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sprinkler-ashes · 8 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!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n

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my-castles-crumbling · 4 months

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~Gold Rush~

(I made the goal to write a new chapter for my longfic....so I wrote this instead.)

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush, I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush, I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch, Everybody wants you, Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you, Walk past, quick brush, 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

Regulus cannot have a crush on James Potter.

He just.....he can't, okay?

He can't be that person, the one who falls all over the popular, handsome, enigmatic Quidditch player. He can't be so weak as to become infatuated with the boy that everyone wants; the boy that everyone chases after.

He can't be that stupid.

He can't spend his days staring at tousled, dark hair and bright hazel eyes. He can't sit in class daydreaming about slow, gentle touches. Not when everyone else is doing the same thing.

He is smarter than that.

He is too smart to blush at knee-weakening grins and quick brushes of hands as they walk past each other. Too smart to think that it means anything.

He can't afford to think it means anything.

Not when the whole student body wants to love James Potter. Wants to know what it would be like to love and be loved by him.

And Regulus?

He can't dare to dream like this, not when he is who he is. Not when falling could quickly turn into something painful; something with a horrible end.

So he just...

He can't have a crush on James Potter.

Okay?

#marauders #harry potter #marauders era #marauders fandom #fanfic #harry potter marauders #regulus black kinnie #the marauders #jegulus #james fleamont potter #james potter #james x regulus #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #james potter x regulus black #james and regulus #regulus arcturus black #regulus black

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inejschumacher · 4 months

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Day 4 of Via’s Taycember

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

wc: 815

cw: references to sex, mention of death, kissing, arguments

Gleaming, twinkling eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting, I almost jump in

Seldom is one ever gifted the choice of manner of death. Yet, if you were ever the lucky recipient, you would drown yourself in the depthless, ever-loving eyes of Jude Bellingham.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush. I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush. I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. Everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.

It seemed, however, that you weren’t the only one to dream of such a desire. It felt as if every corner in the real world and online was filled with girls desperate for even a single second of eye contact, of the off-chance that if Jude ever left you, he’d choose one of them instead.

You’d struck gold, yet struggled to keep your anger in check every time a girl got too close and touchy with Jude, not trying to be the ruins in his sea of gold. You knew the wishes exchanged between girls, wondering what it would be like to truly have Jude love them, and how they could love Jude. Better than you could, anyway.

Walk past, quick brush. I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush. I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush.

Though it appeared that Jude knew exactly how you felt. Every time you were swarmed by a mob of girls, he always kept you close to him, a reassuring brush of his fingers or a kiss to keep you grounded. He knew what you needed in times like this, how to hold you in his arms or speak the words you needed from him. Take off the rose-coloured glasses, and everything was still the same.

Nightmares of falling away from him, or the daylight’s mirages of your relationship crumbling felt as if your heart was cast away in the skies until your feared reality of him crushing your heart out finally ground it. But the only thing he ever grounded was your mind, his love never faltering.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos

You ask him, wondering how such a pure soul only matured, retaining its ability to know how to love whomever its heart chose. You knew of so many women who claimed they were loved by their men, yet just a singular glimpse into their purported perfect porcelain lives uncovered a love so loveless, no arms to hold them as they shed their tears of sorrow, no volitional surprises of laundry done or dinner cooked.

Yet despite all the attention, it was you Jude kissed after every winning match, flushed from the joy and love of scoring goals and having you witness them from the closest of bleachers. He’d watch your hair fall back into place after tousling it with his hands as he pulled you in for a celebratory kiss. How perfect were you, for him? If only you could see how you’d also grown up a loving soul.

I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

After a night spent loving every part of you, leaving bruising lovebites down your collarbone and on your inner thighs, you’d cross his floors to clean yourself up as he brought the snacks. Enough times where you could picture such a scene with your Eagles t-shirt waiting on the door handle to be worn in bed, lying on top of him after another horrid day.

At dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit

His strong opinions when it came to what he was passionate about were enough to warrant initiating an argument at dinner with your families. Even the simplest of debates over football legends and loyalties would lead to his contrarian arguments. You had to be quick to recognize when one was about to occur, and quickly chastise him before things could get too out of hand and risk a ruined night.

My mind turns your life into folklore, I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Sometimes the fantasies of a peaceful life filled with love grew to consume you in such a way that you couldn't bear the reality of your relationship. You slowly felt yourself pulling away, trying in vain to assuage such feelings in your dreams and in your reality.

It wasn’t meant to harm, but you needed to understand what you really wanted, you supposed. Not spend your life encircling someone, being hidden in the thousands of others in Jude’s orbit.

At dinner parties won't call you out on your contrarian shit

It didn't seem necessary anymore, to spend time trying to quiet Jude. He deserved to be able to speak his mind as a celebrated footballer himself, he deserved to free himself from the constraints of politeness and conformity. Perhaps he was the one the otters should listen to, take in his words and experience, rather than make him a fool for speaking even the most intelligent of words.

And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it, 'cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea

You and Jude had always planned a little getaway to the Irish shores, to watch the waves crash against the rocky cliffs as you two walk down the coastlines hand-in-hand, free to ramble about whatever as you let go of your worries and duties for once.

As you gaze into your day-old Earl Grey tea, you let yourself picture what could have been. If you had let go of your inner turmoil and let Jude in. You once held his loving brown eyes, deeper than the ocean waters, in yours, grievings cast away into a darkness, but it was the one you chose to follow, filled with regret.

'Cause it will never be gleaming, twinkling eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting, I almost jump in

#via’s taycember #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #football fanfic #evermore #taylor swift #real madrid #Spotify #fanfic #fanfiction

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ab4eva · 1 year

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‘Gold Rush’

Summary: You and Elvis have a bit of fun after one of his Vegas shows. (Written with Big Daddy Elvis in mind but could also be any 70s Elvis, pick your poison)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ only. Smut, daddy kink, oral (m. receiving), p in v, angst, fluff, language, established relationship

Word count: 3k

Author’s note: Thanks to @jelliedonut for telling me to write this fic after I texted her pictures of 70s Elvis and went on and on about what I would do to him in one of those jumpsuits 😏 And thank you to my Lovely Ladies of Graceland - @aconflagrationofmyown @elvisabutler & @butlersxbirdy - for the workshopping, support, being sounding boards in general and especially to Birdy for the pics that started this whole thing off.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

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

Gold Rush - Taylor Swift

“Daddy?” you call out tentatively, stepping into the gold-gilded and opulent hotel room in the penthouse of the International Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. Your pink satin kitten heels sink into the plush emerald carpet as you cross the threshold into Elvis’s suite, still finding him nowhere in sight. You puzzle your eyebrows together as your mouth quirks up in question. Your curious eyes survey the room as you spin in a slow circle. “Daddy?” You call out again, placing your hands on your hips. Jerry said he was already in here, and you had ridden up the elevator together, so you know he can’t be far. Then it hits you, like a lightbulb going off. Oh. He was in one of those moods. That surprises you, given the circumstances. The man was full-grown but he still held onto his childish nature and sense of playfulness, something that never ceased to amaze you.

