.

“N-N-Nothing.” You mumble and Alex giggles.

“Come on, spill the beans Al.” Emily pouts, gently stroking Noah’s tiny fingers with her fingertips.

“Someone fainted.” She giggles and everyone snorts, turning to you as they try to quell their laughter, so your daughter stays asleep.

“And the scratch?” Ali points and you mumble.

“She threw a Kleenex box at my head...” You nod to Alex and Ashlyn literally sprints out into the hallway, her cackling belly laugh filling the halls before she rushes back in.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard...”

You pout, but one look at your sleeping daughter and you smile.

“I’m glad she threw it... I wouldn’t have got to see her be born if not.” You whisper, gently brushing a fingertip across her tiny cheek, the little girl leaning into it.

You can’t help but smile when Ali takes a picture of the three of you, the woman giggling.

“I can’t wait for you to tell Noah this story.” She laughs and you pout.

“We aren’t ever telling her.” You mumble and Alex scoffs.

“Yes, we are.”

#uswnt #uswnt x reader #alex morgan #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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walks-the-ages · 3 years

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ML Rewrite: A Numbers Game

Let me preface this by saying I am firmly of the opinion that, no matter my opnions on certain characters, storytelling wise, the identity reveal should have happened in Canon Season 2.

"Unending time loop where the status quo must be maintained at all costs" can only drag on for so long until your audience realizes... The only episode that will ever be of consequence is... The last one.

Because nothing ever sticks.

Ever.

If your show can have it's non-two-parter episodes watched in literally any random order and have it have no impact on the storyline?

Then congrats. you have failed step 1 of basic storytelling.

The lovesquare will never ever happen until the last episode, because the writers are fully aware that that is what 99% of the fandom is sticking around for, and they want to get as much cash out of the fandom as humanly possible before they're forced to call it quits and finally pull out the last episode where:

Marinette and Adrien get together as a couple, defeat Hawkmoth and redeem Gabriel who hooks up with Nathalie after Emilie is revealed to be The Ultimate Evil Ever, and everyone lives happily ever after as a ridiculously rich married couple years in the future, training the next generation of cash-grabs, where Marinette runs her own high-end fashion company while Adrien now owns and operates a bakery and cheese house...

...despite how everything in canon has shown us time and time again that Marinette and Adrien could never be happy together, let alone have enough of a friendship even develop to get them to the point of even dating in the first place!

How would I have written the Lovesquare and the fight against Hawkmoth to have chemistry and continuity?

Well. Purely by a Numbers game?

If I knew I had 5 seasons to tell the story...

(this was supposed to be a short summary of plot points to hit each season. that did't last very long.)

