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#Penelope just keeps winning
your-mums-nuts · 25 days
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Absolutely hilarious to me that the ton is gonna be speculating on why and how Penelope and Colin ended up engaged and there’s definitely gonna be some entrapment/pity rumours going around but the actual truth of it is that Colin chased a carriage down, fell to his knees and went “please please please please please please please”
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littlecarmine · 2 years
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AARON HOTCHNER and PENELOPE GARCIA | 2.21 “OPEN SEASON”
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drink-tang-gang · 2 years
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“I’ll touch your cheek / you’ll hold my hand / and only we will understand / not a word need be spoken/ in our language of love”
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One of my favorite commissions done for the lovely @LeCatProduction on twitter. I love any excuse to give these two some love. <3
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tlou-reid · 4 months
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Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal
♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all
♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.
These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.
But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.
You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.
So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.
You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.
However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.
“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.
He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.
You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.
“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.
However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”
With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?
He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.
Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.
The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.
This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.
The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.
As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.
“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.
You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.
“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.
“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”
Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.
You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.
“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”
There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”
While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.
“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.
After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.
Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.
Until you opened your door Saturday morning.
You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.
The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.
“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.
“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.
“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.
You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.
So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.
However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.
You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.
Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.
So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.
Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.
You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.
The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.
You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.
You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.
As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.
You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.
You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.
You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.
Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.
Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.
“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.
“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.
“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.
“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”
Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.
“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.
“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.
As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.
“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”
You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.
The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”
“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”
Well, you couldn’t refuse that.
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Bad Luck Charm
Every race she had been to had been a shitshow. The sprint in China was no exception.
Lol I missed the quali for the sprint bc sleep and wrote this (bc the one time I don't watch lando is in first)
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Lando wanted her at every single race she could attend. Now, these were few and far between, but he was happy to pay to get her to him if he needed to.
It was rare for her to attend the Friday practice sessions. She still had work and couldn't jet off to the other side of the world at a moments notice. But still, she promised to be there for the Saturday race.
The last race she'd managed to attend was Las Vegas, so it was understandable that she was on edge. But once she had landed in China and found out that Lando was starting in pole position for the sprint race, her worries eased.
Still, there was a race to get through.
She hadn't thought of being Lando's bad luck charm before. No, not until she read something that Max Verstappen had said, something about him winning so Penelope didn't think she was bad luck.
She didn't mean to think about every race she had been to and had Lando had either missed out on a win he was so closed to or didn't finish the Grand Prix.
But that was what had happened. Every win he'd been certain to win, he'd missed out when she was there. And now he was started on pole fir the sprint, dominating in a qualifying session that she hadn't been able to watch.
She seemed to be the only person that had figured it out, though. When she arrived at the track to watch Lando in the sprint, he immediately wrapped his arms around her.
His lips found the top of her head and he couldn't keep himself from grinning at her. He was just so fucking happy to have her there.
As with every race she attended, she kissed him, waited for him to put his helmet on and kissed that also. 'For good luck,' Lando said every time. (Oh the irony).
But then the sprint began. Lando didn't make it around the first corner still in the lead. Her heart sank as she watched him drop back into seventh.
It had to be her presence. What other reason was there? For some inexplicable reason the universe wanted to punish her and it was doing it through Lando.
As soon as she could, after nineteen laps of waiting and after watching her boyfriend finish sixth, she was in his arms. Lando wasn't happy with himself, ready to beat himself up, but having her there made it just a little bit better.
For the life of him, he couldn't work out why she was apologising. "Eh?" He asked as he gently moved her away from his chest to meet her gaze. "What're you on about?"
She looked damn near ready to cry as Lando looked at her. Whoever had made his girl cry, well, they had another thing coming.
But then she sniffled and wiped at the non-existent tears beneath her eyes. "Every race weekend I've gone to has gone to shit, Lan," she mumbled. "I'm your bad luck charm and I should fly back home before I make things worse."
Lando knew he shouldn't have laughed. But he couldn't help himself. It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Baby, you can't be serious," he said. When she didn't react he pulled her in again. "You're not my bad luck charm, you numpty. Plus, if you stop coming to race weekends I'll have to take time out of my practice sessions to drag you here myself. And then, boom, my racing gets worse."
"You're an ass," she said as she buried her face in his chest. He was an ass, but she loved him.
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januaryembrs · 20 days
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YOU'RE ALL I EVER WANTED | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [bonus chapter]
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Description: The one where you realise you like Spencer.
Length: 6.2k
Warnings: mention of when Penelope got shot, but other than that not much. Mentions of sex + body count though there is NO judgement OR SHAMING. Bugsy could be Bisexual/attracted to women if you choose to read it that way, but you don't have to!
authors note: this little bonus chapter is set the week before Emily 'dies' so right before the final second of Chapter Two. Or you can just read this if you'd like to see two morons dancing around their love for one another. Since I’m uploading today, I realised you needed to read part of this for the next big chapter so that is going to take an extra day or so but it is coming! I hope this satiates the bugspence cravings!!
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‘You’re the one, you’re all I ever wanted,
I think I’ll regret this,’
It was warm considering it was one of the last days of Winter, one of the warmest Virginia had in years.
Caseload had been ramped up with the amount of children out on the streets with their friends where any nefarious hands could simply snatch them, or young adults got drunk, or worse, in preparation for Spring Break, their inhibitions lowered to zero making them prime prey. And yet, on a random Saturday at the end of February, the sun peeked out from the dishwater grey clouds, the wind died down, and their phones stayed quiet with the promise of a real day off. 
And how better to spend a day away from their office than to meet their co-workers in the park for a game of soccer. 
“Morgan, quit marking me,” Bugsy yelled, dribbling the ball down the small field they’d commandeered as a pitch, four water bottles stood upright on either end as goal points. But Derek’s laugh was menacing, and she heard his footsteps pounding behind her, advancing on her as if they were kids in a playground, and before long he had swooped in front of her, despite her hand waving out in his direction to shove him away.
Emily was about to call her out for contact, not that she expected her little sister to give a shit, but Derek was too fast for even her where she sat on the side lines with Penelope. The ball went careering away from her, Morgan’s quick feet keeping it under much better control than she’d been able to, even with her hot on his heels, and before long he was shooting to where Aaron stood as goalie, just about rolling it past Hotch’s muscled legs into their goal. 
Derek whooped, Will jogged over from the other end of the pitch to fist bump his team mate as the younger woman huffed, her college jumper and shorts clinging to her sweaty body. 
“Sucks to suck, baby Prentiss,” Morgan jeered, shoving her shoulder lightheartedly when she glared at him, “Guess you owe me that drink, which I will be redeeming at the next convenience-” 
“It’s easy to win when you’re two hundred pounds of muscle and your opponent is a girl who hasn’t done sport since high school,” She snapped, her expression grumpy as she fingered the hem of her fleecy top. Derek chuckled, Will returning to sit with JJ as Henry climbed over her legs wanting to play with her long strands of honey blonde hair. He shoulder bumped the girl, hoping to perk up her mood, but she shoved him back as hard as she could, not that it did much since she’d said herself she was sort of out of shape compared to his rock hard abs. 
“Oh, come on now, Bug, don’t be like that,” He said, unphased when she damn near threw her whole body against his, trying to even knock him in the slightest off his feet, her face screwed up in annoyance. “Bugsy.” Derek tried again, only for her to ignore him and try even harder. He didn’t so much as flinch, “Bugsy, you’re being unreasonable,”
She huffed, drawing away from him and glancing at him with a scathing glare. “Okay, terminator, you won this time but I swear one day I’m going to make you pay for taking advantage of such a fragile little woman like me,” 
Emily scoffed, handing her sister a water bottle, “Didn’t you take down an unsub alone yesterday? I mean you didn’t even have cuffs until Spencer showed up-”
“Oh, whose side are you on?” Bugsy snarled, downing a gulp of water and walking back over to where Spencer and JJ were relaxing on a picnic blanket, the former laying on his back with a book spread open using only one of his spindle-like hands. 
“Good game?” He mused, trying to hide his smirk when she groaned in response, throwing herself down on the grass beside him. She wrestled her sweater over her head which left her in a band tee, her chest still rising with panting breaths as she lay down to his right, glaring at the clear sky. 
“Remind me to never play him in sport ever again. The man is a Spartan Warrior,” She huffed, barely glimpsing to where JJ chuckled at her defeated expression. 
“Did you know that the Spartans were actually banned from the Olympics for some time for violating the peace treaty between Sparta and Athens? But one of their athletes entered a chariot race pretending to represent Thebes, a city above Athens in Boeotia, and only when he won did he announce his true identity,” Spencer asked, his nose still buried in his book like he was reciting the very same information off the page. Bugsy’s lips quirked in interest. 
“That’s pretty cool,” She murmured, head flicking over to him where he glanced back at her, finally ripping his attention away from his novel. She blinked at him, his ‘boy band’ hair as so affectionately named by their unit chief, swooping over his forehead with a few soft, chocolate curls that she moved to fix almost immediately. 
She missed the way his eyes rounded in puppy love as she did so, a camouflaged smile twitching at his lips, an onset reaction of the butterflies that swarmed his chest. 
“I like your hair like this,” She said, even though she’d told him a dozen times already his new hair was dashing, as she’d put it, “It makes your eyes look really pretty,” 
He cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up because he couldn’t handle his reactions when she was so forward, “Really? I always thought they were the colour of dirt,” 
Her mouth dropped open, and she shuffled up onto her elbows so they were similar heights, “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now,” 
“Wow, the government name. I must be in trouble,” He mused, gaze falling to the grass beneath them, dropping his book into his lap even though he felt her annoyance poking holes in his skull.
“They are not the colour of dirt, I’ve never heard something so ridiculous,” She scoffed, nudging him with the back of her hand in a soft chide and he snickered, looking back up to where she was staring him straight in the muddy hues of his very plain hazel eyes. “They’re like, they’re like-” She tried to come up with an answer, squinting in the soft sunlight that turned the brown shades into liquid honey running off a spoon, her face  leaning towards his to catch a closer look at the exact pigment of them, “They’re like looking up at a forest on a Summer’s morning, you know? Like when you can see every single one of the leaves because of the light,” 
He nodded wordlessly, because no one had ever said something quite so poetic about any part of him before. He fought the urge to look away, wasn’t sure he could even if he tried because for a second they were both in a trance, dissecting the other’s gaze like they were imprinting their colour palettes to memory. 
“Buggy!” Her head whipped away from him as the blonde headed child came running over to her as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him. He launched himself at her stomach, and her hands quickly caught him before he could wind her, his cheeks rosy behind his bumble bee pacifier. She giggled as he slid down her side, his knees staining with grass as he reached muddy hands out for her face. 
“Woah, not so fast mister. Who knows where these grubby little paws have been,” She teased, and he laughed behind the plastic sucker, his bluebell eyes a near match of JJ’s blinking over at her. 
Spencer watched her and his godson with besotted eyes, imagining for a split second what she might be like as a mother, if she ever chose to be. He knew she would be soft and yet not lose one drop of the Bugsy playfulness he cherished, just instead parting everything that made her extraordinary onto a mini her. 