“Oh, Elvis…..” you say in a song-song voice, and slowly start to pace around the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” You hear a quiet snort of laughter from the other side of the room. Your lips curl into a smile - you had him now. Quietly you stalk towards the part of the room the laughter came from, slipping off your heels as you do so. There’s a corner of the window, hidden behind heavy curtains and guarded by the piano, that’s his favorite hiding spot, and you approach on tiptoe, ready to pounce. You lightly grasp the curtains and give them a fast tug.

“A-ha!” You crow gleefully. Your mind is momentarily confused at finding the window empty until you hear Elvis roar behind you, “Gotcha!” as he grabs you around the waist. You shriek and then start giggling as his strong arms tighten around you from behind. You feel his laugher more than hear it, it rumbles through your body and you both gasp for breath as you finally still in the quiet of the room. “Don’t scare me like that, Elvis!” You playfully swat at his arm and he grabs your hand and holds it in his.

“Come on now honey, you know I can’t resist a chance to make you squeal,” he says with a devilish tone in his voice. You see yourself and Elvis reflected in the hotel room window, 30 stories high, the lights of Las Vegas sparkling like a blanket of stars laid out at your feet. He’s still wearing the jumpsuit from the show he just finished, the softest creamy white embroidered with a brilliant gold and gemstone sunburst on the chest, looking ever so much like an Egyptian sun king brought back to life just for you. His black hair is mussed and sticking slightly to his forehead, the sweat on his skin now cooling in the air-conditioned suite. His lips turn up in a smile as his eyes meet yours in the glass and he nuzzles into your cheek, rough sideburns scratching you pleasantly and sending a spark of desire through your core. He places a large, warm palm over your heart, the cool metal of his rings make you jolt and the thin strap of your dress falls down your shoulder as he strokes your skin reverently. He’s pressing at your back and you lean into him, relishing the feel of his body wrapped so tightly against yours.

“Look at us, baby,” he whispers against your ear and you shiver a little in his arms. Six months ago when you stepped off the bus in Los Angeles, California, you would never have guessed you’d be here, in Elvis Presley’s arms. It must have been fate that brought you together - as corny as that sounded. You’d been caught in the rain - a torrential downpour was more like it - dragging your suitcase behind you, trying desperately to find a cab. You were wary when the black Cadillac pulled up next to you, window rolling down smoothly to reveal the King of Rock and Roll himself, hair perfectly coiffed and oversized shades tipped down his nose, revealing the bluest eyes you’d ever seen. You must have looked a mess, soaked through and shell-shocked. Elvis would never admit that’s what drew him to you in the first place as he cruised down Sunset Blvd. and saw you looking so lost and forlorn, like you hadn’t a friend in the world. He promised you then and there that he would take care of you, that you’d never be lost again. He had found you, and he intended to keep you.

Now his sparkling eyes reflecting in the window still hold a hint of playfulness from before and his hands begin to slowly move towards your hips. Your mouth parts in readiness, your nipples already beginning to harden under his lidded gaze. Until he tweaks you in your ticklish spot and you squeal, immediately curling away from him. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of your side as you giggle and gasp for breath.

“Daddy, please!” You manage to choke out through your laughter. His deft fingers, usually used in more pleasurable ways, continued their relentless onslaught, now reaching for the backs of your knees. You screech and manage to break free, running towards couch like your life depended on it. Elvis follows at a slower pace before stopping to lean on the couch and catch his breath, shaking with laughter and eyes filled with mirth.

“OK honey, OK,” he says, raising his hands up in the air. “I surrender. Pretty little baby’s too quick for Daddy.” You give him a triumphant grin and sit down on the couch, pulling your long legs up under you and patting the seat next to you. “Come let me take care of my sweet man,” you say. He makes no objection as he drops down beside you with a heavy grunt and leans his head back, a deep sigh escaping his pink lips. You rake your fingers through his dark hair, gently scratching his scalp as you do. He shivers a little and his eyes flutter closed, impossibly long eyelashes coming to rest on tan cheeks. You move to straddle him, itching for a better angle to tend to him, hiking your slip dress up around your thighs as you swing your leg over his body and settle in his lap. His mouth curves into a lopsided smile at the feel of your weight descending onto him but his eyes remain closed. He groans as your cool hands massage his head, thumbs circling his temples rhythmically, making him practically purr like a little kitten. Your big, strong man is putty in your hands and it sends a flush of pride through you. You can’t help but nibble a soft kiss on his inviting jaw, his pulse quickening under your touch. You see it beating wildly beneath flesh and bone and blood and place your mouth to the spot, feeling his steady thrum under your plush lips. You open your mouth and lick, ever so slowly, tasting salt and sweat and his own particular flavor, feeling his heartbeat pulse on your tongue. His hands move to your bare arms just below your shoulders, warm fingers gripping soft flesh and he begins to lazily stroke your skin, fingers dancing lightly, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“You’re so soft baby, never wanna let you go. Just wanna keep you right here in my lap, where you belong,” he murmurs against your hair and you feel so loved, so wanted you think your heart will burst wide open. He always knows exactly what you need to hear, the way you need to be touched.

Elvis’s breathing slows and he lifts his head a moment - eyes unfocused and slightly dazed - and you let out a little huff of pleasure as he relaxes again, his head heavy in your hands as your lips find his. You’ll never get over the feeling of kissing him - the way his mouth feels under yours, soft and pliant, the way his breath comes out in shallow little spurts, the way his plush bottom lip fits perfectly in-between yours. You toy with the zipper of his jumpsuit before slowly pulling it down little by little, revealing inch after inch of dark, swirling chest hair. You open it up just enough so that you can wiggle one of your arms inside and around his waist, his flesh hot and tacky to the touch. Laying your head on his chest and running your other hand through his chest hair, your elbow rests on the soft swell of his belly as you curl little tendrils around your finger and you snuggle your head underneath his chin as his fingers continue to graze you sweetly. His steady heartbeat lulls you for a minute until you feel a twitch beneath you, his already hardening cock straining against his jumpsuit and the thin cotton of your panties, damp with desire. You feel him raise his head and he looks at you then, eyes flashing the deepest navy, a look of intense desire burning inside. You know what he wants, what he needs, in this moment. He doesn’t have to ask, he doesn’t have to say a goddamn word. You just know.