Some minor changes?

~~~

Marinette and Adrien would develop a rapport, both as civilians and as superheroes, and actually be FRIENDS in and out of the suit, with their relationship developed over the course of Season 1.

Miraculous Cure is not a hand-wave. It does not erase everything in an episode. Hell, Marinette can't even use it for the first few months, and when she does finally manage to get it to work, it's limited in its scope, fixing some broken buildings, healing a few people's injuries, or bringing a handful of people back from the dead. The more she Cures, the more it drains her, and the more dangerous it is to her to use it without a sufficient bond with Tikki's Miraculous, which grows stronger over time, but Marinette is trying to force it by taking everything on her shoulders.

Miraculous hide their wielder's identities with magic (but with enough time a Miraculous wielder can begin to see through the magic), and a Miraculous can only be removed by the wielder, or someone empowered by a Miraculous (such as a minion created by the Butterfly, for example...)

The Agrestes are not billionaires; at least not to start. They were barely in the upperclass when Gabriel created his company and began using Adrien as a model for his lines. After awhile, suddenly, their wealth begins to skyrocket, and blank-eyed maids and servants suddenly start appearing randomly in the house, and then in the mansion that Gabriel moves them to, and suddenly Adrien finds himself the face of a multi-million dollar company seemingly overnight.

Adrien can't understand where all of the money his father has gained is coming from, what all these blank-eyed businessmen in suits are signing contracts for, or anything about his father's sudden rise to power. It's so sudden, it's so quick it doesn't make any sense. His father says they got lucky that Adrien didn't mess up the photoshoots, but Adrien can't help but think there's something more to it. Every time he catches glimpses of the silent maids or servants around the mansion who avoid him like the plauge, there's something creeping about how empty their eyes are. Adrien's fame skyrockets over the course of a year, and he wishes more and more that he could go to public school and make friends, instead of always being homeschooled since his mother died when he was five.

Marinette starts out as an Adrien fangirl, and has had a celebrity crush on him from before the series begins. She worships the idea of him because he is a famous celebrity, not because he... didn't put gum on her seat. Marinette is in love with the idea of Adrien before she ever meets him.

Marinette meets Tikki first (Fu does not exist, and kwami choose their own wielders) and is a hero fighting half-formed akuma for about a month before Adrien joins public school and Plagg chooses him as his wielder. Adrien has had a crush on Ladybug from day one, and jumps at the chance to impress his idol by taking up a Miraculous--

In this AU, Adrien is such a useless sidekick because... that's how he starts out. But, because this is a rewrite, he does not stay a constant liability while the audience is beat over the head with how "necessary" he is to the team like in canon.

The lovesquare starts out the same on both sides: They idolize and worship the idea of their crush, and go to dangerous lengths to chase the object of their affections.

Marinette stalks Adrien's photo shoots and memorizes his schedule, "Chat Noir" (Adrien) constantly tries to flirt with (harasses) "Ladybug" (Marinette) after she's told him to stop and focus on his job as a hero and is constantly trying to figure out her identity, even going so far as trying to peep when she has to transform behind a door... and these actions are portrayed as Bad! Horrible! Violating!

Adrien is not lauded as a saint for not peeping at Marinette transforming! Adrien is not shown in a sympathetic light when Marinette shoves him away as he's trying to kiss her in the middle of battle! Adrien putting civilians in danger because he's too busy joking is not glossed over and ignored by the storyline!

Marinette stalking Adrien is not played off as a joke! Marinette memorizing Adrien's schedule is creepy and met with concern from her friends! Marinette sneaking into Adrien's house to leave a present on his bed is a horrifying violation of his privacy!

Adrien and Marinette both have their canon flaws, and they're shown as being actual flaws and unhealthy, dangerous behavior that is Not Okay.

Adrien's kisses Marinette on the cheek in the middle of battle after she has ignored or dismissed his flirting for a few days now? Boom, Marinette shoves him away with a horrified, super-strengthened push and from then on out spends the entire battle avoiding him and doesn't let him get close to her, shutting him down when he tries to dismiss her feelings. This goes on for a few days as Adrien refuses to see anything wrong with his actions, continuing to try to flirt with Marienette from a physical distance... up until him distracting her results in the Dupain-Cheng Bakery being obliterated, with the entire family trapped inside, now dead and only saved by the Miraculous Cure that Marinette barely managed to cast for the very first time? The family he is friends with and knows on a personal level as a civilian?

That's Adrien's wake up call to how fucked up and dangerous his behavior is, and he steps up his game, working to earn back Marinette (and Plagg's) trust, focusing his entire attention on fighting the villains and rescuing civilians and being the best hero her can be.

Marinette plots to kidnap Adrien from a photoshoot, going as far as sabotaging his bodyguard from being there to pick him up? Results in Adrien actually being kidnapped from the photoshoot, and now Marinette has to try to trackdown Adrien's kidnappers to rescue him, failing, and only having Adrien get away "unscathed" because Plagg rescued Adrien, making it look like a lucky chance that Adrien was able to evade his kidnappers in the middle of the night?