He saw it, like a flicker of a dream, like deja vu, a girl with her hair, her skin, her smile; the one that was impish and guilty like she had a secret, giggling behind a ladybug dummy the way Henry was doing when she forced his dirty hands together to clap; “Clap your hands if you smell like fairy farts- Henry!” 
The child laughed harder, so hard his pacifier dropped out his mouth with a little dribble, his milk teeth pearly with and tiny in the sun. His chest seized with giggles, his face turning pink as he panted to catch his breath, “You’re so silly, Buggy,”  
JJ swooped in to grab his dummy, giving his hands a quick once over with a baby wipe and packing the sucker back into his bag. Henry’s gaze quickly slid up his mother’s arm to where she lingered over his pack, and he was eager to make himself comfortable leaning against Bugsy’s stomach, legs stretching out onto the blankets, his shoes brushing against Spencer’s trouser leg. 
“Juice, mama!” He shouted, his little voice sweet knowing just how to wrap everyone around his pinky finger, “Juice and Bi’kits!”
“What do we say, Henry?” Will reminded gently, holding the Ben 10 satchel open while his partner rooted around the bottom of it with a loving smile. 
“Please, juice and bi’kits,” The boy replied politely, his feet knocking together out of excitement when JJ produced two red pouches and animal shaped cookies. Stepping over where Spence lay sprawled out, watching Bugsy idly stroking over the back of his godson’s white blonde curls, JJ handed the two of them a drink and snack each, Bugsy’s eyes flying up to the woman in interest. 
“For me?” She asked dumbly, wondering if she was to give the second helping to the boy once he’d finished his first or if it really was hers.
JJ shrugged, moving back over to sit beside Will where he wrapped a lazy arm around her waist, squeezing her gently, “I always pack extra for the other kids,” 
Bug’s face flattened into something unamused as Henry handed Spencer his juice pouch for him to push the straw in, “I’m twenty six, I’m not a kid,” She grouched, ripping open the packet of biscuits and shoving a lion in her mouth, “God, whoever invented these animal shaped pals is genius. Like, why does everything taste so much better when it looks like a monkey smiling up at me?” 
The three of them chuckled at her, Emily and Penelope starting up a new game of soccer with Hotch and Derek, David reffing from the sideline. Penelope was ofcourse with Morgan, looking a little pale where she stood in goal, as Emily ran at her in full force with the ball skipping between her feet.
Spence handed the drink back to the boy, picking his book back up as the two of them crunched on their goodies happily. 
“Story time, Uncle Spencer,” Henry demanded, pointing to the copy of War and Peace in between bites of a zebra cookie. 
And instead of telling his godson that he would almost certainly hate the complex, adult writing of Leo Tolstoy, Spencer smiled down at him, feeling Bugsy’s eyes roving over his face.
“Yeah, storytime, Uncle Spencer,” She jeered, her elbow getting dirty where it dug into the grass as she rolled onto her side to watch him properly, “Never too early to teach the kids about French invasions,” 
Flicking her a smirk, he cleared his throat theatrically, and pretended to read from his book, “Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White,” 
“That’s a real magic book you got there, Spence,” The woman snickered, and he smiled into the pages, not daring himself to look at the devilish look she had on her face. 
“Chapter One; Before Breakfast,” Spencer ‘read’ clearly, his memory still clear as a bell when his mother had read it to him when he was five, “‘Where’s papa going with that axe?’ said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast,” 
Bugsy felt Henry’s head slump against her hip, the boy slurping on his juice pouch happily as she punctured a hole in her own carton to take a sip, the two of them listening intently to Spencer recounting the children’s book to a scary degree of accuracy. 
His slender arms looked good with his sleeves rolled to his elbow, she thought offhandedly, his right elbow taking the brunt of his weight as he leaned on it, the other flicking through the Tolstoy novel as if it were the real thing, his long fingers splayed out on the back of the book to keep it open. His eyes kept darting up over the top of the page to see if they were both still listening, which they were, though Bugsy suspected Henry was starting to get tired as his head felt heavy against her skin. 
Propping her head on her hand, her eyes scanned over the profile of his face. She’d always known he was attractive, ever since she opened her dorm room door at John Hopkins and saw him and Morgan waiting for her. Her stomach twisted thinking about how long ago that seemed, that she couldn’t remember quite what her world had centred around when it had just been her at college; her mother and father were distant as ever, her sister was a stranger that had all but raised her, boys were just a passing face if she ever let them through her door. She’d had her books and maybe two friends, acquaintances would probably be the better term, and her coffee. And that seemed to have been enough, or at least it was enough that she couldn’t outright complain about how lonely she felt.  
And then she met Spencer. And that feeling had disapparated entirely.
Her heart swelled when she looked at him, recounting the beginning of chapter two by now, his forest hues glancing up at Henry’s sleepy, round eyes that watched him in interest. She thought for a moment that whoever his kid was going to be was going to be the luckiest boy in the world. She let herself imagine a boy Henry’s age already devouring books twice his reading age, one with wild, almond curls he’d let grow around his neck like JJ did with Henry’s. She imagined how he would sit him on his lap and let him read the books for himself, so that if he got stuck his dad would be right there to help him behind a proud smile. Spencer; a father. She realised how out of field the thought was before she shook it out of her head, though it had planted itself right in her hypothalamus the second she’d seen the vision of it. 
A small smile twitched at her lips, a warmth in the pit of her stomach flickering as she sipped the juice, giggling when Spencer changed his tone slightly so Henry knew someone new was speaking, seemingly enjoying the book almost as much as his audience was. His eyes snapped to her when he heard her, a devious little smile creeping up his lips like they shared the same thought. She wished she could do this every day, lay on picnic blankets and listen to him read, his voice was heavenly, and she thought she might never get tired of hearing him tell her things. 
Every part of her was consumed when she thought of him like this. It had happened once or twice, like when she’d driven him home from the doctors after they’d cleared his MRI’s, when she’d held his head in her lap on his couch and stroked his scalp, a cold compress over his eyes because his head writhed with a pain he couldn’t squash out. When she’d heard his soft snores as he finally dropped off to sleep and she allowed herself to look at his resting face, perhaps even more angelic than usual, a small indent right between his brows where his expression had been scrunched in discomfort for weeks, one she smoothed over with the soft pad of her thumb. She’d felt something then, like her whole body was full to the brim of him, her chest spasming with a feeling like she was coming down with a cold but one that made her feel good, but she’d brushed it off as seeing him vulnerable and soft compared to the quick as a whip FBI agent she was used to these days. She’d do just about anything for him, anything to make him feel better, anything to just make him happy.
Or when they’d eat breakfast together at his desk, her chair rolled up beside his as they sat together, taking it in turns to do crossword puzzles together because they realised they got competitive when they were allowed to answer all of them at the same time, and Bugsy did not like losing. There had been one morning when they’d descended into madness because they were both trying to write the answers as fast as possible, their hands smashing together over the boxes, her hand shoving his lithe body away as he had called her a cheater through red cheeked laughter. Rossi had confiscated the paper when things had gotten too physical and she’d pulled the lever beneath his chair, lowering his seat quick enough he nearly slipped right out. His coffee spilled all over his desk as his arm flew out to grab his desk, and the sight alone made her laugh so hard she almost peed. He’d pretended to be annoyed at her for all of two minutes as they cleaned up the mess together, but he too had found himself laughing hard enough he was almost in tears because she could barely get two words out without creasing over and holding her stomach in aching barks of noise, the two of them leaning against one another for support. She thought then, if she had breakfast with him every day, whether it be with quizzes or coffee or even a plain bowl of oatmeal, she’d wake up every day happy. 
And she thought it then, her heart swelling fat enough to burst as he looked up at her over the top of the leather binding again. Even in the split second he did so her skin had turned to gooseflesh, like he’d grabbed her at her soul and squeezed her whole being affectionately. And it was like she remembered every time he’d made her feel like that, times she thought of it as the fact a girl who received little to no attention growing up was of course going to revel under the gaze of an attractive man with a heart sweeter than cotton candy, it was just psychology. One big Freudian-slip of nonsense. At least that was what she shoved it off as. 
But looking at him, his hands big enough to grab her face whole, his body long and lithe as he spread out on the blanket, his hair falling so delicately, his tone soft and pandering to the little boy who was dropping off to sleep against her stomach. His whole essence was so Spencer it made her feel at home, like this was what she was created to do, feeling so fulfilled sat with him sipping on a juice pouch as he read to her she could die tomorrow and feel accomplished for only twenty six years. 
She knew in her gut that wasn’t what friends felt for each other; the thought creeping up her spine and over her shoulder like a virus that seized her brain as its own, her expression unwavering as she watched him with adoring eyes. 
She knew it was wrong, but with him she felt worth something. She felt complete. Like she had everything she ever needed, everything she’d ever wanted on the nights loneliness had snuck in and she’d felt like no one would ever understand how the muddied water of her mind worked. 
But he did. He always had. 
And it was like she heard a screech in a track record as it came to a stop, her head working overtime with the thought of it. 
She bit her lip in guilt, as he continued reading, hoping she wouldn’t ever ruin whatever it was that she’d felt, because she might not ever be able to forgive herself if she did. 
“It’s over one and below a hundred, and that’s all you’re getting,” Bugsy said with a teasing smile, her fingers resting on the rim of a very sweet Cosmo, as Penelope and Derek sat opposite them, Spencer to her right with a beer on one of the few times she’d ever seen him drink. But it had been a good day, and what would be the harm in topping off the day with a cold beverage, “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like they meant much,” 
“We know it doesn’t matter, baby Prentiss, we’re just being nosey,” Derek chimed, his fingers wrapped around his own bottle of beer, courtesy of Bugsy which she had paid for with a grumble, a tipsy glint in his dark eyes. 
It was just the four of them this evening. Will and JJ had taken a sleeping Henry home so they could spend some rare time together seeing as their son was entirely knocked out. Hotch had taken Emily home after David had given her a red card for trying to tackle both Aaron and Derek multiple times during their game, because apparently competitiveness ran in the family. He had tried to gently remind her Aaron was also on her team, but had received a glare that would make any agent cower, and Hotch had suggested maybe it would be best if they got her home rather than fill her with alcohol. 
Rossi had excused himself home after hearing the colourful things the oldest Prentiss woman called him in Italian, likely contemplating if she meant any of the threats she was making. 
“Any guy would be lucky to make it to your magic number, honey bee,” Penelope added, her pastel painted lipstick making a cute rim on the straw to her own Margarita, “Or girl! Any girl would be too,”
Bugsy shied away at that, blanking for perhaps the first time because the whole topic of her romantic endeavours was suddenly embarrassing when Spencer was sat right beside her. She had spoken to them before about her college days, and had never once made an effort to hide the fact she knew she had a charm about her that meant she usually could take someone home if she wanted them. 
So why was it suddenly so difficult to admit in front of Spencer? She knew why, she knew why every single one of them suddenly felt miniscule in the grand scheme of things because they hadn’t meant much to her, not when he was sitting boring holes into the side of her head with an unusually tight expression. 