You slither out of his lap with a smirk and sink to the floor where you kneel between his spread legs, never breaking eye contact. You place one hand on his chest as you grasp the zipper of his jumpsuit once again and bite your lip as you begin to slowly pull it further down. At last it’s open far enough for you to reach in and grab his steadily growing cock and he lets out a groan, placing his large hand over yours. He begins to move your hand with his, stroking up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace, the velvety skin dragging and pulling lightly with each tug. He squeezes your hand, forcing your fingers to contract around his girth and he lets out a quiet hiss.

“Just like that, little girl,” he breaths as the calloused fingers of his other hand slip the strap of your dress down your shoulder, the silk falling easily below your breast. He grasps your taut nipple, rolling it between his fingers, pressing lightly as he does. A shockwave runs through you, a whimper escapes your lips and your hand on his cock goes slack but it doesn’t stop moving, he doesn’t let it. His hand is still wrapped around yours, and he guides your fingers to his foreskin. You gently grip it and start to massage, his leaking head peeking through every now and again as the skin retracts. You caress it lovingly, looking up at him for approval. He nods, in a daze, “Feels so good baby, you’re making Daddy feel so good.” Your hand keeps up a steady pace but you’re growing impatient, wanting to feel his hot and heavy length in your mouth.

“What do you want me to do now, Daddy,” you say innocently, slipping your hand out from under his and off his throbbing member. You place your hands on his inner thighs, stroking up and down with the softest touch. His hips involuntarily buck up, his red, straining cock pressed against his stomach. His eyes shine with love and lust and hunger. His lip curls up into his signature smirk and it makes your insides flutter.

“You know what I want, darlin’,” he growls, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. Teasing Elvis is one of life’s little pleasures and you’re not about to rush through it. You need to hear the noises he makes when you’ve got him on the edge, and then over it. You crave the way his face looks as he finds his release, you’re jealous and selfish and want to keep it all for yourself. You bat your doe eyes at him and lower your mouth to his belly button, the coarse hair tickling your nose as you kiss and lick your way down his stomach. His hands tangle in your hair and the moment your mouth finally closes around his length, he grips your strands so tight you think he might actually pull some out. You work him lovingly, slowly, just how he likes it. Despite being sexually experienced when you met him, there are things Elvis has taught you, things you never would have known if he hadn’t taken the time to instruct you. You put it all to good use now, knowing he needs to relax after the headiness of his show, the absolute rocket ship that takes him to the moon and back, every night - twice.

“Darlin’,” he gasps as he pulls your mouth off of him, “Wait, I wanna…I need to come inside you. Don’t wanna do it alone, not tonight. Need to take care of you, too.”

“You’re so good to me, my love,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheek, scratching his sideburns a little with your nails, touched that he is thinking of you, even now, when his own pleasure is so close. You stand and reach for his hands, pulling him up. “Where do you want me, Daddy?” His hands circle your waist and he maneuvers you backwards, around the couch and towards back of of it. He spins you around easily so that you’re facing the couch, and he bends you over it, lifting your silky dress slowly, his fingers brushing your thighs as he does. It sets you quivering, already anticipating the feel of him inside you. He lifts your dress further and uses a fist to gather it at your back, as his other hand pulls your panties down and you step out of them dutifully. You lean over further, arms spanning the back of the couch, and you push your ass back against his pelvis, desperate for him. You hear him chuckle breathlessly as he pushes into you without warning, sliding home easily, the familiar feel of him grounding you. You groan as he begins to thrust, leaning over you and taking what he needs.

You feel his breath on your neck, feel his lips placing little kisses all along your shoulder before one of his arms crosses your chest and grasps your breast as he brings you up and holds you flush against him. You whimper and lean your head back on his shoulder as the fingers of his other hand finds your clit. “You close, little girl?”

“So close….I need…Elvis” you gasp at a particularly sharp thrust, “wanna to see your face.” He stutters to a stop, breathing heavily and slightly shaking with effort, before pulling out and spinning you around quickly to face him. He hooks one of your legs over his arm and rests it on the couch as he enters you again. You wrap your arms around his neck, and concentrate on his face, watching as his eyes droop in ecstasy and he bites down on his lower lip. High-pitched whines escape your lips as his movements jolt you forcefully against the couch. You can tell he’s getting close and a pain squeezes in your chest.

“Look at me,” you whisper, grabbing a handful of his hair, forcing his eyes to meet yours, and when they do there are tears in them. “Go ahead, baby. Fall apart for me…one last time. It’s ok.” The unshed tears spill down his cheeks and his eyes he tell you all of the things he cannot speak out loud. How he loves you so much it physically hurts. How he wishes you two could stay in this place forever, high above the stars on the 30th floor. How damn much he’s going to miss you. How sad he is that by this time next week he’ll be fucking a new girl right here, on this couch, and thinking of you and how you smell and taste and make him feel. He doesn’t say any of this, but that doesn’t matter. His heart tells yours all of these things and you hear every last one.

“I love you, Elvis Presley. You are good and kind and the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you say through your own tears, and you feel him tremble as his warmth fills you deep inside and you watch his face for the last time. You feel jealous and happy and devastated all at once. You did this to him, and the thought that someone else will see him this way soon shatters your heart into a thousand pieces. He kisses you then, deep and slow, the salt from your mingled tears fresh on your tongues as he slows his movements and you clench around him and come harder than you ever have before. It leaves you gasping. And then you’re sobbing, unable to hold it in any longer. You’ve been so strong for him tonight, like he needed you to be. He draws you tight against his chest, strong and sturdy, and you feel him crying, too.

Later, much later, as you’re lying awake in his arms, unable to sleep, wanting to cherish every fleeting moment you have with him, you feel him stir. You lift your head and rest it on his shoulder, and he looks over at you, the glint of his eyes flashing in the darkness and he lets out an amused snort.

“I was just thinkin, little girl…you think they’ll let lil ol’ me come to your big, fancy movie premiere?”

“I think that depends, Daddy,” you say playfully.

“On what, darlin’?”

“Well, on if the lead actress puts you on the list, of course!” You giggle and tickle him under the chin.

He growls and hugs you fiercely, pressing his cheek to your head and tears threaten your eyes again.

“You’ll always be on my list, Elvis,” you manage to whisper, “I’ll be lost without you.”

@eliseinmemphis @powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #gold rush #70s elvis #big daddy elvis #written by ab4eva

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bettdraws · 1 month

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Gold rush is an Elucien song

Not even taking into account the IMMACULATE aesthetic, I love seeing it from Elain’s perspective.

This song exudes reluctant lovers energy. Talking about how everyone desires this person, how scary it is to fall in love when you know it will only lead to breaking bones, how you don’t want to go through it again even though it will probably be all that you ever wanted.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Her being essentially jealous of other people’s attention while in the same breath saying she doesn’t like him.