That's Marinette's wake up call to how fucked up and dangerous her behavior is, and she vows to make up for her actions, ripping all of her pictures of Adrien off of her walls, destroying her copy of his shedule, and the only reason she doesn't go to the police to confess sabotaging Adrien's bodyguard is because Tikki forbids her from putting her duty as Ladybug in jeopardy by being under the close watch that legal actions would incur. Marinette now has to have that guilt on her shoulders as she strives to be a true friend to Adrien when he finally comes back to school.

The first half of Season 1 is Marinette and Adrien having their canon flaws presented as realistic and dangerous, learning from their mistakes, and striving to be better people. By the end of Season 1, they've cemented an unbreakable bond of trust and faith in the other-- both in and out of the suit. They seek each other out and have fun together on patrol, they talk to each other, and genuinely enjoy each other's company. Marinette visits Adrien on set and helps keep him entertained while he's stuck in one spot for hours at a time.

They are the best of friends. They continue to become closer over the course of Season 2, creating a 'secret base' out of an abandoned building to escape to their civilian lives are too much and they need somewhere to relax or train their developing new powers even as Hawkmoth grows ever stronger, akuma going from half-formed, mostly-human-shaped villains into full on monsters the size of buildings, with stronger and more unique powers each time. (There are no Akuma with reality-bending or time-breaking powers. Not yet, and maybe there never will be.)

Then. The Season 2 Finale.

They find out each other's identities. Purely by accident. It's during a battle, and there's no time to process anything right then but--

Season 3 is Marinette and Adrien getting reacquainted and coming to terms with each other's identities, becoming even closer, and teaming up in and out of the suit to investigate Hawkmoth as he continues to send stronger and stronger Akuma against them.

Season 4 is Adrien and Marinette investigating different leads to Hawkmoth's identity, discovering more and more clues leading them on wild goose chases that bring them ever closer to the truth until--!

Season 4's cliffhanger. Our heroes find out Hawkmoth is none other than abusive piece of shit Gabriel Agreste himself.

Gabriel being able to mindcontrol people suddenly makes their sudden rise to riches make so much horrifying sense.

Suddenly, Adrien and Marinette must fight not just a Supervillain, but Adrien's father, while keeping Adrien safe at home or having to deal with the consequences of Adrien running away from home and relying on his partner (and friends!) to survive.

If Adrien stays in his house (never a home, even before this revelation), the enviornment is constantly shown as sinister, dark and dangerous. Adrien is terrified of stepping out of line or drawing his father's suspicion upon himself, and constantly trying to find some way to get the upperhand against his father, constantly being interuppted by Nathalie the non-villainous assistant or various Business Men on the few occasions that Adrien is in the same room as his Father without being lectured and berated over an ipad from halfway around the world.

If Adrien runs away, he and Marinette stage another kidnapping, and initially have Adrien just hanging out in their secret base when he's not transformed, as Marinette points out Gabriel will get suspicious if Chat Noir is suddenly a lot more visible after Adrien goes missing.

Somehow, someway, The Class™ finds Adrien hiding out while they're in an impromptu search party, he confesses he ran away from home because his father is an abusive piece of shit, and the Adrien Protection Squad forms between their classmates.

Season 5 is Adrien and Marinette dealing with keeping Adrien safe from his father at home, bringing down Hawkmoth, and realizing that the wealth of billionaires is built on the blood of disposable workers. Adrien's story is not about romanticising the Rich the way he is in canon, it is a horror story about capitalism and the struggles of the working class just trying to survive.

#long post #ml #Miraculous Ladybug #ml rewrite #Miraculous Ladybug rewrite #Adrien salt #Marinette salt #ML AU #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng

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one80seven · 4 years

Text

Just a Coincidence

pairing: spencer reid x female reader

category: pure fluff

summary: friends to lovers, but with a soulmate au twist!

warnings: 10 year age gap (reader is 27 and spence is 37), emily swears like once

a/n: i’ll probably end up deleting this because it’s my first on here and i’m terrified, but if anyone likes it... part 2? also feel free to leave ideas/requests in my inbox, i’m always needing something to write about!

a/n 2: woah thank you everyone for the love on this <3 i was absolutely NOT expecting for it to get even the slightest bit of attention on this! a part two is maybe coming? still unsure but i certainly have ideas!

also, not my gif!

When your mother told you that your soulmate’s initials would appear on your left wrist at exactly 7:30am on your twenty-seventh birthday, you’d thought she had gone insane. But here you were, in the elevator heading up to the BAU, your fingers dancing over the small magenta letters. SR.

Of course, you briefly wondered if your supposed soulmate was the resident genius, Spencer Reid. He also happened to be your best friend, and because of that, you willed away any thoughts of it being him and forced yourself to believe that it was nothing but an odd coincidence. Besides, Spencer was ten years older than you, and although you’d never seen the initials on his wrist, you doubted they were yours. They couldn’t be.

The elevator’s ding drew you out of your thoughts and you quickly tugged your sleeve down, hiding what you knew everyone was going to ask you about. Maybe you’d just tell them that you didn’t have a soulmate after all, or maybe tell them that they were DM or EP just to mess with them. Whatever the case, there was absolutely no way you were going to let them know the true letters.