“What does it matter if there were girls, none of them really meant much,” She brushed them off, her face heating up when she finally looked at Spencer, his long fingers picking at the label on his beer with a tight lipped smile.
“We’re just teasing, Bug, there’s nothing wrong with any number you could give us. Besides, I guarantee mine is higher than yours,” Derek reassured, squeezing her wrist gently, his eyes sliding to where Spencer seemed to be trying to avoid all eye contact like he wanted the seat to swallow him whole, “Same with you, Kid, there’s no judgement at this table, we’re all human,” 
“I bet you were a real ladies man by that third doctorate,” Bugsy teased, nudging his shoulder with her own because she hated when he went quiet. 
He looked at her like he was expecting her to be cruel, except she didn’t look it, not one bit, instead she seemed a little skittish, no doubt from having the spotlight on her. “What makes you say that?” 
She bristled, “I mean, come on, Spence, you’re very good looking, you’re the smartest person I know, you’re funny and there’s like not a single bad bone in your entire body,” She said, becoming increasingly aware of the weight of her words the more she spoke. But it was like the cocktail had loosened her lips, had made it seem entirely normal to essentially tell him how lucky a girl would be to date him, how she had thought about all the reasons she would find him a worthy sexual partner. She watched him blush, granting her a flustered smile, and she looked to Penelope desperately for help, “Pen, would you tell him?”
“She has a point, Reid. You are the full package,” Penelope conceded, her smile illuminating the whole bar as she reached over to hold both their hands in hers, “It’s a shame you’re both strongly planted in the friend zone otherwise the four of us could have really been something beautiful,” 
They all chuckled, Bugsy shaking her head and leaning against Spencer’s side when he seemed to ease up, just to remind him she had meant no harm by what she said. In fact, she’d meant entirely the opposite.  
She felt his hand lean under the table to squeeze her knee, because he knew what she was thinking, and she felt herself relax at the feel of his touch. 
“Alright, here’s a question; winner gets a free shot on the next round. What was your worst date?” Morgan poked, noticing how the two youngest agents seemed to scooch towards one another almost as if they hadn’t realised, as if they were working off their own orbit, until they were pressed right up against one another, their elbows brushing against one another, “Doesn’t have to be sexual, could just be bad table manners,” 
“I haven’t really been on a date before,” Spencer tried to weasel his way out of the question, Bugsy’s head whipping to him in surprise, “There was that one time I met that girl Austin for coffee, but that was pretty great,”
She bit her cheek in annoyance. She’d forgotten about Austin, the bartender that she’d told Spencer to go after, because she was so sure that a good looking doctor like him deserved someone kind and attractive like Austin had been. She remembered how she’d seen her ocean blue eyes roving over her friend, how at the time it hadn’t meant much to her, because she couldn’t really blame her for thinking he was hot, how now it stirred something in her tummy that she feared felt like jealousy. 
She dared herself to stop the bombarding thoughts of what ‘pretty great’ entailed exactly, and busied her face by looking to Morgan for his turn. 
“My man,” Derek said with a wicked grin on his face, watching Spencer cower away from the attention though there was something guiltily proud in the smirk that grew on his face that said Spencer was somewhat pleased with his answer. In the scheme of things, he’d gotten lucky, pun intended. The only woman to ever say yes to a date with him had been sweet, even if he’d quickly made it clear he wasn’t looking for anything more with her, and even then she’d been understanding. 
“Your turn, Morgan,” Bugsy reminded, trying to be as cool as possible despite the fact her stomach felt flipped upside down at the sound of a woman she hadn’t thought about in two whole years. She didn’t know what had gotten her so territorial in a matter of seconds, but she hated every moment of it. 
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know ladies, that someone has in fact put Derek Morgan in his place before,” Derek said, with a clap of his hands, and Bugsy and Penelope shared an amused eye roll. 
“Who knows how big your ego might be if this goddess among women hadn’t acted when she did,” Bugsy drawled, Penelope giggling into her lime wedge as Derek laid a hand on his chest in faux hurt. 
“I’m telling you, I’m a changed man. I tasted my own medicine, Sugar, and it was bitter,” He said melodramatically, and even Spencer shook his head with a laugh, because Derek was a diva when he’d had a few to drink. “We go out to a lovely restaurant, I pay ofcourse, being the gentleman I am, and then we decide to go for some drinks after to round the evening off,”
“Any girl's dream come true,” Penelope jumped in, giggling when Derek wrapped an arm around her shoulder, like they were on a date themselves. 
“That was exactly my thoughts, babygirl.” Derek flirted, taking a swig of his beer, “Anyway, I maybe have a little too much of the good stuff, nothing particularly worrying. We’re laughing, we’re vibing, and then we go back to my place,” 
“Here we go, the real good stuff,” Bugsy chimed in, nudging Spencer with her elbow as the two of them snickered like tweedle dum and tweedle dee. “Fifty Shades of Morgan,”
“Pipe down, lover girl,”  Derek barked through laughter, Penelope barely making it through a sip of her own drink without smiling, “So as I was saying, I’m feeling a little worse for wear, she’s a little drunk too, so we move past it, and then we get to my room,”
“Bow chick a wow wow,” Bugsy sang teasingly, to which Spencer chuckled and taking a sip of his own drink. 
“Well, you would think, honey bee, since I am known to the women for my experiences in bed, some may call electric,” Derek slurred, holding her hand gently over the table to which she laughed even harder. 
“Huh, I must have missed that email,” She teased back, taking a long final sip of the dregs of her drink. 
“You wound me,” He replied, shaking his head, and turning to look at Penelope seriously, like he was sat in a confession booth, “So anyway, we’re in my room, about to get jiggy with it, only when I take my boxers off I find my soldier is sort of-” He paused, swallowing and looking at Spencer’s red face where he was trying desperately not to break, “You know. Unable to stand to attention,” 
Bugsy spat her drink across the table, the action alone making Penelope laugh so hard tears sprang to her eyes, the younger girl coughing as she choked on her drink, and Spencer patted her on the back until she reclaimed some composure. 
“Oh, god,” She gasped, her hand thumping her chest as she tried desperately to get a hold of herself in between the loud cries of glee and winding herself, “Derek-”
“Hey, laugh it up, Bug, it worked out alright in the end. Our second date really was electric,” He replied with a smug smile, as the girl finally caught a breath, her lash line watering with tears as she grabbed for some napkins on the table to clear up her mess. 
“If you say so,” She said, her voice croaking as Spencer offered her a sip of his drink to wash her throat out. She took a small mouthful of beer, handing the bottle back to him with a grateful smile, and she tried no to think about the fact that germ wise, they had essentially just kissed. 
“Your turn,” Spencer said, something amused in his eyes as she looked at him somewhat betrayed, “What’s been your worst date?” 
She sighed, wiping beneath her eyes with her sleeve, “If you must know, and because I really do want that shot,”  She started, clearing her throat one final time, “I was seeing this guy in New York over Spring break, Sean something,” 
“Sean something?” Derek asked, “You didn’t know his last name?” 
She shrugged, fighting the urge to crawl into a small ball of embarrassment because surely what Morgan said had set the bar for judgement high, “We didn’t exactly do much talking when we saw each other,” 
Spencer hid his frustration in a fake smile, though one look at his furrowed brow would have given him away instantly. Luckily, they had their eyes on her long enough they didn’t catch a glimpse of his expression. It wasn’t that he would ever think less of her for being with someone else, who wouldn’t want her, but hearing about it made his inside boil with jealousy he didn’t even know he would have ever felt. 
“Anyway. I felt like a change of scenery and my mother was bothering me for a lunch date since she was in New York for the month, so I took him and two of his friends out to Italy for a long weekend,” She went on, ripping up a napkin for something to do while she spoke, and she felt Penelope staring at her agog. 
“You took a casual fling to Italy for a change of scenery?” The bubbly woman asked, her mouth dropped in shock, “Can I sleep with you?” 
Derek laughed, and Spencer went bright red when he jumped to ask the same question though he knew it was entirely coarse. Maybe it was the beer loosening his tongue, or maybe it was the fact he wondered what the two of them sitting in a sunny vineyard like a rich old couple would look like, he wasn’t sure. 
“Play your cards right, Princess,” Bugsy teased, clearing her throat to continue, “Anyway. We’re there for two days and the final evening Sean and I get into a bit of a disagreement over something dumb; I think him and his friends were being too loud and we were getting complaints. Anyway, we kiss and make up for the evening, we go out to a club. We go back to the hotel, get jiggy with it as you put it, and when I woke up the next day, the bastard had taken the bag with all our boarding passes and came back to America with his friends without even waking me up.”
Their mouths fell open, Spencer’s brows shooting into his hairline in worry, “That sounds awful, Bug,”
She shrugged again, messing with the pile of ripped up paper she’d created, “It’s nothing. I spoke the language so I got by okay, and luckily I kept all my cash in my purse so I hitched a ride to the airport and got on the next plane, except the only available one landed me in California so I had to wait for a transfer over to Baltimore. By the time I got back, his roommate said he was with some other girl,”
“What an asshole,” Derek said, shaking his head as he said so, but Bugsy raised her shoulders again. 
“I really know how to pick them,” She said, swirling her lime piece around the bottom of her glass, “Anyway, the hotel staff felt bad for me and gave me a free bottle of Pinot Noir on them so it didn’t work out all bad,” 
Sensing it was somewhat of a sticky subject, Penelope jumped in with her usual wit, “As much as I would love to give you the shot, buttercup, this gal took a bullet on her last bad date so I will be collecting that prize if it’s all the same to you,” She said, her bubbly attitude quickly throwing metaphorical glitter over the subject, collecting Bugsy's empty glass and her own together as her and Morgan moved to shuffle out of the table for another round. 
Bugsy’s eyes widened, “What?” She stopped, and she looked at Spencer to see if they were playing some sort of joke on her only to see him unsurprised, “What!?” 
“I’ll tell you about it some other time, sweet cheeks. Right now I have a tequila, salt and lime with my name written all over it,” Penelope chirped, waltzing up to the bar with her muscle two paces behind her as he drew out his wallet to put down for the next round of drinks. 
“Well, I suddenly feel like an asshole for complaining about being left in a nice hotel alone,” Bugsy said, her head resting on her hand as she looked over at Spencer who ran his finger over the emerald green bottle. 
He snorted, “Tell me about it, I said that my last date went wonderfully,” 
They met eyes in the dark lowlights of the bar and shared an amused grin, like they knew it was cynical for them to laugh except they really did feel like morons for complaining about how bad they had it when Penelope had all but joked about her situation. 
“I am sorry that happened to you, though,” Spencer said, his hand creeping over the leather seat to where hers sat on her thigh, “That must have been really scary. Why didn’t you call Emily?” 
Bugsy’s face tensed, “We weren’t really speaking then, and I knew if I told her or my mother I’d get the same lecture about being irresponsible and careless. I think I thought I’d rather do it alone,” 
Spencer pouted, braving enough to move his hand up to take hers in his own. Maybe it was the second bottle of low percent beer, or maybe it was because she’d flickered with something genuinely saddened when she’d said it, and Spencer thought that in every  instance of her story she’d had little to no one to turn to for help.