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

This is so regency romance coded it makes me SOB.

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

If this isn’t a Lucien Vanserra description i don’t know what is.

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Please I need to get inside this woman’s mind. Headcanons of Elain just gathering information about Lucien is raging right now. Also, Lucien being essentially the epitome of fae, I imagine to Elain he came out straight from a fairy tale.

#elucien #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #gold rush #taylor swift x acotar #regency core #elucien aesthetic

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pinkorchidsinspring · 10 months

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I still haven’t gotten over the daisy socks, but this top is torturing my soul in the best way:

ROSES

She really said let me be so obvious- I love this

‘They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere, Chose the rose garden over Madison Square’ 🌹 The Lucky One, Red🌹

‘Now I'm feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress, Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard’ 🌹 MAATHBP, Lover 🌹

‘I can make all the tables turn, Rose garden filled with thorns’ 🌹 Blank Space, 1989 🌹

‘"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say, "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how"’ 🌹 Maroon, Midnights 🌹

‘We were something, don't you think so?, Rosé flowing with your chosen family’ 🌹 The 1, Folklore 🌹

‘You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway, Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us’🌹 Maroon, Midnights 🌹

‘Walk past, quick brush, I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush’ 🌹 Gold Rush, Evermore 🌹

‘And I want you right here, A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground’ 🌹 The Lakes 🌹

shall I go on?…

ROSES

#taylor swift #gay icons #gaylor swift #blondie #kaylor #tay tay #gaylor #karlie kloss #roses #rose #street wear #koincidence #koincidences #ts11 #we’re not prepared #Pinkorchidsinspringposts

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365-days-of-taylor-swift · 5 months

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❄️Back to December Challenge Day 12❄️

You can also find the general poll masterpost here and the prompt calendar for the challenge here 🩵

#back to december challenge #btd challenge #taylor swift #lyrics #polls #rose

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hughes43 · 1 year

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gold rush - trevor zegras

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

You were not the relationship type of girl. Your mindset was that your early 20s were to have fun - not to be tied down to a particular person. It felt easier this way especially in college, going out to parties and bars, meeting different people and going on dates. If anything the best-case scenario was that you made a friend and the worst was that you had a story to tell your roommates. Though your philosophy of ‘your 20s are for you and you only’ was not the sole reason for not having a boyfriend. Honestly, you didn't like opening yourself up in that way, the idea of having to intimately share your feelings made you sick.

You knew of Trevor of course, how could anyone not know Trevor? Although you’d never had the pleasure of meeting him until tonight that was. You were invited as a plus one to a party when you saw Trevor for the first time. He was surrounded by a large group, standing there with his head tilted back in laughter. Everyone looked to him like he was a god. The girls near him tried desperately to get just a small ounce of his attention, while some boys acted as though they had been his friends for years. The other boys looked at him with envy, either because every girl wanted him, or because they simply were not him.

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like a 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

The crowd around Trevor has dissipated slightly, enough for you to see your friends just behind him. With a drink in hand, you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his arm accidentally. “Sorry” you quickly mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. It felt like time had slowed, you glanced at him, just to find he was already staring. You felt the sickening butterflies in your stomach as he replied “it's okay, I was in your way, anyway”. You never gave him a second glance after that, there was no reason to, there were still people hanging off his every word, and Trevor stood there, looking as though he already knew this.

Despite your efforts to not look at him again, you found yourself glancing in his direction all through the night, more often than not he was looking at you too. At one point, right as you felt it was time to leave the party and go to bed, he walked over towards you. He sat down in the empty spot next to you, looking at you once before he spoke. “ you know there's this theory the movie cars is set, like way in the future, and the human race got wiped out by the super advanced technology. But cars were so advanced at that point with AI that they were able to take on the personalities of their previous owners. Isn't that like absolutely wild?” you stared at him, mouth slightly open for a couple of seconds before finally responding “are you high?” Trevor laughed, it was loud and infectious, you smiled at him. “No, I've fully sobered up actually”. The two of you spoke for a few minutes before a girl came up to Trevor asking to leave. He looked at you once more, you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach when he spoke to you “some friends and I are heading to a bar… do you want to join,” you thought about it, having enjoyed the time you spent just chatting it could be fun, but you knew if you went, you’d know you would end up like one of the girls who doted on him. He would be fine without you anyway. “Um thanks for the offer, but I'm gonna pass”. A shocked look flashed across his face breaking his confident facade. “Oh.. that's cool”. Trevor turned to walk away before second-guessing himself “Can I get your number.. I have a couple more cars theories I wanna talk about” you obliged, the girl from earlier furrowing her brows and giving you a once over, which you ignored. You didn't care anyway, confident and cocky boys weren't your type.

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

It had been a few weeks since that party and you and Trevor had texted frequently, he had become a good friend in that time. It was becoming apparent - much to your disgust you'd developed a crush on him. Your game plan with guys was often to act unattainable like you were hard to get, this went out the window with Trevor, you had even once changed your plans just to hang out with him. He would never find out about this though. You had tried to ignore these feelings, by trying to not spend time with him, or by going on dates with other boys but it never worked. He was constantly in your thoughts, day and night. You thought about how he has the type of confidence that you couldn't fake, you realised it was because he had grown up with it. He was talented and he knew it, he knew his hair looked good and he definitely knew his smile was the kind that made girls melt. You hated it. You hated it because you started to melt at the sight of it.

You had thought about what your life would look like if he were to be in it. The two of you would live happily in a house, near the beach. He would come home after games just to find you had fallen asleep trying to wait up. You liked to think about what the mornings would be like the most, waking up to his messy hair and sleep-ridden voice, something that would be just yours. But Trevor would never be just yours, right now, you were sharing him with every other girl, and you could not do anything about it. You were still lying to yourself, telling yourself that you would rather die than be in a relationship or actually talk about your feelings.

At dinner parties

I call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town

We wandered 'round had never

Seen a love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea

'Cause you know it could never be

There was obviously tension between the two of you. Everyone could see it, everyone except Trevor and yourself. He had invited you to a barbeque he and his roommate were having before the season started. Trevor had long abandoned the meat grilling in favour of talking to you. It was a lively discussion, and you weren't actually sure how it had gotten to this point but you found yourself looking at him in utter disbelief before laughing right in his face. “Why are you laughing at me? Im right”. You stared at him before collecting yourself to respond. “Trevor, it is NOT normal to stand in the shower as soon as you turn it on! You have to wait for it to heat up” Trevor tried to defend himself, but the whole group had heard you yell at him, his efforts were useless as everyone had chirped him for his strange habits. To anyone who didn't know the two of you, you would appear as a couple, to anyone who did know the two of you, you would be frustrated at the ignorance of the apparent chemistry.