However, your plan met it’s end the minute a certain bubbly technical analyst was dragging you down the hall. You nearly tripped because of the force, awkwardly smiling at a few agents who passed by you on your way to her cave.

“Penelope, what-“

She shushed you, pulling you into the small office and shutting the door behind the two of you. Before you could stop her, she had a vice-like grip on your arm, pushing your sleeve up.

“S-R?” she mumbled, eyebrows knitted together as she undoubtedly went through a roll index in her mind. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she looked up at you with nothing short of a mischievous smile. “My oh my, it must be Boy Wonder!”

“What must be me?”

You felt your soul leave your body at the sound of his voice, tugging your arm away from her. You stared daggers at her, convincing her to not say a word about her discovery as the doctor looked at you with a puzzled expression.

“Nothing, Spence,” you smiled. He narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it.

“Okay...well, uh...” he cleared his throat, “Happy birthday, Girl Genius.”

You smiled at the nickname, something he called you often. Morgan was the root of it, joking about how you were just the younger, female version of Spencer. The whole team, and eventually Spencer, had adopted it as well. It also led to Penelope drawing a short comic, appropriately titled Boy and Girl Genius, which earned a nice little spot on your fridge.

“Thank you, Spence.”

You lightly pushed past him, groaning at the very long day ahead of you.

“C’mon, you gotta tell me!” Emily begged for the hundredth time that day, this time sitting on your desk, directly on top of the paperwork you needed to get done.

“Em, I don’t have any initials.”

“That’s bullshit. Show me, then!” she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the exact person you didn’t want to know about them. Spencer.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, slight concern laced in his voice as he moved from his desk to stand by your own. Before you could lie to him, Emily made a move for your arm, turning your wrist over.

“Liar! They’re...” she trailed off, a small smile on her face. You watched in horror as Spencer peered over as well, mouth falling open ever so slightly at what he saw. Emily’s eyes darted between the two of you, trying to hide the hopeful grin on her face in fear you’d slap it off of her.

“It’s just a coincidence!” you exclaimed. The two of them stared at you, their gaze feeling like it was going to set you on fire right then and there.

“This is a lovely conversation, guys, but I just remembered that Garcia mentioned getting lunch. Bye!” You made a beeline for Penelope’s office, ignoring Emily’s desperate calls to you.

“Oh sweets, what happened?” Penelope worriedly asked as you hurried into her office, falling into the chair next to her.

“Spencer saw them...so did Emily.” you told her, exasperated and tired. You ignored the small smile that played on her lips.

“Well, I have just the cure!” She spun her chair, digging around in her bag before pulling out a tin. You opened the tin, the smell of chocolate chip cookies filling your senses, drawing a deep sigh from you.

“Made especially for you, birthday girl.”

You thanked her, munching away on cookies as you watched her type away at lightning speed. Your heart was still trying to beat out of your chest and a lump had formed in your throat, but you found temporary solace in the cookies. That was until three soft knocks on the door drew your attention from her screens, and instead onto a certain doe-eyed doctor.

“Hiya, Boy Wonder. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Penelope greeted him, stifling a giggle at the way your cheeks flushed.

“I need to steal birthday girl here, if you don’t mind.”

“She’s all yours!” she chirped, turning back to her screens with what you considered to be a just plain evil glint in her eyes. Spencer gestured for you to follow him into the hallway. You sighed as you departed with your beloved cookies.

The two of you walked down the hallway a bit before he halted, turning to you and leaning against the wall. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, afraid that if you looked at him for even a second, you’d burst.

“I wasn’t going to do this until later, but,” he paused, tugging up his sleeve and watch. “Look.”

You glanced up at him, following his eyes to his wrist. You squinted at the letters, eyes going wide with the realization of what they were. Your initials. Magenta and small, just like his on your own wrist. You carefully grabbed his arm, thumbs swiping over the mark, wondering if they’d rub off and that this was some sick joke. However, they didn’t. He let out a breathy laugh, knowing what you were trying to do.

“You sure this isn’t a tattoo?” you asked him, half joking, half not.

“Nope, it appeared about ten years ago. I didn’t think it was you until earlier...but I’m glad it is.”

You tried to hide the large grin on your face, your cheeks growing pinker by the second. Every attempt to believe that you were just dreaming or that this was just a really weird coincidence failed when he leaned down, capturing your lips in his. Your heart soared and your head went a bit fuzzy, but you didn’t care. It didn’t last long, much to your dismay, but potential lectures about fraternization didn’t exactly sound fun.

“So, can I take you out to dinner sometime then, Girl Genius? Perhaps tonight?” he asked you, grinning down at you with a smile that made your knees weak.

“Of course, Boy Genius.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer read fic #spencer reid one shot #reid fluff #reid x reader #reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #cm

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

Put a Little Love on Me (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: Emily x Reader Based on Put a Little Love on Me by Nial Horan

Author’s Note: So Im gonna be honest here, I actually had an entirely different, much angstier plan for this, but i just couldn’t seem to get this image out of my head. I hope you enjoy and that I hit the request enough! Hit me up with questions or comments, it gives me life to know what y’all think.