She had been alone, and the thought of it crushed him. 
He grabbed her hand, her head snapping to him and praying she didn’t find pity there because she hated that. Except she just saw him, those mossy eyes looking rounder and more lovely than ever when she regarded him. 
“You don’t have to feel alone ever again, you know that right?” He asked earnestly, giving her fingers a little squeeze, and she felt her tummy do that stupid turn all over again. It was like she had an upset stomach except that was a complete antonym of what it was, like her stomach was so unbelievably overjoyed that she could barely even hold it together without wanting to ask him what it was he had done to suddenly turn her into some sort of feral creature for every little movement he made. 
Except there wasn’t just one thing, it was everything about him. Everything. 
She smiled at him, more bashful than she had ever felt for him, and against her own instincts she slipped her fingers in between his own so they had their every digit laced together, and it was suddenly so much bigger than two friends chatting in a bar. 
She knew it then, felt it realer than ever, like a stop sign slapping her clean across the face and shattering every bone in her skull. 
She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 
-
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seph-ic · 1 year
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My favorite thing ever?
Nico has a service dog 
Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything) 
So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal. 
Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him. 
They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff. 
The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.) 
The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)
I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.
Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her. 
Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)
the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.
soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.
She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief) 
She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares. 
She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.) 
she can even open the fridge in the big house.
If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat. 
Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.
Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work. 
He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.
On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids. 
All Nicos freind's and family love her.
Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.
Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.
Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.
Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.
Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.
Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.
She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.
Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.) 
Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.
It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.
Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.
She gets absolutely spoiled. 
At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case
She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)
Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.
Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.
But he absolutely adores Penny.
He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.
Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine
you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.
And she ADORES Will
Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.
The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!
Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.
Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.
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show-your-fangs · 11 months
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omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?
Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭
i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.
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this is part two of this blurb from my moments au
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 1.7k
CW: nothing, just fluff.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.
That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 
The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.
You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.
“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 
“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 
“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 
“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”
That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 
“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”
You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 
“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”
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Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 
You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 
You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 
You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 
Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 
“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 
You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 
Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 
“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 
“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”
“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”
Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—
“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 
Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 
“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”
That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.
But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.
“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 
“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 
“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”
God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”
“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 
A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 
“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 
“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”
You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.
“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”
He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  
“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 
The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  
It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 
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i've been smiling like an idiot all day
taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch
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sprinkler-ashes · 9 months
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gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.
words: 2.2k
warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy
a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!
i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush
i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush
everybody wants you
but i don’t like a gold rush
Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.
Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.
Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.
Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.
The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.
It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.
A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.
“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.
He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”
You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”
All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.
He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.
Except for now.
It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.
But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.
Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.
He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.
Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.
jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3
Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.
Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.
When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.
He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.
Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.
Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.
He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.
Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.
Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.
He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.
You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.
It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.
Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.
The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.
He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.
Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.
But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.
It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.
The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.
Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.
Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.
This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.
prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau
yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc
Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.
A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.
Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.
So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.
He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.
There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.
A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”
“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.
“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”
“Do you have a menu?” He asks.
“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.
You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.
You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”
Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.
“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”
Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.
He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.
To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.
Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.
I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!
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criminalmindsfanantic · 4 months
Text
POV: Strauss sends the BAU to see a doctor about their caffeine consumption
Doctor *professionally concerned*: i highly recommend keeping track of your caffeine intake so that you can see just how much you are ingesting
*back at work*
Penelope *finishing her energy tea”: how many are you at?
Derek *scrawling numbers on a notepad*: im about to go for my fourth coffee before i take lunch
Penelope: oh i am totally winning this thing! *refills her largest mug again*
part 2/?
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Text
Overdue
Synopsis: Red Bull is known for two things, winning and having the best driver pairing on the grid. Not because they have great chemistry, but because everyone is waiting for the day they get together
female driver reader x max verstappen
(kelly and penelope im sorry but you don’t exist in this world)
@mirrorball-6
2022...
You first met at your seat fitting. There had been rumors about it all season long, some sounding so true you started second-guessing your own information, but it all worked out the way it was supposed to. For most people.
Red Bull was notoriously known for being harsh with their drivers, and Sergio Perz was not an exception. He had first signed for Red Bull at the end of 2020 and was supposed to drive for them until the 2024 season ended, but after a disappointing race season and a half, Christian Horner was yet again looking for a replacement. His first choice was Daniel Ricciardo, and he was about to call Marko to set up a meeting with the Australian but came up with an idea instead.
Y/n L/n, the 23-year-old in the Alfa Romeo had come as a shock to everyone in the racing world, and while most people saw you as “luck” he saw opportunity.
2022 was your second year in Formula 1 and your rookie year had been almost as impressive as this year. You went P12 in your first F1 race and by Abu Dhabi, you’ve grown quite comfortable sitting at P9 every race. He told himself to keep an eye on you throughout 2022 and had basically made up his mind once you beat Segio to P8 in Baku. He approached you with an offer to test the Red Bull at the factory in England, even though there was no need for it, and once you came up with the time Max had the last time he was on the track, he knew you needed to be the second driver in 2023.
That was all that was supposed to happen until Red Bull randomly announces you as their driver for the rest of the 2022 season. After a disappointing Canadian Grand Prix, Christian decides “why wait?” and put you in the car as soon as possible. Everyone at Red Bull knew, it was something they kind of expected, but it still didn’t take away the the second driver’s surprise.
Max Verstappen knew who you were, he knew what you were accomplishing, and he knew what you could become in the future. He knew you would join him at the top of the ranks eventually, he just didn’t expect it now. But he also didn’t expect to fall in love with you, and he was quite wrong about that too.
The seat fitting was happening mid-June, five days after Canada’s race and attendance wasn’t mandatory, but he would be racing with you in July and figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to become acquainted with his now teammate.
He walked into the garage to see you in the cockpit of the second Red Bull car, talking to one of the engineers in charge of your seat, gesturing to the head rest. You smiled a lot, gave suggestions he would’ve made, and was polite with everyone working around you. He didn’t think plenty of you personality-wise before this; You and him haven’t talked much on or off track, so he didn’t have any impression of you to think of, but he figured you were making a good one.
You officially meet an hour later when the fitting is considered over, and you pull yourself out of the car.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t expect to see you here. I don’t think we’ve ever really talked before, so it’s nice to officially meet you” You offer a smile and a handshake, and he can’t help to do the same.
“It’s nice to officially meet you too. Yeah, seat fittings are not mandatory for me to attend but I figured I should come and meet you, y’know?”
“Thank you, I don’t know if I’ll see you again before the race in two weeks but if I don’t, I’ll see you in the paddock” You smiled again before saying goodbye and turning to leave.
Even though you have to go into the factory multiple times within the next two weeks, you don’t talk to Max again until you’re walking into the paddock Sunday morning for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Your paths don’t cross through media day, Free Practices 1,2, and 3, and Qualifying and while it might be a bit concerning, you’re only friendly with the guy and the racing world has given you a lot of things beside your teammate to focus on.
It seemed like every journalist in the media pen was already waiting for the announcement of Daniel Ricciardo replacing you and even though you thought you shut them up with your performances in the practices, the anxiety in your body doesn’t let up during Qualifying. You manage P5 and are glad the weight in your stomach lessens when you think of Sunday.
The fans you encounter on your way into the paddock help your nerves melt away and you walk in with a smile on your face. Martin Brundle tells you he’s rooting for you when he interviews you for his grid walk and it helps you focus on the task at hand. Your team principal told you to give it your all and we’ll work from there, but you plan on staying in the top 5. Your idle vision includes a podium but you’re careful not to get ahead of yourself.
You’re taking your headphones off and preparing to start your formation lap when your teammate comes to your side of the garage. “Good luck today, Y/n. You’ll be fine, yeah?” Max is clearly not the best at pep talks, but you smile at him anyway.
“Thanks, good luck to you too” And then you’re exiting the pitlane with three minutes until lights out.
“Okay Y/n, you’ve got Russell, Sainz, Leclerc, and Max in front of you. Just give it everything and we’ll see where it gets us, alright” Your race engineer, Paul, comes over the radio.
“Understood”
“Alright everybody, it’s a beautiful day in Saudi Arabia, all twenty cars are lined up and ready to go. The five red lights come on... and its light’s out and away we go! Max Verstappen gets away, but Charles Leclerc is right behind him” David Croft commentates.
“He has his teammate Carlos Sainz just behind him who is pulling away from the Mercedes of George Russell. Russell isn’t as lucky as Y/n L/n has a better start behind him, she’s already pulling away from Esteban Ocon and is getting close to the Mercedes”
“Lap 24, we’re about halfway through this race and we’re waiting for some action through the top five here. Max Verstappen leads with a 7 second lead to Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari. Carlos Sainz is in P3, behind his teammate with a 4 second gap, and the on-going battle between Mercedes and Red Bull continues behind him. George Russell is in P4, but Y/n L/n is not making it easy for him to maintain it. They’ve been overtaking one another since Lap 6, let’s see in L/n can make it happen” Martin Brundle commentates.
“They’re nearing turn 27, L/n is closing in on him, she makes her way down the inside, they’re going wheel to wheel, can she pull it off? Yes she can and she’s not letting up either. I believe she’s trying to shorten the 5 second gap to Carlos Sainz”
“Lap 40 and Y/n L/n is making another attempt on the Ferrari in front of her. They just exited turn 13 and she’s going around the outside this time. She’s taking the long way around- there’s almost some contact there, no damages to either car I think, and it’s P3! L/n takes P3 from Carlos Sainz, let’s hope she can keep it”
You almost couldn’t believe your ears when you heard Paul come over the radio as you cross the checkered flag
“P3! P3, wonderful job Y/n, beautiful drive, really” You’re smiling so much you have to take a deep breath before you can respond. “P3 is great guys, thank you. Really proud, we did great today”
You’re halfway done with your cool down lap when you finally notice the cheering from the crowd and remember to wave at the sections with the most Red Bull colors. P3 is your best race finish yet and you park your car in front of the paddock with joy. You pull yourself out of your car and run into the awaiting arms of your race engineers. It’s an entanglement of hugs and cheers and you couldn’t be happier.
When you step onto the third-place spot on the podium you think it’s a spot you never want to leave. You spray the overside bottle of champagne into the crowd first before moving to drench Charles and Max. When you’re sticky with the fizzy drink and grinning into the bottle, you catch Max’s eye and for a second, it’s just you two smiling at each other. He offers a handshake and a smile. “I have a good feeling about this” You beam back at him. “Me too”
2023...
“So Y/n, just coming back from the summer break, do you have any doubts about this weekend’s Dutch Grand Prix?” A reporter asks you and you snap your glaze from the paddock behind her to the camera in front of you.
“Um, well no, it's been about three weeks since the last race but me and Max are both excited and confident about Sunday” You speak for the teammate you’re trying to discreetly look for.
“And with it being Max’s home race, what are the expectations for Red Bull?”
“As always, it’s for both of us to get on the podium-” You suddenly shriek at the hands that hit your shoulders from behind.
“What the- oh Max!” You turn to find your teammate and best friend grinning behind you.