Over time your feelings never quit, if anything they had grown, and your crush was now an unrequited love. Trevor had his lineup of girls, but none of them ever lasted over a month or so. you never wanted to put yourself and him in a position where your friendship would be ruined because he couldn't hold down a relationship and you could even talk about your feelings properly without changing the subject. You and Trevor would never be anything more than friends and you were okay with this. His phone lit up with a notification, you knew by the look on his face that is was the next girl in the line-up. It was easy for you to mask the disappointment, he was never yours, and he never would be. You would simply settle to exist in the same time and space as Trevor Zegras, and nothing more.

#trevor zegras #nhl #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #mine

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moonshine999 · 8 months

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The Crows as Taylor Swift albums (pt.3)

because sleep and sanity are out the fucking window

Jesper Fahey : 1989

🎞️ “Everybody here was someone else before // And you can want who you want // Boys and boys and girls and girls” - Welcome To New York

🎞️ “Nice to meet you, where you been? // I could show you incredible things // Magic, madness, heaven, sin // Saw you there and I thought // “Oh, my God, look at that face // You look like my next mistake // Love's a game, wanna play?"” - Blank Space

🎞️ “And when we go crashing down, we come back every time // ‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style” - Style

🎞️ “You took a Polaroid of us // Then discovered (Then discovered) // The rest of the world was black and white // But we were in screaming colour” - Out of the Woods

🎞️ “I said, "No one has to know what we do" // His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room // And his voice is a familiar sound” ��- Wildest Dreams

🎞️ “Tossing, turning // Struggled through the night with someone new // And I could go on and on, on and on // Lantern, burning // Flickered in the night, only you // But you were still gone, gone, gone” - This Love

🎞️ “Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it // My love // They are the hunters, we are the foxes // And we run” - I Know Places

🎞️ “Ten months sober, I must admit // Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it // Ten months older, I won't give in //Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it“ - Clean

🎞️ “Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? // Ooh, didn't it all seem new and exciting? //I felt your arms twistin' around me” - Wonderland

🎞️ “No proof, one touch // But you felt enough // You can hear it in the silence, silence, you // You can feel it on the way home, way home, you // You can see it // with the lights out, lights out // You are in love, true love” - You Are In Love

🎞️ “You keep his shirt // He keeps his word // And for once, you let go // Of your fears and your ghosts // One step, not much // But it said enough” - You Are In Love

🎞️ “And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars // And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words” - You Are In Love

🎞️ “‘Cause baby, I could build a castle // Out of all the bricks they threw at me // And every day is like a battle // But every night with us is like a dream // It's poker // He can't see it in my face // But I'm about to play my Ace (ah) // We need love // But all we want is danger // We team up // Then switch sides like a record changer // The rumors are terrible and cruel //But honey, most of them are true” - New Romantics

🎞️ “Baby, we're the new romantics // Come on, come along with me // Heartbreak is the national anthem // We sing it proudly // We are too busy dancing // To get knocked off our feet // Baby, we're the new romantics // The best people in life are free” - New Romantics

Wylan Van Eck Hendriks : Evermore

🍂 “You know that my train could take you home // Anywhere else is hollow // Begging for you to take my hand // Wreck my plans // That's my man” - willow

🍂 “How evergreen, our group of friends // Don't think we'll say that word again // And soon thev'll have the nerve to deck the halls // That we once walked through” - champagne problems

🍂 “I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush // I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch // Everybody wants you // Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you // Walk past, quick brush // 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” - gold rush

🍂 “I notice everything you do or don't do // You're so much older and wiser, and I // I wait by the door like I'm just a kid // Use my best colors for your portrait // Lay the table with the fancy shit // And watch you tolerate it // If it's all in my head, tell me now // Tell me I've got it wrong somehow // I know my love should be celebrated // But you tolerate it” - tolerate it

🍂 “He reports his missing wife // And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires // And his mistress moved in // Sleeps in Este's bed and everything // No, there ain't no doubt // Somebody's gotta catch him out” - no body, no crime

🍂 “Showed you all of my hiding spots // I was dancing when the music stopped// And in the disbelief // I can't face reinvention // I haven't met the new me yet “ - happiness

🍂 “Break my soul in two looking for you // But you're right here // If I can't relate to you anymore // Then who am I related to?” - coney island

🍂”You're a cowboy like me // Perched in the dark // Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear // Like it could be love // I could be the way forward // Only if they pay for it” - cowboy like me

🍂 “When I dropped my sword // I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door // And we live in peace // But if someone comes at us // This time, I'm ready” - long story short

🍂 “Long story short, it was a bad time // Long story short, I survived” - long story short

🍂 “‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me // Watched as you signed your name Marjorie // All your closets of backlogged dreams // And how you left them all to me” - marjorie

🍂 “You're alive, so alive // And if I didn't know better // I'd think you were singing to me now // If I didn't know better // I'd think you were still around” - marjorie

🍂 “It cut deep to know ya // Right to the bone // Yes, I got your letter // Yes, I'm doing better // I know that it's over // I don't need your closure” - closure

🍂 “And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost) // I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now) // In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?) // I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again)” - evermore

🍂 “Sometimes giving up is the strong thing // Sometimes to run is the brave thing // Sometimes walking out is the one thing // That will find you the right thing” - it’s time to go

🍂 “Now he sits on his throne in his palace of bones // Praying to his greed // He's got my past frozen behind glass // But I've got me” - it’s time to go

(Kaz, Inej, Matthias and Nina are already posted)

#grishaverse #six of crows #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #wylan x jesper #jesper fahey #taylor swift #swifties #evermore #1989 #love the fact that my otp is #Completely in line with my two favourite albums #who would have thunk it #otp #wesper #the crows as taylor swift albums

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mikelogan · 5 months

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pick based on whatever criteria you want, whether it's the color, the song, or the lyric itself!

all albums

#tswiftcolor #my polls #taylor swift #evermore #gold rush #happiness #coney island #ivy #long story short #marjorie #right where you left me

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kwyw · 4 months

Note

Was there a moment recently when you actually became certain K and T are together or did you always had the feeling they've never broken up for good?

It was many things for me. They all go together to make one ginormous proof that shows they’re still in each other’s lives.

For me, I think the two biggest things that sealed it for me when I joined this fandom was the turkey baster/proud of your buns posts (plus many others in that first link) days apart from each other around the exact same time Karlie would have found out she was pregnant, and the rose dresses.