The word you would use for you and Emily was inevitable. Like two magnets always being drawn to each other for better or for worse. Your careers weren’t really conducive. You were always on the road with your music and she was always on the road with her soccer, and where those roads crossed was few and far between.

Distance was hard, and the main cause of issues in your relationship. That and the media was hell-bent on having you date every human being you interacted with. The fight had been stupid, she knew that. It was a bad mixture of Jealousy, exhaustion, and longing that had led to the two of you being at the same award show and not speaking to each other.

Emily sighed wiggling in her uncomfortable seat, waiting impatiently for the stupid commercial break to be over. The quicker they got through this, the quicker she could talk this out with you. You were only sitting 3 rows ahead of the team, but so far you hadn’t spared a glance in their directions, not even when you had left to go get ready for your performance. She fucked up, she knew that, but it still hurt to have you blatantly ignore them.

“What happened between you and hot stuff?” Lindsey asked, bumping Emily’s shoulder. You were avoiding her as much as you were avoiding Sonnett, and she needed to know why. She was your best friend too.

Emily looked down, picking at a loose thread on her red dress.

****

“It’s not like I have a choice Emily,” You growled back, your hand ripping frustratedly through your hair as you paced the living room.

You were only in town for the next 36 hours and you wanted to celebrate with your girlfriend, but she was too hung up on a stupid music video. A stupid music video that was currently number 1 in the world.

“But you do. You didn’t have to do a sexy dance with your duet partner,” She growled back from her place on the couch. You were the big name in the diet with Camila. You were the one with all the control. Maybe Camila wasn’t your type, but that hadn’t made watching her dance all over you any easier.

“Emily…” You huffed, slumming back onto the couch and scrubbing your eyes. It was complicated. Yes, you had some control, but the pressure had been insane. Camila was in a committed relationship with her bandmate, and you were in love. You had given in because you didn’t want another fight with your managers. And you didn’t want them to take away the already limited time you had with your girl.

“Don’t Emily me! The entire world thinks you’re fucking her and you decided to let her grope you in your fucking music video,” She growled back dangerously, allowing her frustration with the media and her jealousy take complete control. Hiding how much it hurt to watch you do some of those moves with Camila. To watch her whisper senorita in your ear. Emily knew she didn’t call you that, so who was?

“I’m not cheating on you Emily, I fucking love you, and I just wanna enjoy the time I have with you,” You sighed, just so tired of all of this fighting. Was one quiet night with your girl too much to ask for?

“What, just so you can go running back to her?” Emily spat, and you winced.

“We’re on tour babe, she’s my opening act, nothing more, and you okayed it, so I don’t know what your problem is. I love you,” You explained slowly, emphasizing the word you. You only wanted her, why wouldn’t she believe you?

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Your face stayed buried in your hands, and Emily’s chest heaved. If you couldn’t understand why she was upset that another woman was all over you, then maybe you didn’t care about her as much as she cared about you.

“Well, if you can’t grasp it, then why don’t you just go?” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, and your wide eyes snapped to her. It felt like your whole world was caving in on you, if you lost Emily, you didn’t know what you’d do.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, finally only a feeble “What, Em-,” squeaked past your lips. Her face remained impassive, as though shattering you was easy.

“Get. Out.” She gritted out, pointing towards the door.

You stood, pausing only to stare at her for a few more seconds. The silence between you was heavy, like mud seeping into your bones.

“I love you, Emily, only you,” You sighed, hanging your head in defeat, and walking out the door. You spared her a glance, wondering how this night had turned out like this. You had been high on the excitement of finally getting to see her, and now you were crashing back to reality. You waited for her to respond, shaking your head when she wouldn’t even look in your direction.

****

“We had a fight,” Emily huffed, pulling around the loose strand. The fight was stupid, but she never thought you’d actually leave. That you’d walk away instead of staying and fighting for her. She had sulked all through the first days of camp until the first letter appeared.

“Hmm, is that why you’ve been getting so many letters?” Lindsey smirked, and Emily rolled her eyes.

“No, that was because I wouldn’t pick up my phone,” She snorted, remembering the words that had accompanied the first page. You had said that maybe you could be like Noah from the notebook. That if she wouldn’t answer your calls, then you’d write her a letter every day. And then maybe she’d be like Allie and come back to you.

You had kept your word. Every day between then and now you had written her a letter, and sometimes she wrote you back. You made up and “talked” out your issues, and now it was time for the reunion. At least she hoped that's what you were thinking.

“Gotta admit, she’s got game,” Kelley snorted from beside Lindsey. You were a true romantic at heart and that never ceased to amaze them. You were essentially apologizing with Emily’s favorite movie.

“And she’s totally in love with you Emily,” Alex added over her girlfriend's shoulder. No one sent almost 100 letters unless they were super in love.