“You scared me, oh my god- I missed you, it’s been a while” He pulls you into a hug. “Hi. Missed you too”
You and Max both go home to your families every summer break and even though you’re training on the sim together every other day, you still missed him.
“What a cute Red Bull moment. Y/n, can I just get that last question from you?” You pull away as the journalist interrupts.
“Yeah of course, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted” You roll your eyes jokingly at the man next to you.
“As always, the expectations for us are to get a 1-2 finish, if not that, then at least one of us up there”
“Right, thanks Y/n, good luck this weekend” You wave at the woman before walking towards the Red Bull garage with Max.
“I am not rude, if anything you are the rude one. Always coming up to my interviews and distracting me” He says.
“You love it when I interrupt. You said, ‘a lot of media stuff is pretty boring, but usually I am paired with Y/n, so it ends up being fun-’ Max cuts off your impression of him.
“I have never said that!”
“Yes, you have, you said it like a month ago” You’re recalling a moment during a press conference after a few drivers were joking about doing media stuff for hours and a reporter asking about it.
“Go do another interview or something. And don’t forget-”
“I’m meeting you in the hospitality at 3:00, I remember Max” You smile before the two of you separate and say goodbye.
It had been over a year since your first podium at Saudi Arabia and it’s been nothing but positive things at Red Bull. Since joining the team, the lowest you’ve placed is P7, and you and Max have grown accustomed to being next to each other on the podium. You and Max have grown accustomed to being next to each other most of the time, actually.
That win at Saudi Arabia was the day you and Max started to become friends and you two haven’t looked back since. Red Bull have become the team with the favorite driver pairing on the grid and there is always more content being asked of you two. When you train, it’s usually together, if an engineer can’t find either of you, you’re probably in one of the driver’s rooms, talking or just sitting together while you’re on your phones.
Which is what you’re doing now, on a Sunday morning, waiting for the race briefing to be held. As you said earlier in the week, expectations are high for Red Bull and while you do usually meet them, that doesn’t mean you aren’t nervous.
“Hey, we’re going to do great, yeah?” Max says to you as you stand across from each other in the garage, about to get into your cars for the formation lap. “Of course. Good luck” You bring Max into your usual pre-race hug before walking back to your side of the garage.
Max is almost always right about these sorts of things, so you’re not entirely surprised when you end the race in P3.
“Great job, Y/n. Ferrari was difficult today but you really pulled through. Congrats” Paul radios and you reply, grinning.
“Yeah, today was great. Good job to everyone”
You pull your car into the third-place spot and high-five Max when he comes over to your car.
“What did I tell you? You’re a great driver, Y/n, I don’t know why you get nervous” The Dutch man smiles at you as you take off your helmets and balaclava’s.
“You did great too, P1, amazing drive” He pulls you into a hug and kisses your cheek and you’re glad your face is already too flushed for anyone to tell you’re blushing.
George’s Mercedes comes in P2, and you make sure to drench him in champagne. “Oi, watch the champagne, L/n. We’ve still got to celebrate after this” The Brit grins at you and you can’t help but return it.
Said celebrations are held at a nearby club a few hours later and because it was a good race for nearly the whole grid, the place is packed.
You’re in a gorgeous outfit, floating around, talking to everyone, and laughing into your drink. You dance with whoever you can find, and at this moment, it’s Max. “Hi Max!” You smile and he laughs because you’re definitely tipsy.
“Hi Y/n, are you having fun?”
“Yeah, you should come dance with me” Max is about to say no because he doesn’t dance but then he looks at your smiling face and discovers he can’t say no.
Your smile turns into a grin when he lets you grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor. You’re surrounded by a couple of other drivers, but he finds himself only interested in you.
You make him twirl you around before telling him to twirl, all while laughing and moving to the music blasting out of the speakers. The Dutch feels an arm wrap around his shoulders and turns his head to find a smirking Daniel Ricciardo.
“You havin’ fun, lover boy?”
“What?” Max laughs confused.
“Don’t worry. You’re secret safe with me” The Australian winks before pulling away and Max puts on a weirded-out face but deep down, he has a feeling he knows exactly what Daniel means.
Your teammate decides he’ll unpack that interaction later and turns back to you, because, it’s you, why would he want to pay attention to anything else?
You soon run off to the bathroom with Carmen and Lily, George and Alex’s girlfriends and Max goes off by himself to get another drink. He talks to Lando and Daniel for a bit but spots his teammate sitting alone in a booth and excuses himself.
“You okay, Y/n?” You look up from your phone.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready to go home though” You yawn, and he notices Uber open on your phone.
“Don’t take an Uber, I will take you back to the hotel”
“Max no, stay here, have fun, I can manage myself”
He shakes his head. “I know you can, but I don’t want a stranger driving you back, you’re nearly drunk and we can’t trust everyone”
“But-”
“Y/n, it’s fine, I’m ready to go as well” He isn’t lying about that. It’s been a few hours since everyone’s arrived, and people are starting to leave.
“Okay” You get up and Max takes your hand in his. Daniel catches his eye and grins like a cheshire cat once he spots you behind him. Max just lets out a little smile and shakes his head.
Your teammate leads you out of the club and towards his car before opening the door for you and going around to the driver’s side.
Once he’s seated, he catches you looking at him. Instead of turning away, you say, “You have really pretty eyes, Max. You know that?”
Then you turn on the radio, shift in your seat to face the window, and close your eyes. “Thanks Y/n” he says quietly and is glad that you can’t see his reddened face and stupid smile through the dark.
The rest of the drive is in silence and when Max parks the car at the hotel, he shakes your shoulder slightly to wake you up. “We’re here”
He gets out and opens the car door for you and again grabs your hand in his. He walks with you up to your floor and stops when you pause at a room that must be yours. “I think I’m good from here. Thank you, Max”
Before he can say anything, you wrap your arms around him in a hug and kiss his cheek, mirroring what he did just after today’s race. “Goodnight, Y/n” he says, barely above a whisper, as you step in and close the door.
“Don’t worry. You’re secret safe with me”
Abu Dhabi, 2023...
It’s the last race of the season, and for Red Bull, it’s the biggest one yet. Max is set to receive his trophy as official 2023 World Champion, and even though everybody has known for months that he’d be the one to win, it’s still exciting. Bets are on you to win today’s race. You qualified P2 yesterday and even though it’s raining heavily, you’re expected to outdo the other nineteen drivers.
By now, you’re not nearly as nervous before races as you once were but the weather adds a touch of unpredictability you’re sure Formula 1 doesn’t need. You’re minutes away from getting into your car and are filling the time by double checking the weather reports with one of the race engineers.
Just as you pull on your helmet, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and turn to find your teammate. “Good luck today. And be careful” Max draws you in for a hug.
“Good luck to you too. And don’t worry, I’ll be fine” You assure him.
Since the party in the Netherlands, you and Max have been closer than usual. When you hug, it’s for longer and you find yourself wishing you had his touch more often. When you have press conferences with other drivers, you always hope Max is one of them. And according to Paul and GP, Max often asks about your race when he’s leading with a big gap and is bored of his own. You just blush and smile under your helmet and reply to whatever your teammate has asked through your race engineers.
Drivers haven’t had any big gaps between races since the summer break but when there’s a week or two before you all see each other in the paddock, you’re on the sim everyday training with Max, sometimes on Twitch but mostly by yourselves.
“Alright everybody, it’s a wet day here in Abu Dhabi but as you all know by now, in Formula 1, the show must go on. According to the weather reports, the rain isn’t set to stop for four more hours, but down here, the red lights are going off in five minutes” The usual commentators, David Croft and Martin Brundle speak.
“Let’s take a look down at the track as the formation lap begins”
The formation lap is exactly what you expected and you’re trying to wipe the rain off your visor as you park your car in P2.
“Through the Abu Dhabi rain, it’s lights out and away we go! Red Bull’s Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n get away beautifully here, the two Ferrari’s of Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc following behind. I think it’s safe to say, most of the action is going to be between these four cars”
Crofty is, of course, right, and you spend your race defending against the two red cars. They are relentless in their attempts, but you’ve been dreaming of winning an F1 race for as long as you can remember, you weren’t going to let anybody else stop you.
This includes Max. He was in P1 at the moment, and Christian is dreaming if he thinks you won’t overtake your own teammate for a first-place trophy. You’ve never done it before but today seems like a good day to be bold.
“The rain is still coming down as we’re entering our last lap here, the Ferrari’s are in P3 and P4 with a gap of 9 seconds between Y/n L/n’s Red Bull. Now, the bets have been on her to go P1 today, a lot of people think it’s the perfect day for some writing in the Formula 1 history books. Let’s see if L/n can make it happen”
You’re accelerating to add pressure on Max as Paul comes over your radio.
“Alright Y/n, Christian’s decided to let you two fight. I believe you can win this, alright? Keep pushing”
“Understood. Thanks” You turn off your radio and enable DRS just as you’re approaching Turn 12.
“Ladies and gentlemen, she’s going for it. 20 feet before turn 12, Y/n L/n has enabled DRS, she gaining on Verstappen, she’s going through the inside, they’re wheel to wheel as they’re going around Turn 14, I can’t even tell with the mist- is she through?
“Yes she is! Y/n L/n is P1 and just like that, she’s won! Y/n L/n is the winner of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! Y/n L/n is the first woman to ever win a Grand Prix! Oh my word, we can only image how she’s feeling right now. What a move! What a historical, historical moment. Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve just watched history be made”
When you pass the checkered flag, it feels like something that should’ve happened ages ago. You’re afraid you’re daydreaming for a moment but then feel the rain hitting your helmet and hear the roar of the crowd and you know it’s real.
You're almost shaking from the adrenaline but as soon as you get your hands to cooperate, you’re pulling yourself out of your car and standing on top of it, cheering with everyone around you. You jump off to run into the arms of all the engineers on your side of the garage and they’re just as excited as you are.
You see Max after you pull away and you don’t hesitate to embrace him. He spins you around and he’s laughing, and you can tell he doesn’t care at all that you overtook him.
Just as he puts you down, you take off your helmet and balaclava to close your eyes and tilt your head up towards the sky to feel the relentless rain on your face. When you open your eyes again, Max has taken his balaclava and helmet off and he’s staring at you. Just as you once were at your first race for Red Bull in Saudi Arabia, for a second, it’s just you two staring at each other. Instead of offering a handshake this time, Max puts his hands around your face and leans forward to press his lips against yours. It takes you a second to realize what’s happening but once you do, you place your hands around his arms and kiss back. Then it’s just you two smiling into the kiss, while the rain pours from above and the people around you cheer. You’re beaming at each other once you pull back and Max pulls you into another hug. “I really like you, y’know” Your grin somehow widens. “Yeah, I know”
David Crofty speaks one more time and even he’s smiling at the sight. “Ladies and gentlemen, two never-before things have happened today in Abu Dhabi, both have been long awaited”
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emilysholster · 11 months
Text
Satisfied (David Rossi x BAUAgent!Reader) Pt. 2/2
Summary: the tension building between you and Rossi becomes hard to ignore when he invites the team over for dinner
Tags: NSFW, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected PinV sex (let’s assume reader’s on the pill), couch sex, dirty talk (praising, pet names), (fem!reader)
Translations: stella (star), bella (beautiful), gattina (kitten), dolcezza (honey)
A/N: this ended up being so long omg but something about this man gets my [creative] juices flowing
Read Part One
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You made your way over to an empty seat next to Emily, desperately trying to ignore her knowing smile. Thankfully, the rest of the team seemed to be none the wiser, much to your relief.