#kaylor #rose dresses #buns #turkey baster

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 1 year

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Might do a version with other singers

Alex I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere / Screaming “who could ever leave me, darling" but who could stay? / I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden / They all wanna be ya, but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / They say home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives / I search the party of better bodies, just to learn that my dreams aren't rare / They see right through me, I see right through me / And I screamed for whatever it's worth, “I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? / Karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me Claremont-Diaz

and

Henry With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief / Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? / I know better, but I still feel you all around / You are not like the regulars, the masquerade revelers, drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten / To you I can admit, than I’m just too soft for all of it / I’m the one who burned us / I looked around in a blood-soaked gown, and I saw something they can't take away / All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting / And they’ll tell you now you’re the lucky one Fox

and

June Something different bloomed, writing in my room / He was sunshine, I was midnight rain / Lord, what will become of me once I've lost my novelty? / It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you / Could all be separated from my good ideas and power moves? / You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless / I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush / I jump from the train, I ride off alone / I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this Claremont-Diaz

and

Nora I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say / I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost / What's a girl gonna do? A diamond's gotta shine / Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room? / Baby, we're the new romantics. The best people in life are free / You don't know about me, but I'll bet you want to / And I got that red lip classic thing that you like / Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend / I’m so sick of running as fast as I can Holleran

and

Pez When I walk in the room, I can still make the whole place shimmer / Swear to be overdramatic and true / He got that boyish look that I like in a man / You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back / I'll be summer sun for you forever / And when you find everything you looked for, I hope your life will lead you back to my door / He smiles, it’s like the radio / I love each freckle on your face / What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me nothing was gonna stop me Okonjo

and

Bea What a shame she went mad / I should've asked you how to be, asked you to write it down for me / I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror / Got the radio on, my old blue jeans / And by the way, I’m going out tonight / Karma’s gonna track you down, step by step, from town to town / Everything you lose is a step you take / If a man talks shit then I owe him nothing / All your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me Fox

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #red white & royal blue #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #pez okonjo #bea fox mountchristen windsor #taylor swift

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introverted-author · 8 months

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Gold Rush

Five times JJ didn't realise that Emily was in love with her and one time she did. | Written for @prentiss-theorem bingo. Fulfills the prompt '5+1'

word count: 3860

tw: unrequited love, mention of being shot, mentions of brands + being staked, non-descriptive very mild smut, mentions of torture + hospital, IVs and burns

One.

But I don't like a gold rush

Emily felt numb. Sitting there in the jet, she stared intently out the window, practically willing the unshed tears to come. They refused. Instead they remained on the inside, flooding her heart with emotions too big and too heavy to ever possibly name. All she could see was that child’s face: Carrie. All the pain that she had endured. Emily saw the future together that she had envisioned when she first locked eyes with the orphan in the hospital. But now every last moment had been snatched away and given to someone else to share.

Emily was startled out of her thoughts by movement in the corner of her eye. She tensed, apprehension twisting in her stomach, a spark that ignited a flame of worry - she didn’t want to talk now. Not to anyone. Not about this. She couldn’t-

Ocean-blue eyes doused the flames almost as quickly as they had arisen. The silent watcher was none other than Jennifer Jareau. Her hair was golden; the gold that so many rushed after. And to talk to this golden goddess… maybe Emily could do that.

“You okay?” asked JJ, her words liquid honey.

Emily searched for an answer, scrambling for something to say to the thought-halting woman in front of her. She eventually got out, “Yeah.”

Yeah. Was it a lie? Probably. Concern flickered across JJ’s face before she quickly erased it, returning her features to their natural state. Emily knew then that her facade could not fool JJ. The two held eye contact, each daring the other to speak first. Emily knew that if she opened her mouth, all that would come out was tears. And Emily didn’t cry in front of people, let alone in front of Jennifer Jareau.

“They’re good people. Carrie’s new family.”

Emily pushed the tears down and forced a fake smile. “Good. I’m glad.”

JJ smiled sadly, clearly more attuned to her friend’s feelings than Emily had thought. Emily hated it. She loved it. She wanted to run. But she was stuck in this chair, unable to move a muscle as she sat in the attention of the goddess.

“I think it’s a good idea though,” JJ spoke again, spinning webs of opulence with each syllable.

“What’s that?”

“You. Kids.”

Emily felt a blush creeping up her neck from JJ’s words. She couldn’t help but picture it: her and JJ, sitting in the sun of the park, picnic blanket under them as they watched two small versions of themselves chase each other on the grass.

JJ spoke again, tearing Emily out of the vision. “I can see it.”

You could never see this vision though, JJ. Emily knew that JJ would never share that dream with her - just like with Carrie, JJ was fated to share those moments with the man of her dreams. JJ’s golden prize.

But Emily didn’t - couldn’t - say any of that. So she just settled for, “Yeah?”

JJ nodded as Emily’s heart fractured that tiny bit more. Because it could never be. Not like she had pictured it. Not with JJ.

Emily returned to staring out the window, but this time instead of willing tears to come, she was pleading them to stay back.

Two.

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

Garcia was dying. That was the horrible, terrible truth.

Emily had been at home when she got ‘The Call’. She had dropped her glass of wine right there on her apartment floor. Maroon liquid had splashed onto laminated wood, leaving a pattern not too unlike that of blood. The image was seared into Emily’s retinas; every time she blinked, she saw blood. Blood. Garcia was going to die and all Emily could see was blood.

Emily had arrived at the ER in a confused blur, almost running straight into Hotch’s torso as she frantically searched the waiting room for the BAU. Emily spluttered out an apology, ever grateful for Hotch’s steadying, comforting squeeze to her shoulder.

JJ was next to her side, enveloping Emily in her arms. Emily wasn’t sure if she was comforting her or herself. But she couldn’t bring herself to care, wrapped in the arms of her love like a warm blanket on a freezing night.

When JJ pulled away, Emily instantly felt a pang of guilt, like a knife through her gut. Garcia was dying. And yet JJ was at the forefront of her mind.

Stop it, Prentiss, she hissed to herself, digging nails into the flesh of her palm. The pain was grounding, punishing and perfect. The pain was the only thing stopping her from falling apart right then and there.

“What do we know?” Reid’s question pulled her out of her thoughts and slammed her back into her body and the present moment.

“Police think it was a botched robbery,” said Hotch, the frown lines in his forehead deeper than Emily had ever seen them.

Emily at that moment realised that there was someone missing from their group, the most important person in the current situation. “Where’s Morgan?”

Words of liquid gold met her ears, “He’s not answering his cell.”

Emily turned her attention to JJ, taking in every inch of the woman, every curve and imperfection. She drank in her eyes, so like sinking ships on inviting waters, desperately trying to drown the flames of worry with the tranquillity of JJ’s eyes. JJ’s here. It’s alright. JJ’s here.

Conversation continued around them but Emily didn’t register a syllable. She was too focused on keeping herself calm, keeping herself focused on JJ. JJ turned curious eyes to Emily’s and she started in surprise and guilt, tearing her eyes away. This wasn’t the time for pointless wanting.