Emily nodded, she knew you loved her and only her. It also helped that Camila was cuddled up with her own girlfriend 2 rows in front of them. It was hard to be jealous when you saw the person of your ire being utterly lovestruck with someone else (and she was pretty sure that the only person Camila wanted to call her Senorita was Lauren).

****

“You ready kid?” Your manager asked, straightening the collar of your suit.

You nodded hesitantly “I just hope she dances with me,” you mumbled. If she stayed in her seat, you didn’t know what you were going to do. You had planned this, and the only person who didn’t know was the main component.

You sighed. You wondered about her every day, where she was, how she was doing. You knew you loved her, and you were about to show her.

“She’d be an idiot not to,” You manager smiled, patting your back, and you gulped. You hoped so. You were pretty sure she would, she had forgiven you. She had even replied with I love yours, so hopefully, this all worked out. You had so much love for her that you could only pray it would be enough.

*****

You looked breathtaking on stage, standing in that navel blue suite. The performance was simple, just you and a mic in the spotlight, a piano playing in the background. It was odd for you not playing your accompaniment, but you did everything for a reason. Emily bit her lip, unable to take her eyes off of you. The spotlight mixed with that color made you look… so suave. Almost like the female James Bond.

“She looks sad,” Lindsey mumbled, patting Emily’s leg lightly. And Emily leaned forward, looking closer. She took in the furrow of your eyebrows, how you bright Y/E/C orbs were slightly dulled.

“The song is sad,” She huffed. She knew how much this song meant to you. She had asked about it frequently in your letters, and you had been honest about how much pain you were in.

“Not the ending,” Lindsey smirked, and Emily nodded. The two of you had made up and the end of that song reflected that.

“I wonder what her plan is, she never does anything this simple,” Emily murmured, smoothing out a crinkle in her red dress. If you weren’t playing the piano, then you had to have something big up your sleeve.

You Unhooked the mic and began wandering down the steps.

“She’s coming this way,” Lindsey said shocked, and suddenly, Emily’s hand was balling the material of her dress in her fist, and your eyes met for the first time that night. All of your attention was on her.

You walk slowly down the aisle, the bridge ringing through the room. The audience stared at you in awe, but you only had eyes for one woman. A woman who you had pulled several strings to have sitting on the end of the row.

You stopped in front of her, just as you got to the acoustic section right before the final chorus. Reaching out a hand and sending her a pleading look when she didn’t immediately take it, praying to God that this wouldn’t backfire on you. She stared at you wide-eyed, frozen at the suggestion.

You bit your lip as the tension in the room seemed to grow. The eyes on you waiting with bated breath to see what Emily would do. Lindsey nudged her, snapping Emily out of her daze.

You smiled encouraging down at her, and just as the final chorus began, she delicately placed her hand in yours. You pulled her up into you, her arms wrapping around your neck as yours landed on her waists, and the two of you began to sway in a slow dance.

“When the lights come up we’re the only ones dancing, I look around and you’re standing there asking, you’re the only one I need,” You sing quietly conscious of your proximity, staring into Emily’s bright blue with so much love as the lights flash on, and you’re the only two dancing.

She leans in close to you, just as you get the final line, her breath fanning across your lips, your foreheads touching.

Her lips press against your own, stealing the final note. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause and wolf whistles, but you don’t hear any of it. All of your attention focused solely on the woman in your arms. The woman that you loved so dearly and were so terrified of losing.

“I love you, only you Emily,” You breathed out, squeezing her side lightly.

“I know. I love you too,” She smiled, pecking your lips again. It felt so nice to hold her close, to have her right here in front of you. You reluctantly pulled away as the announcers called your name. You shot over your shoulder, before reconnecting your forehead with Emily’s. You just wanted to live in this moment forever.

“go, I’ll see you later,” Emily whispered, nudging your nose with her own and pushing you lightly in the direction of your impatiently waiting team.

You laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her with you. “You’re coming with me babe, you’re the only one I need,” You shoot her a goofy thing, kissing her knuckles.

“Put a little love on me,” She hummed back, wrapping her arms around you and kissing just behind your ear.

You loved her and she loved you and that was all that mattered. You were magnets, always trying to find each other, always pushing and pulling, always connected. You would talk about the details later, for now, you would just bask in being together again.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagine

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years

Text

Love you too.

A/N: This was initially supposed to be smut but my brain went hay wire and ended in angst. More Mayans coming next week!

MASTERLIST

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2210

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, Ez being an asshole, heartbreak, more angst

*****************************************

Ezekiel couldn’t resist ogling Y/N from across the overly crowded bar. Cigar smoke filtrated throughout, pool cues ricocheted, and Y/N dawned that brilliant smile of hers. Her candied glimpse combined with her impeccably short dress, and irrevocably sexiness drove Ez to the brink of combustion. Ez perched an elbow against the wood bar top watching Y/N’s hypnotizing demeanor. She shot him a playful glance unwilling to draw her attention elsewhere than from the beautiful man across the room.