“Alright, let’s play,” Rossi said, taking a seat on the couch across from you, next to Hotch. “As long as boy genius over there agrees to be dealer.”
Spencer sighed, once again banished from playing because of his ability to effortlessly win every time. However, the young doctor did enjoy keeping track of everyone’s cards nonetheless, trying to determine who would win before the round was even over.
And so began a friendly but competitive game of poker. Your head wasn’t exactly present as you kept replaying what had happened in the other room. It also didn’t help that you kept catching Rossi’s intense gaze throughout the game, the smirk on his lips indicating he knew exactly where your mind was.
Rossi won the first round (“nothing beats years of experience” he claimed, with a pointed look at Reid). Emily won the second, after which Hotch and JJ went home to their respective families as it was getting late.
Penelope won the third. You weren’t doing great at the game and also took pity on Reid, so for the fourth round you were the dealer. After he inevitably won, he also headed home. Another round later (which Rossi won again) and the rest of the team decided to call it a night. Derek offered to drive Penelope and Emily home, as the two winners had had more than their fair share of drinks.
Penelope and Emily chanted a drunken rendition of “We Are The Champions” as they struggled to put their shoes and coats on. You nearly bent over from laughing as they sang loudly in an exasperated Derek’s face. Rossi, fighting laughter himself, offered to help the poor guy. Taking hold of Emily’s arm while Penelope grabbed Derek’s, he walked them out to Derek’s car, leaving you inside.
Smiling to yourself, you began clearing up the glasses and the remainder of the plates, walking them over to the kitchen. You tried not to think about how it was going to be just you and Rossi left in his house, but you couldn’t help the butterflies low in your belly. After placing the dishes in the sink, you noticed a bottle of wine off to the side, still half full. Why not?
You pulled two glasses from the cupboard and opened the bottle as you hummed along to the music that played. Caught up in your own thoughts and with your back turned, you hardly noticed that Rossi had returned to the kitchen.
“What’re you up to, stella?” He asked, making his way over to you.
You turned and handed him a glass, staying leaned against the kitchen counter, almost mimicking your position from earlier. “Did you manage to get the girls in?”
“Barely,” Rossi chuckled, accepting the glass gratefully. “Morgan’s going to have his hands full.” He placed himself directly across from you, leaning against the island and studying you with dark eyes. There was a moment of silence as the two of you sipped your drinks, each watching the other.
“Now, tell me something, Y/N,” Rossi said, breaking the silence and slowly approaching you. He gently took the glass you were cradling and placed it on the counter along with his before his hands came to rest on either side of your hips. “What exactly was missing from my dinner that left you less than satisfied?”
It was impossible to ignore the heat between your legs now, your body thrumming in anticipation. You took in the sight of Rossi’s parted lips and slightly dilated pupils as he waited for your answer.
So you gave it to him. “This,” you stated simply, before closing the distance between the two of you and pressing your lips to his. Rossi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Soft sighs and moans escaped both of you as your tongues explored eachother’s mouths.
You pulled away to catch your breath and Rossi effortlessly moved to place kisses along your jaw, not wanting to take his lips off you for a moment. “Dave,” you sighed as he reached the sensitive skin of your neck.
One of his hands remained wrapped around you while the other gently kneaded your breasts through the fabric of your dress. He brought his mouth back to yours, mumbling “Beautiful,” before capturing your lips again.
Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pushed yourself tight against him, feeling his erection pressed between the two of you. You reached your hand down and rubbed him over his pants, making him open his mouth against yours in a sharp gasp. “Y/N,” he groaned. “Couch, now.”
Giggling, you let go of him and walked over to the couch, pausing as you reached behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down.
Rossi beat you to it, coming up behind you and unzipping your dress. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” His breath tickled your neck, leaving goosebumps behind as he helped you out of your dress.
He all but pushed you onto the couch, your back against the arm rest as he knelt on the couch in front of your legs. You could see his breathing was erratic as he admired your figure, scantly clad in your matching underwear set. You trailed a hand down towards your panties, spreading your legs while Rossi watched you like a hawk.
His breath hitched as you pulled your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds. Unable to help himself, he palmed his hardened cock through his pants, watching as you slid a finger down and collected your juices before bringing your finger to your mouth. “Mm,” you moaned, sucking on your finger earnestly. Rossi’s mouth parted in surprise at the salacious act.
“You dirty girl,” he grinned before he quickly moved to position himself over you, his mouth back on yours in a deep kiss. His hand pulled the cup of your bra down so he could pinch and tease your nipple with his fingers, making you moan against his lips.
Rossi moved his mouth down, pausing to unclasp your bra and free your tits before attaching his mouth to your nipple, sucking and biting as you threw your head back. As he alternated between your breasts, you found yourself lifting your hips to grind your mound against him.
Rossi moved to press his mouth against your ear. “Desperate, are we?”
You whimpered as he nibbled at the shell of your ear. You were desperate; your clit throbbed and you could feel your wetness slowly leaking into your panties.
Rossi moved himself off you suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact. He unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to the side before bringing his hands to your hips and sliding your panties off. He lowered his head between your legs, placing kisses up your thighs until his mouth was inches away from your centre.
“Dave, please,” you moaned, lifting your hips to get him to give you attention where you needed it. You could feel his breath against your clit and it was driving you crazy.
Rossi used his fingers to spread your folds apart, allowing him to admire the way they glistened with your juices. “Please what, gattina? Use your words.”
“Please eat me out,” you practically begged, unable to handle more teasing.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he hummed before bringing his mouth to your centre.
“Fuck!” You groaned. His tongue was nothing short of heavenly; circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth. He alternated his attention between your clit and your opening, using his tongue to slurp up the juices that collected between your folds.
You could feel your orgasm approaching as Rossi continued his ministrations. You buried your fingers into his hair, pushing his face against your core. You could feel him moan against you as he sucked your clit back into his mouth, his eyes focused on you panting above him. Your legs clamped around Ross’s head and you cried out as waves of pleasure rocked through you.
When you finally relaxed, Rossi brought his mouth back up to yours. “I love the way you taste,” he mumbled against your lips. You moaned into his mouth, already feeling warmth pooling low in your belly once again.
Rossi lifted himself from between your legs and stood in front of the couch. He helped guide you onto all fours, your hands now gripping the back of the couch while he stood behind you.
You were practically dripping in anticipation when you heard the sound of Rossi unbuckling his belt and his pants dropping. His hand gripped your hip to steady himself as he slowly rubbed his cock along your slit. “You’re so wet for me, bella,” he husked as his cock dragged through your folds, pressing against your clit.
“Please, Dave,” you pleaded, making the agent’s cock twitch against you. Your grip on the couch tightened as he nudged your clit repeatedly with his cock. “I need you in me.”
You gasped as he suddenly slid into you, his thick cock filling you right away. “God, Y/N,” he hissed as your walls clenched around him. “It’s like you were made for me.” Both of his hands now gripped your hips as he let you adjust to his cock before starting to thrust into you slowly.
You groaned at the feeling of him sliding in and out, and he picked up the pace as you relaxed around him. Rossi seemed to know just how to make you cry out, his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside of you.
One of Rossi’s hands left your hips to grab your shoulder, pulling you flush against him. You were now kneeling on the couch as he continued fucking you from behind, the new angle even more pleasurable.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your bodies sticking to each other as they became slick with sweat. “Fuck,” you cried out, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Your cock feels so good.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say those words out loud Agent L/N.” Rossi husked in your ear. He was close, and judging by the way you were milking his cock, so were you. He pulled out suddenly, grinning at the frustrated sound you let out.
“Come here, gattina. I’m not done with you yet, don’t worry.” He sat down on the couch and pulled you over so that your legs were on either side of him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock.
Rossi guided his cock back into you and you sank down until you were completely filled by him again. You leaned forward and placed your hands on his shoulders for support as you began moving your hips up and down his cock.
Rossi began matching your movements, thrusting upwards into you. You watched with pleasure as he groaned at the feel of you clenching around him, the knot within you tightening with every thrust.
“That’s it, ride me, dolcezza. Ride my fucking cock.” Rossi grunted as your hips snapped against his, tits bouncing in his face. He took one of your nipples into his mouth while his thumb began rubbing circles around your clit. Your head was cloudy with pleasure, making it difficult to speak. “Dave,” you cried out, the wave building inside you on the brink of crashing.
“Come for me, gattina. You can do it. I want to feel you come all over my cock.” Rossi panted below you.
His words were all you needed to go over the edge; you let out a groan, rocking your hips against him as your hole clenched around his cock. You moaned his name over and over, your nails digging into the bare skin of his shoulder as your orgasm rocked through you.
“That’s it, Y/N, good girl.” Rossi moaned as his cock twitched inside you. He captured your lips with his, groaning into your mouth as hot spurts of his cum shot into you.
You slumped against him, both of your foreheads pressed together and damp with sweat. Rossi pressed a soft kiss against your lips before gently helping you off him.
He stepped back into his boxers before disappearing. In that moment, the couch felt like the comfiest place in the world and you felt your eyes closing.
Rossi returned with a damp cloth and a glass of water. “Up, bella,” he said, handing you the water as he helped you up. As you soothed your parched throat, he used the cloth to wipe down your skin and between your legs.
Satisfied with his work, he pressed a kiss into your hair. “You were amazing, Y/N.”
You smiled up at him before meeting his lips in a kiss. “So were you.”
Rossi took his shirt from the floor and gave it to you to put on before walking with you upstairs. You used his bathroom, smiling to yourself at your ‘just fucked’ reflection: hair messy, makeup smudged, and lips swollen.
You returned to the bedroom and joined Rossi in his bed, sighing as he pulled you close. Your head rested against his chest, his own head over yours while his arm was slung over your waist.
As you closed your eyes and snuggled into him, you heard his voice from above you. “Well? Are you satisfied now?”
You laughed into his chest at the question. “Yes, Dave. I’m satisfied.” You answered, pressing a kiss against his skin before the two of you gave in to the pull of sleep.
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moon-river-me · 13 days
Note
Hii
A recommendation would be that the reader flirts with Spencer and he is very blushing because of it. The team would have fun with it haha.
Have a nice day!! 💖
ok so this is my first fanfic so i would really appreciate feedback(good and bad).
Ties.
fem! BAUreader, awkward spencer reid, sfw. I imagined early seasons spencer but it is non specified.
551 words.
“Did you know that wearing a tie can reduce blood flow to the brain by 7.5 percent?” Ties. That was how this exceedingly embarrassing rant began, you did that thing you do were you randomly compliment spencer; he loves it and hates it at the same time. Which for someone like himself, a logical man who values concrete answers, does not appreciate. Spencer loves problem solving, he has always been an amazing problem solver, when there was an equation, there was an answer, when there was a question, there was an answer, but the random comments that never fail to tinge his cheeks a rose hue, Spencer Reid did not have an answer for that.