JJ announced that she was going to go ask at the desk for an update, yet again. The others murmured in quiet agreement. As JJ walked away, Emily couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting back to golden hair glowing in the fluorescent hospital light. However, she was quick to avert her gaze as soon as JJ turned back to return to the group of anxious agents.

“They can’t give me an update,” she sighed as Emily’s stomach plummeted with dread.

Garcia was going to die, Garcia was going to die, she was going to die-

“Morgan’s phone just keeps going to voicemail,” Reid voiced.

“Where the hell is he?” Emily snapped, pinpricks of tears stinging her eyes. The entire team’s attention turned to her as Emily inwardly swore. And then JJ stepped forward, taking Emily by the shoulders and gently guiding her to a seat in the corner, away from prying eyes.

The two sat in silence. Emily silently cried, tears noiselessly trailing down her face. JJ’s eyes were distant and sad. She was trying to act strong for her friend but clearly was in a similar state of emotional upheaval. Emily turned her head to take in the goddess beside her whose wings were battered and torn; a fallen angel.

Emily reached out her hand, gently taking hold of JJ’s. JJ interlocked their fingers as Emily’s pulse sped up, electric sparks flying from their joined hands. JJ gently squeezed Emily’s hand. A golden promise. Everything would be okay.

Emily found herself opening her mouth, emitting a barely audible ‘thank you’.

“Of course. You’re my best friend Emily.”

Just like that, JJ took Emily’s rose-tinted glasses and shattered them under the heel of her boot.

Three.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

It had been a week of heartbreak. A week of watching JJ, her JJ, with that detective, Will. Emily had felt it from the moment he had stepped into the room. JJ was so distracted, so lovestruck. And Emily was left standing there, forgotten like cold tea. That was how the week had gone. An endless blur of tears, longing, and angered whispers only loud enough for Emily alone to hear.

And now the case was over. The team was preparing to leave. Emily should have been packing up boxes of files or preparing her go bag for the flight back to Quantico. But instead she found herself standing in the shadows of the bullpen, observing her goddess as she spoke to the man from hell.

Emily couldn’t pick up on any words. All that she could hear was the gentle cadence of JJ’s voice, harshly offset by a heavy western drawl that was reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. She felt a sharp pang in her chest as JJ laughed softly, clearly giddy as she lost herself in the eyes of William LaMontagne. Emily nearly screamed when she saw Will lean in the smallest amount before bidding JJ goodbye and scurrying away.

He couldn’t even bring himself to kiss her. JJ deserved so much better. JJ deserved her. But then Emily saw the hurt in JJ’s eyes and found herself crashing back into reality. Emily could never have JJ. But if she couldn’t have her… JJ still deserved happiness. Even as much as she hated Will, she could never deny JJ that happiness. She hated it with every fibre of her being. But nonetheless, she had to let the gold rush proceed.

Emily found herself moving as if she was in a dream. She saw herself walk across the room to the golden angel’s side. She took a breath. And another. And then she opened her mouth to speak and damned all of her secret dreams and desires to the grave.

“You should go for him.”

JJ didn’t respond for a moment, too lost in her own desires. “What?”

Pretending that her whole being wasn’t dying, Emily said, “You’d make a cute couple.”

The corners of JJ’s mouth twitched up slightly, the woman wringing her hands before taking a deep breath. “You know what…?”

As if the director had called action, life slammed back into JJ’s body and she sprinted away. JJ sprinted away from all that could have been, away from Emily. At that moment she had made her choice. And as Emily watched her golden goddess kiss the demon from hell… Emily knew that it was over.

She was barely aware of Reid’s comment, of Morgan’s teasing jeers. She barely managed to mutter an excuse before walking away perhaps a little too quickly, finding the nearest empty corner and sinking into pure despair.

Four.

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

The jet was somewhat comforting to Emily. Sure it was an Interpol jet, not the BAU jet, and sure the brand on her chest was burning as if it was fresh but… Emily sat there on the couch with JJ right beside her and for the first time since she had seen that damn flower in her apartment, maybe she finally… maybe she finally believed that everything would be alright.

Emily winced as the brand twinged again, ever desperate to remind its owner of its presence. Ever desperate to remind Emily that Doyle was still out there. Not even JJ could soothe her anxiety. And the worried aura that surrounded the golden goddess announced that JJ was feeling the exact same. But there was something else in JJ’s eyes; something that the rational part of Emily’s mind couldn’t explain.

Unable to bear the loaded silence for a second longer, Emily said, “The first thing I'm doing when we get to Paris is having this removed. How could a brand hurt more than getting staked?”

She tried to say the question playfully, lightly, as if it was simply the latest gossip shared over a cup of coffee. However, she knew as soon as her words landed that she had in no way been successful; JJ’s frown only deepened.

“Maybe it's a psychosomatic itch you're scratching?” JJ asked cautiously, taking care in how she stoked the inevitable flame of emotion. “The brand left an emotional toll, Doyle established dominance over you by marking you as his. The stake... I mean, you overcame death. The ultimate victory over your foe. Why suffer a pain you're proud of?”

But right now the pain of the brand was dwindling, overtaken by another pain. An emotional pain that Emily was in no way proud of. A longing, a childish desire. But Emily could never voice that, so instead they just lapsed into silence. One beat. Two. Three.

“Or you could just get another tattoo,” the golden one shrugged.

Emily laughed at that, shaking her head in embarrassment. No one was ever meant to know about her tattoos, let alone JJ. “No.”

“Yeah, something transformative, like a... a phoenix.”

Emily rolled her eyes, all too happy to bask in the playful banter that let her forget about Doyle. Let her forget about why she was on this plane to Paris. Let her forget about what she would be leaving behind. Or rather who.

“Or what about a blackbird?”

Emily smiled at that, imagining a small blackbird engraved on her skin. She didn’t mind it. “I love the song. But something tells me I shouldn't tread in your waters.”

JJ shifted at that, blue eyes unable to meet Emily’s dark gaze. A tiny spark of hope ignited in Emily’s chest. There was a hint of something else, something that she had never dared to hope for, yet something she had often imagined.

“Come on JJ,” she probed further. “Something's obviously different-”

Before Emily could even finish her sentence, golden lips were on hers and just like that, she took flight. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was wrong. She knew that JJ would never leave Will. She knew that whatever JJ’s motivations were, they weren’t good. But maybe Emily just needed the escape that JJ would bring. Whatever the reason, Emily didn’t refuse as JJ bestowed upon her the most priceless gift that she could bring.

…

Paris was like something out of a dream.

Emily had found herself twisted in bedsheets with JJ in a haze of expensive wine and spilled truths. Emily was on wings, JJ the songbird to her blackbird. She wasn’t quite sure how they had gotten there. She wasn’t quite sure why JJ was even kissing her. But she knew that no matter her motivations, no matter how twisted it could be, JJ was kissing her. And right now that one truth trumped all.