Her voice oozed of alcoholic flirtation as she bit her lower lip catching his interest and walking his way.

“Come here often, hotshot?”

There was no denying the sly chuckle that slipped off his lips; “Smooth line. How often does that one actually work?”

Her kittenish nature only stoked his fire lighting a fire in his belly.

“Well…my boyfriend usually falls for it but he’s kinda into that cutesy bullshit. Come to think of it, you might know him. Tall, dark, and handsome? Ring any bells?”

Her insinuated attitude was driving him crazy. Unbeknownst to Y/N, his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans. She wanted to force his hand, compel to his more dominant side. His blood seethed as his eardrums hummed of desolate waves. Ez bit his tongue to stop the trickle of words begging to slink from his lips.

“Sounds like a sucker. Didn’t think a pretty chica like you to be taken? Such a shame.”

Y/N’s raised an eyebrow in curiosity wondering how much longer she could push him before he turned into putty.

“Now, now. I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my man. It’d be best if you watch yourself.”

Y/N excelled when a challenge presented itself. Defiance buried in her very pitch as she scooted closer to the man in question. Now elbow to elbow, Y/N rested her cheek against her knuckles coyishly.

“Baby, if you keep smiling like that, my panties will be drenched before we have the chance to do a damn thing about it.”

Leaning closer in;” Please don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I turn you on…make you wet?” There was no hiding the devilish grin cemented on his perfect face.

Her face furiously flushed at his choice words; “Most definitely, E. In all honesty, I’m not wearing underwear because matter of fact just looking at that gorgeous jawline of yours is way too much for my ovaries to handle.”

His tongue met the roof of his mouth creating a tsk sound reverberating from his mouth. Y/N rubbed her thighs together in hopes of alleviating her eccentric inner bits. Y/N pushed her falling tendrils from her face tilting her head his direction. Her hand made quick work caressing her inner breasts as Ez watched her chest beat rapidly.

“Mmmhm, and this girl is hoping her boyfriend just might be able to sneak away from his boys for a minute to properly fuck his girl. But I’d hate to force your hand….”

“I hope you know the punishment that ensues for this behavior baby girl…”

“Oh, so you admit you’ll punish me? God, I’ve been dying for you to fuck me all night. Finally, you got the hint, Prospect.”

Ezekiel chucked at her cleverness. He’d long fallen for the woman before him, but he appreciated the constant challenge she reciprocated time and time again.

“What are you trying to hint at, Y/N?”

“You know exactly what I want and you’re playing coy if you don’t.”

Y/N rested her hand atop his shoulder as his hand perched upon the dip of her luscious hip. Leaning in dangerously close, she trailed sleek kisses against the slick of his neck. Each smooth trailed upwards towards his ear as Y/N leaned in seductively close.

“It’s cute thinking you don’t want to fuck the shit out of me here. Your bashfulness never seizes to amaze me.”

Her hands grazed down his defined abs brutishly stroking the outer layer of his jeans.

“But your dick seems to tell another story.”

Ezekiel gazed around the room watching his brothers too distracted by pool cues and babes to notice their interaction laughing aloud.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m still their bitch boy and I can’t just slip away without someone noticing.”

“Oh, but I promise you won’t have to travel far. The bathrooms are only a few feet away. So, if you’re interested in fucking your super-horny girlfriend, meet me there in five minutes. If not, I’ll just have to do the job myself. But don’t worry, I’ll send you the video.”

“You’re such a goddamn brat, you know that? …” Ez moved his hand grazing his clothed crotch as a moan alluded her.

“Can’t you feel how hard I am for you right now? It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, dear boyfriend. If you’re bating me then yes, I do want to fuck you here and now.”

“So quick to make demands when you’re in no position to do so. Shit, I can’t wait to nestle so fucking deep within you, to hear you begging for me. Someone needs to fuck the brat outta ya.”

“Oh, it’s so cute you think I’ll beg. My pussy is your haven, don’t forget that.”

Y/N added just an inch of space between their sweltering bodies unwilling to give into him so easily.

“So, I’ll take your erect cock as a yes. You know where I’ll be…”

Y/N walked by him dripping in her own seductive nature. Ez reached towards her gripping her arm in exchange; “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Well guess you can prove it to me.”

“Oh, you tease….”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

“You little…”

“Brat? That’s right, only one person makes me act this way, feel this way and that person is you. So, whether you like it or not, deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you alright. Soon enough you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“I completely intend on it. In fact, I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

Y/N sauntered past him making sure to graze her breasts against his trunk; “You know where I’ll be.” She winked his way hoping for Ez to catch her hint before walking towards the bathroom hoping the one person she’d hoped would follow. Ezekiel Reyes was genuinely her other half, someone who understood every intricate design she’d been allotted.

Coco approached the Ez clasping his shoulder; “How are you the luckiest bastard outta all of us, Prospect? You get to tap that on the daily? Not fair cabrón.”

His angelic curls fell gently upon his forehead as that signature smirk of his appeared.

“In my defense, she’s a little shit that she tests my patience every damn day. But, yes, I gotta agree with you. I’m the luckiest bastard outta all of us.”

“So quit fuckin talking to me and go get yo girl, newbie.”