By now Spencer realized he has been spitting useless facts about ties for over 3 minutes, which resulted in his face turning an even brighter shade of red.
“Pretty boy, all she said was nice tie,” Derek’s belly laugh could certainly be heard through the entire bullpen. Great, and even bigger crowd for his humiliation.
You giggle, keeping your eyes directly on his, “no no I love your facts spence, as long as you don’t give me a statistic on coffee and its correlation to some unheard-of disease, I will happily listen to you talk.” You add a subtle wink when you finish talking. Spencer’s bashful expression morphed into one of shock.
“You do?” The pure confusion in his voice added to your melodic laugh.
“Of course Spence, it’s the best part of working here.” While light-hearted, he picked up on the truth behind your words, making a shy grin appear on his face. He pushed his glasses up before realising his hair had now fallen Infront of his eyes.
“Here let me,” and before he knew it, your hand was directly in front of his eyes, pushing his hair out of his view. Spencer couldn’t take his gaze away from you. You keep the silent staring contest between you going. You know you will win; you always do.
“Boy genius, you look like a tomato” Penelope states are she strolls past to Derek’s desk.
“Red? I- I am not red its just hot in here.” His voice goes up at least an octave, his hand automatically travels to his cheeks.
“Okay keep telling yourself that Dr Reid,” you whisper the last part so only he could hear. You hand goes and taps his shoulder, keeping it there for a second longer than what could be considered normal, before moving to your desk, which coincidently is directly opposite his.
“I wasn’t lying by the way. Your tie is really nice. Suits you.” You state nonchalantly, as if that sentence didn’t make Spencers stomach swirl and form knots.
“I like yours too! Wait no.” You were not wearing a tie. Great. His utter screw up made you throw your head back laughing, increasing greatly when you looked at his horrified face.
“Thank you, Spence.” Your laugh slowly morphing back into your staple giggle, “maybe I will wear one tomorrow, and then you can mean it.”
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer felt like a puddle on the floor, but the look of admiration in your face made that feeling run for the hills.
“Don’t apologise, it was very cute. you are very cute” You promise him, nodding your head to accentuate your point.
oh. oh.
a/n
ok so sorry this is so bad but feedback would be very very great thanks!! I have some Aaron Hotchner x readers' coming up <3
I did NOT proof read lets pray this makes sense :)
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carmillascrusade · 6 months
Text
Shrouded affection | Emily Prentiss x f!reader
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Images do not belong to me.
Summary: You and Emily pine hopelessly after one another all day everyday. When a small misunderstanding happens after having to share a bed, Emily decided to put a plan in motion to woo you and win over your heart. Your however, do not know who your secret admirer is and can only hope it’s the woman you are head over heels in love with.
Word count: 2,618
A/N: This will be a multi chapter story ( probably around 4-5 ish chapters?) and this chapter was more of a set up. Anyways, have a good Christmas/holidays! Personally, I can’t wait for pigs in blankets ( not those sausage roll version ones. The bacon wrapped ones).
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Sleep deprived, you trudged your way into the BAU and up into the conference room. This wasn’t the only midnight call in, amd it certainly would not be the last. Your coffee burned your hand slightly as you gripped it, the thin paper of the cup not doing much to protect your hands from the scalding liquid inside.
Eyes bleary and hair tousled from sleep, you sat down with a huff. No matter how much you loved your job, the late nights and very early mornings would always be a nuisance. One thing you would always look forward to, however, was Emily. She could brighten your day just by walking into the room, for Emily prentiss shone as bright as the sun. And you lacklustre and dull, unworthy of her light.
The chair next to you was pulled out in a swift but jerky movement, the soft thud on the carpet filling the otherwise silent room. Shifting to the left slightly, you turns to face Emily who looked just as well as you did. Smiling slightly, you pushed your coffee cup towards her after noticing that she didn’t have one of her own; a hum of approval was all you got from her as she cradled your cup like a lifeline. Emily and mornings did but mix well.
Content to sit in silence with each other, you mentally prepared yourself for the case ahead, knowing it must be bad if your sleep was disrupted because of it. The quiet murmuring of your coworkers alerted you to their presence. How they were holding a conversation was beyond you. You can barely keep your eyes open yet theyre sharing a conversation. The world works in mysterious ways, you suppose.
Penelope presented the case; the victims having nothing in common but the elaborate, archaic symbols carved on their bodies post-mortem. She explained that the murders were occurring at regular intervals with escalating brutality, the unsub mastering their signature with every kill. With no leads, and only very little hope of catching the unsub, the team made their way to the jet in apprehension.
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You slumped down next to Emily on the jet, resting your head on her shoulder in hopes of catching some shut eye before landing. Idle chatter between the team lulled you into slumber, dreaming of sweet things to subconsciously prepare yourself for the case ahead.
Emily looked down at you sleeping form, a soft smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards. She was glad that you were comfortable enough with her to lower your guard. Her love for you was steadfast and unwavering, a silent hymn that resonated in the chambers of her heart, flicking with divine intensity yet still unsung. Veiled in sacred garments of discretion, her love for you sat concealed.
Telling you about her affections would not be an option. She didn’t want to ruin the delicate friendship the two of you had curated over the years of working together. No, she wouldn’t do that to you.
Rossi slid into the booth opposite you and Emily, a slight smirk adorning his face. A small quip dancing on the tip of his tongue. “You know,” he drawled. “It would do us all a favour if you just told her.”
“Told her what?” Emily bit back defensively. She didn’t want to get interrogated by Rossi, or anyone else on the team.
“Well,” the smirk was still there, albeit slightly larger now. “If you were to admit your feelings, then the rest of us wouldn’t have to watch the two of you hopelessly opine after each other.”
Emily’s cheeks burned a rosy hue as she slightly raised her voice, careful to not wake you up. “ I do not pine after her!” A moment passed before she added, more uncertainly than her last statement. “And she certainly does not pine after me.”
Rossi just chuckled at that, that knowing look that he often had crossing his face. He wouldn’t expose you. Not today. Because he knew that sooner or later you and Emily would get your acts together and admit your feelings to one another, without his intervention. All he had to do was wait.
Emily sat in silence as she contemplated Rossi’s words. Is her love for you really that obvious? Do you truly pine after her as she does you? And if you did, what did that mean for your future? Would you want to try have a relationship with her?
Shaking her head slightly, not wanting to crush her hopes before they truly began, Emily began to set up a plan. A way to win your devotion, to see if you found her worthy enough of loving.
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The case was long and tedious; multiple loose ends leading you on wild goose chases around the small town you had found yourselves in. To say you were all exhausted would be an understatement. But, the killer was caught and you were great full that the word was just a little bit safer. The knowledge that your late nights and early mornings were for a good cause eased the toll on your mind and boys ever so slightly.
However, one of the many downsides to this case being that it ran over, causing you and the team to search for a new hotel for the night since your precious one was fully booked, unable to extend your stay for a day. You were the last to make it to the new hotel, your sore feat slowing you down significantly. To your surprise, Emily was waiting in the lobby, aimlessly reading over the rules of the hotel in hopes of staying awake long enough until you arrived.
“Em?” You questioned as you approached.
“Hey you,” she breathed, eyes droopy but smile still present nonetheless.
“What’re you still doing up? Aren’t you tired?” You asked, surely she was just as shattered as the rest of you were.
“About that,” she started, albeit slightly sheepishly. “There’s only one room left and since we were the last to arrive, we have to share.”
“Oh, that’s fine. You know I don’t mind sharing with you, Emily. You could’ve just text me the room number instead of waiting for me.”
“There’s only one bed.” She blurted out, cheeks tinted slightly red at the sudden outburst. “I, uh, I didn’t want to take the bed or something, you know, incase you wanted it.”
Your eyebrows rose slightly, amused at her embarrassed ramblings that were honestly rather endearing. “We can share.” You said, shrugging your shoulder nonchalantly. You took the key out of Emily’s hand and tugged her along, missing the furious blush painting her cheeks and neck in a lovely shade of scarlet.
Too tired to think about the implications of sharing a bed with Emily, you got into the elevator still holding her hand and pressed the button to the fifth floor. A weary sigh escaped you as you stood in the elevator, head dropping to Emily’s shoulder you closed your eyes briefly; the shrill ding of the elevator startling you awake as you reached your floor.
Emily’s small chuckle the only sound filling the otherwise silent corridor as she dragged you to your room. She took the keys back from you, opening the door and ushering you inside towards the bed. Lazily stripping from your clothes as Emily locked up, you climbed into bed, dressed only in your underwear.
Following closely behind, Emily shook her head slightly at your haphazardness trail of clothing; accepting her fate of having burning cheeks for the remainder of the night. Slightly more awake than you were, Emily changed into her pyjamas quietly, not wishing to wake you from your well deserved sleep.
Sighing, she looked at you longingly before turning to the first edition printing of Carmilla nestled in between her clothes. You were always speaking about the book and when she saw it in the antique book shop, she just knew she had to buy you it. Grinning softly, she covered the book with one of her tank tops and got into bed beside you, snuggling softly into the duvet. The two of you fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of the person beside you and what life would be like if the other required your love.
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You woke up with a strong pair of arms wrapped around your middle and a face buried in the crook of your neck. Turning around was impossible with the vice-like grip the toned arms had on you. Blinking slowly, you tried to recall last night and how exactly you had ended up in this predicament.
Your eyes widened as you realised just who was spooning you from behind. Emily. You began to shift in her hold, only to be met with a disgruntled sound as she pressed further into you.
“Emily?” You whisper as you shake her arms slightly. “Emily, we have to get up.”
A puff of air into your neck was the only reply you received, her hot breathe a welcome contrast to the frigid air of the hotel room. The embarrassment washed over you like a tidal wave as you lied there helplessly. What would she say when she woke up? Would she be repulsed and never want to speak to you again? Or would she pretend as if nothing had happened?
Your spiralling mind was brought to a halt as Emily began to move beside you, her grip loosening but still present. Chocolate eyes peered up at you under dark, luscious eyelashes before they moved down; eyes dilating as they landed on your chest, clad in a silky black bra. Seemingly snapping herself out of the trance she has found herself in, Emily pulled back muttering a quick “sorry” before clambering out of bed and dashing into the bathroom.
Bemused at her strange actions, you hopped out of bed and got dressed, eager to get on the jet and head home. 15 minutes had passed and Emily still had not emerged from the bathroom. Unbeknownst to you, she was furiously trying to get the picture of you, half naked, out of her head. Sighing softly, your knuckles rapped against the sturdy oak of the bathroom door. When you got no response, you shouted out a quick “I’m going to go have breakfast! I’ll see you on the jet, Em.”
Silence was the only answer offered and you sullenly collected your belongings before heading down to meet the team, certain that you had ruined your friendships and Emily wanted nothing to do with you. Hopefully, you could apologise and go back to the easy friendship you had before. For life was not worth living if Emily wasn’t in it.
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You chatted amicably to JJ as you walked to the jet, Emily still nowhere to be seen which tugged at those gnarly deep rooted insecurities that claimed you drove everyone away. Noticing your rather gloomy mood Jj attempted to cheer you up with a few jokes. When that didn’t work she decided to just bite the bullet and ask what was wrong.
“What’s got you so gloomy today?” She asked through a mouthful of Cheetos.
“Nothing.” You replied, unable to look at her as she’d be able to see right through you.
She eyed you wearily before nudging your shoulder with hers. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“I think Emily hates me.” You blurted out.
Shock coloured JJ’s face as she processed your words. Emily hating you? Never. “What? Why would you think that?”
A short breath of frustration left you, sounding more like an exasperated laugh than anything else, as you went into detail about the night before and why you believed Emily hated you due to her actions this morning. A small smirk played at the corners of JJ’s mouth as she realised just why Emily was acting the way she was, but her assurances were not enough to relinquish your mind from the shackles of doubt.
Now at the jet, you boarded and headed straight to the back; headphones on and pillow resting between you and the wall of the plane, you were desperate to fall asleep in hopes of avoiding any awkward interactions between you and Emily.
Emily clambered aboard not too long after, eyes drawn to your slouched form engulfed by the shadows dancing in the depths of the dimly lit jet. JJ called her over, gesturing for her to sit opposite her before striking up conversation. You being the topic.
“You know,” she started, already opening another bag of Cheetos. “Whatever happened this morning has made her think you hate her.”
“Hate her?” Emily questioned with furrowed brows. She had never intended to make you feel that she hated you. “I could never hate her.”
“Well, I know that. And you know that. But she doesn’t, so please fix it before the poor girl dies from heartbreak.”
The jet felt suffocating as Emily reflected on her actions this morning, and how they may have been perceived by you. She replayed the events of the morning in her mind, each moment a painful reminder of the emotions she had unintentionally stirred; guilt gnawing at her chest, leaving a sharp pain where her heart once beat away comfortably. Her love for you there but a whispered secret that echoes in the chambers of her heart.
Perhaps it was time to show you how dear you truly were to her.
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Exhaustion was beginning to overtake you, creeping into your bones with such an icy chill that you had to take a moment to get past the shiver crawling down your spine. Shaking it off with a grumble, you made your way over to your desk in the bullpen- stupidly, you had left your apartment key in there and couldn’t get home without it. What you were not expecting, however, was a gift sat in the centre of your desk. Elegantly wrapped in a soft lavender paper, adorned with a silver bow and tag.
You were disappointed when you flipped the tag over, hoping to find a name attached, to see three small kisses scrawled messily in black ink. A quick glance around the bullpen found there to be no suspects loitering around, again disappointing but expected if the lack of name was anything to go by.
Running your tongue over your mouth in a brief moment of hesitance, you decided to open it. What could go wrong? Other than it being a deadly weapon of sorts. But if it was you were certain the sender would not have signed it off with a kiss. The paper pulled back to reveal a first edition printing of Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla, the original vampire tale said to have inspired Dracula. Eyes widening in glee, you picked the book up and carefully flicked through the pages, reminiscing on memories of your youth when you had first stumbled upon said book.
Hidden from sight, Emily watched as you discovered her gift. The joy radiating from you only making her decision to buy you the book even more worth it. She would do anything for you as long as you kept smiling. What would the world be without the glow you emanated? A world Emily wouldn’t even dare think about.
The smile on your face never left, even as you climbed into your bed that night. Even as you fell into a deep slumber with one wish plaguing your mind. The gift so precious and thoughtful that you couldn’t help but swoon. Optimistically dreaming of scenarios of Emily revealing herself to be the gift giver, and you two could share saccharine words and touches as you confessed your love.
A girl could dream.
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A/NII: This feels really boring as it’s just a set up for the rest of the story but I hope you enjoyed. Omg, you know what I also love, glitteberry J20 and it only comes out around Christmas time.
Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4
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sea-owl · 3 months
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@animelover4157
Here's their prompt!
I have always had an idea where Colin’s biggest threat for grabbing Penelope’s attention isn’t a suitor or Eloise.
No no no.
Colin’s biggest threat and nuisance is that he consistently have to fight a big ass dog (like a mastiff, cane corso, Saint Bernard, etc) that Penelope somehow convinced her mom to keep while in the countryside and is the very definition of a Velcro dog. It growls at any potential suitor that shows an interest in Penelope (it’s the reason why She doesn’t have suitors but Penelope is not aware of that).
For Colin, it does something worse. In the rare chance, that it is not next to Penelope, it will purposely move itself right next to/on top of Penelope so Colin cannot sit anywhere near her while it stares him down. This causes to Colin and the dog to race and wrestle one another to get to Penelope’s side with Colin losing 80% of the time and him glaring it down. Penelope thinks that they are playing and are getting along but is completely oblivious of the actual situation.
Tiny woman with a big ass dog. Classic.
Here's what I'm thinking.
So the Featheringtons were out in Ireland to visit Portia's brother, Mr. Finn Carroll, and his family. During their family visit one of the cousins introduced Penelope to the puppies their dog recently had. One of those puppies became attached to Penelope.
"Aw Portia look at that Penelope made a friend!" Finn said as he slid up next to his big sister.
"No," Portia immediately said.
Finn fully looked at Portia. "No?"
"No," Portia repeated. "Finn, I do not need a dog in my house."
"Oh, come on, Porshie!" Finn said, pulling out his puppy eyes and the childhood nickname. Tricks with a proven track record for him on getting what he wanted from his sister. "Let my niece have a puppy! You're already taking away her title as baby of the family!"
Portia sighed, rubbing her pregnant belly. "Finn, I am not dumb. We were both raised with an Irish Wolfhound. That dog will most likely get bigger than Penelope, and they're made for hunting large prey!"
"Yes, but you also know they make great companions!" Finn argued. "And doesn't Penelope need a friend?"
Portia will later blame her pregnancy brain, but when the Featheringtons went home, they brought a new puppy named Artemis with them.
Well, much like the goddess she was named after Artemis was a girl's dog and hated most men. She tolerated a few like the male staff, and she tolerated Lord Featherington on a good day. But most of the time, she stayed by Penelope's side.
"It is like she is sewn to your side," Felicity commented once as Artemis laid across both her and Penelope's laps.
Penelope laughs. "She just loves me."
Artemis barked in agreement.
At her full-grown height, Artemis was about the size of a small pony and was taller than any lord Penelope had ever seen if she stood on her hind legs. Artemis faithfully sticks by Penelope's side despite Portia's groans of dog hair in Penelope's dresses. Penelope only giggles when Artemis's response is to fully lay on her.
Artemis loves her life with Penelope and would only really change one thing. One tiny annoyance in her life.
That damn Colin Bridgerton. He's trying to take Penelope away from her! And he doesn't leave when she growls at him like the other men! He even growled back at her once!
The fool tries to race her too on the rare times she is not in her rightful place by Penelope's side. Why the fool thinks he'll win against her, she'll never know.
Today just so happened to be one of those days. Artemis was out in the park with her family. She was playing with Felicity and Penelope. The two girls throwing a ball attached to a string and having Artemis chase after it.
Artemis sniffed the air and stopped. She smelled Bridgertons. Looking around she spotted the family. Now the Bridgertons themselves weren't a bad thing, a few in particular she could do without and one wished was never around.
Well, it looks like today won't be the day Artemis's wish comes true. Just as she spots Colin Bridgerton he spots her as well. They stare at each other for a moment before both take off towards Penelope.
Artemis stared smugly at the Bridgerton as she once again claimed her prize of being next to her favorite human. Her head resting in Penelope's lap as Penelope pets her.
"One of these days Artemis I'm gonna beat you," Colin swore.
Penelope giggled. "It's so nice for you to play with Artemis Colin. I'm sure she loves racing with you."
Artemis turned her stare onto Penelope, headbutting her in the red head's torso. Playing? Absolutely not Penelope. Can't you see he's trying to steal you?
"You are coming to my family's country party? Colin asked Penelope.
Artemis stares back at Colin. Why hasn't he left yet? He's lost the race.
"Yes," Penelope replied.
Artemis huffed, leaning herself fully on Penelope. Going to Aubrey Hall meant a long carriage ride, AND Colin being around every waking moment. He was worse in the countryside where he had Penelope and Artemis trapped in his family home. Well at least Penelope won't be going to that bad smelling place she goes to ever few nights. Artemis hates when Penelope comes home smelling like that. To the point she almost considered getting Colin to go look for Penelope one night when the rest of the family. If only Penelope didn't lave her in charge of Felicity.
On the trip to Aubrey Hall, Artemis lay on the floor of the carriage by her family's feet. The rock of the carriage lulling her to sleep. At least with this trip, Artemis will have more space to run around temporarily before returning to London for another few months.
Another family was arriving as Artemis' own family were getting out of the carriage.
"Oh Portia!" The mother of the other family greeted Portia.
"Hello Mary," Portia said.
The older women started talking, meanwhile Penelope struck up a conversation with the older daughter.
"How are your first impressions of Aubrey Hall Kate?" Penelope asked.
Oh Artemis has heard of Kate. She likes Kate for how frustrated she makes Anthony. It's funny to watch when Artemis is visiting the Bridgertons with Penelope.
"H-hello."
Artemis looked around before feeling the wet nose of another dog boop against her leg.
Looking down, Artemis saw the smallest dog in her life. Was it a dog? It smelled like one, but how is a dog this small?
The smaller dog stared at Artemis. "I'm Newton! Newton Sharma!"
Oh this is Kate's dog.
"Artemis Featherington," Artemis said. Bowing her head a little so she wasn't towering over the smaller dog.
Newton began to tap his two front feet. Was he nervous? Artemis laid down to be at a more even eye level with him. "Perhaps this will be better to talk?"
Newton lets out a little yelp, one of excitement and moves closer. "Yes! Have you been here before?"
Artemis nods. "Many times. How are you dealing with your interloping Bridgerton?"
"You mean the Viscount?" Newton asked. Newton moved his head a little. "Well, I did knock him into the Thames the other day."
Artemis barked out a laugh. "I'll have to remember that the next time Colin races me near it."
Newton's feet did a few quick taps. Did he have to go? Artemis wondered if she should ask him if he needs privacy.
Before she could Artemis caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.
Artemis let out a whine. Oh great Colin has made his appearance and he has that mischief making smirk of his directed at her.
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v-yun · 8 days
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A coloured frame from this little animatic
Okay, so, funny storry, the hc I originally had for this piece (which you can find in this old post) has changed somewhat as I learned more about these characters and the various myths about them. Some of my initial assumptions before I learned this new information were just wrong, but I still kind of found a way to keep my HC in a slightly altered form:
Penelope did have suitors of her own, just not as many as Helen, but she definitely wasn't completely forgotten either. However, many of her suitors were the ones, who failed to win Helen, so Penelope was just the another available option for them, plus, since their motivation for marrying her was, unsurprisingly, mostly political and/or economical, the combination of all these things kind of led her to believe she just wouldn't get anyone devoted to her as a person and someone, who wouldn't consider her to be just a backup plan, after failing to become Helen's husband.
Until, of course, Odysseus comes along.
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