Ez nodded agreeing with Coco. He was torn between his club obligations and chasing after Y/N, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. 10 minutes… now go before I change my mind!”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, now go!”

His boots pounded against the wood; his strides picked up taking him quickly to his destination. Ez’s anticipation peaked as he neared the bathroom door rattling the handle. Ez stood dumbfounded to find the door locked…

“Querida, I know you’re in there. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, ain’t I?”

Y/N whispered back through the door; “I’m counting on it.”

The click of the door gave way unlocking as Ez stepped inside swiftly shutting the door behind him. He eyed Y/N like she was his last and final meal wanting to devour her from the outside in. The startled look in her misty eyes only excited him more. He stalked towards her; Y/N walked backwards in sync with him. Soon enough, the back of her thighs met the cold cabinet. Her skin crawled of goosebumps as her panting increased significantly.

“You bait me all night, wearing this ungodly short piece of fabric that barely covers anything on this gorgeous body of yours, and you have the audacity to talk shit?”

Electricity stifled their small quarters as Ez’s hands played with her hemline. Wet kisses tickled down her collar bone. Y/N tilted her head allowing Ez easier access. Torturously slow, Ez pressed the material upwards above her curvy hips revealing her bare pussy.

“No underwear. Glad to see you weren’t lying.”

Y/N slapped his chest in jest; “One thing I will never do is lie to you Ezekiel Reyes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Only adding fuel to the fire, Y/N grasped his chin between her fingers forcing his gaze to remain on her and only her. She squeezed tightly enough to grab his fleeting attention.

“I don’t joke about that shit, E. I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t spoil it just yet.”

The crow’s feet near his eyes softened exhaling all the excess air loitering in his lungs. His infamous puppy dog looks triggered charging their electricity. Forgetting her momentarily exposure, Y/N closed the gap kissing him with every inch of might fathomable. She mustered every ounce of desire to which Ez gladly reciprocated.

Their moans intermingled as Ez tapped her thigh signaling to jump on the counter. Her legs spread unconscious creating the perfect amount of space for him to slide into. His hands travelled along her sides before finding home and squeezing the globes of her luscious ass. Every dimple and indention turned him on. An illicit squeak was the only other sound accompanying their heavy breathing.

“Please, E.” A whiny undertone whirred to life.

“Please what? I’m right here.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips securely pulling him closer. His jeans rubbed deliciously against her exposed thighs only teasing her further.

“I want you. All of you, Ezekiel Reyes. Forever.”

Something unexplainable shifted in that moment as Ez gazed down at the girl pinned beneath him. For so long, he’d wanted this, dreamt of her, and now he wasn’t sure how to handle himself. The last time he gave himself so freely to another ended up burning him. Emily was his first love but Y/N, Y/N was his epic love. The twinkle in her eyes welcomed him time and time again silently begging for permission. Suddenly it wasn’t just about sex and pleasure but an opportunity of redemption.

“You feel it too, right?”

Y/N pulled back from his grasp embarrassed at her newfound honesty. “Ugh, I’m fucking it up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean for things to get so intense in a fucking bathroom of all places?”

Just as she moved to hop down, Ez stopped her. His this, this life he chose was no place for a woman like Y/N. And though his heart beat victoriously in his chest, Ezekiel knew what had to done. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to morph into his fucked-up life. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops; I’m in love with you too.

He was ripping at the seams dying to scream his unprofessed love but once again denying the beast within him. His silence was enough of an answer. Y/N frowned trying to hide the quiver of her chin. Looking away, Y/N furiously blinked hoping to will her unshed tears into oblivion. Her purity and compassion were too much at risk to sacrifice.

“Y/N….”

“No, don’t Ezekiel.”

“I think we want different things, things I can’t offer you.”

The rumbles in her chest cascaded violently like waves attacking a cliff. His rejection stung like ravenous bees.

“You can but you won’t. There’s a difference! God! I fall for this shit every time. You lure me back in and just when I break through your heavily guarded walls you pull back and shoo me away. How many times do you have to remind me you don’t want me, E?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Sadness swallowed her whole plummeting to an unimaginable depth. His thumb inadvertently reached for the droplet but she flinched in the nick of time. Defeat coursed through his blood. His subconscious screamed for him to speak but nothing came out. Her words seared him, his own personal brand of pain. Calm down heart.

“Tell me you feeling nothing and I’ll never ask again.”

The somber quietness remained suffocating both parties. It was then that the truth finally dawned on him like boulders falling from the sky. Sometimes the hardest battle we fight is the battle within ourselves.

“Jeez, Ez. Guess I got my answer. Next time you have one of your urges, don’t call me, ever.”

Her warm palm pressed against his pectoral lightly shoving him. The minute distance was enough to destroy him. Her rejection simmered into her movements. With her strength fast depleting, Y/N craved fresh fall air. She stopped in place looking over her sunken shoulder; “It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew. Have a nice life, Reyes.”

Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free. Free to mourn the love she so tragically denied. She distracted herself to save herself. After all, how often do we get a second chance…

~~~~~

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