Every touch, every whisper put Doyle further from her mind and brought a welcome clarity. She was flying, flying, flying. Emily turned every precious moment into a song; a folk song to be passed down through the generations; a folk song about their burning love.

Emily couldn’t believe that her dreams were coming true. Her golden goddess was touching her, loving her. It was all too exhilarating and Emily found herself lost for words as JJ worked pleasure into every corner of her body. When she hit her peak she lost herself completely, reaching high to the very moon on her wings of ecstasy.

Emily could see as JJ pulled away that war was waging in her mind. She could see the sudden realisation of what she had done, the guilt and horror. She had just cheated on Will and that was all that she was aware of. Emily’s wishes, Emily’s dreams were nothing to her. They never would be. And Emily should have been smart enough to know that from the very first touch of golden lips.

Perhaps JJ had realised her feelings when Emily had almost died. Perhaps she had finally worked out how to express her desires. Or maybe she had just finally seen an opportunity where they would not be interrupted. Regardless of JJ’s reasons, Emily knew that she loved Will first. Will was who she loved. And Emily would never be him.

Emily hit the ground hard as her wings finally faltered. Yet even her clipped wings couldn’t stop her from going to the nearest tattoo parlour the next day and requesting a blackbird.

Five.

And then it fades into the grey of my day old tea

Weddings were meant to be the most joyous occasion, a celebration of life and love. So why did Emily feel as if she was preparing for a funeral? Maybe, in a way, she was. It was time at long last to bury her unspoken feelings, to release them into the sea, never to return. And then she would leave. Leave everything behind. Leave JJ. Because ever since Paris, working with JJ was becoming a near impossible, torturous task. So when she had been offered the job at Interpol, her response was instantaneous. Yes.

She looked at herself in her bathroom mirror as she put in her earrings, barely able to recognise the stranger in the mirror. Ever since Doyle, her life had been falling apart. Ever since Paris… Paris had tilted her world on its axis and JJ had been acting like nothing had ever happened. The online Scrabble they had played while she flicked from address to address, terrified that Doyle would find her… JJ had gone straight back to acting like she always had, just a friend. And Emily hated it.

She went through the motions of getting ready in a melancholy haze. She must have spent minutes just standing in front of her car door, trying to make her hands move.

Get in the damn car, Prentiss.

Emily had never experienced a longer, more soul crushing car journey.

…

JJ was beautiful.

That was the only thought that Emily found herself capable of as she watched her goddess walk down the aisle, her smile brighter than any that Emily could ever give her. Emily forced herself to mirror that smile, true emotions be damned. Emily truly loved JJ so why couldn’t she be happy for her? Happy for the love that she had found, happy for the wonderful husband that Emily knew she’d have in Will?

Golden rings glinted in the moonlight as Will took one from the pillow that Henry was bearing. A golden ring for a golden girl. As Will slipped it onto JJ’s finger, the gold seemed to be mocking Emily, laughing in her face. The angel and the devil kissed, such a jarring pair. Emily had never felt such blazing fury, such insatiable longing and such bittersweet heartbreak ever before.

Emily would spend the night with her friends and she would cherish her final moments with those who had been her family when her own couldn’t even acknowledge her. Emily would dance with Hotch and laugh with Reid. She would join in Rossi’s toast, raising her glass high. She would let Garcia shed bittersweet tears on her shoulder and banter with Morgan. She would fight back the tears so desperate to break free and enjoy her last night with the BAU. She had to.

At one point in the evening, Emily found herself on the sidelines, watching as the new couple danced in the silver moonlight, golden rings still taunting her with every flash of metal. JJ’s gaze parted for just a moment from her husband, landing on Emily. JJ imparted her final words to Emily, communicating with only those rich blue eyes. I’m sorry.

The gold rush was over.

Six.

'Cause you know it could never be

JJ woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing and a scream escaping her lips before she could hold it back. For a moment, she was back there; in that room, wrists aching from bruising metal and pain ripping through her nerves as electricity jolted down her body.

“JJ! Hey, no, it’s okay, Jayje-”

JJ’s eyes adjusted to the low light of the room to see none other than Emily Prentiss standing before her, her hands out in front of her, calming JJ as though she was a spooked horse. JJ felt her heart rate begin to slow as she became aware of her surroundings. She was in a hospital room, machines lightly beeping as they monitored her body. Cold fluid was flowing into her arm through an IV and her burns - though still painful - were dulled by the pain medication that must have been administered to her.

She was here. Emily was here. She was safe.

JJ reached tired arms out to pull her closest friend into an embrace. JJ didn’t trust herself to talk right now. So she tried to put everything - her gratitude, her terror - into the hug. JJ knew that Emily would understand. The two of them were thick as thieves, as close as brothers. And there was no one she would have rather been there as she awakened.

The hug went on until JJ’s arms couldn’t bear it any longer and she let them go limp, arms falling back to her sides as they ached like hell. Emily smiled sadly and pulled a chair right up to the bed, her hand slipping into JJ’s. JJ held it tight; it was her anchor to the world while the stormy waves kept trying to drag her back to that godforsaken room.

JJ didn’t know how long she and Emily held eye contact. JJ found something comforting in the gleaming browns of her best friend’s eyes. There was a promise that JJ couldn’t quite explain. A promise that was the reason she was finally safe, finally free from Askari.

“You came. All the way from London,” JJ said, shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that her best friend’s love for her ran so deep. And she knew how lucky she was to have a friend as great as Emily. “Emily…”

“You would do the same for me. You did the same for me,” Emily said, bringing JJ’s mind back to three years ago when their roles had been reversed.

“Emily, I was in the same state. But you came from London. London. Why?”

Because as much as JJ would like to have believed, platonic love didn’t ever run that deep. And perhaps JJ was bordering on a realisation that she didn’t, under any circumstances, want to have. The silence stretched on, JJ silently daring Emily to say exactly what the blonde was so afraid to hear.

“I needed to keep you safe,” Emily said after what felt like an eternity. “I… I couldn’t live without you.”

At that moment, everything fell into place. Every small glance, every small touch, Emily’s reactions to Will, Paris. Oh fuck, Paris. A collage of moments from the entirety of their friendship formed a final image that showed one truth.

“JJ… I love you.”

“I know… I know.”

Emily sat there, eyes void of emotion as JJ’s words found a home in her heart. She blinked, face blank, clearly trying to process what had just been said. JJ saw her heart drop like a glass of wine, shattering into tiny shards on the hard hospital floor.

JJ had to say something. Quick. “Emily, I-”

Emily was already standing, pulling her coat on and grabbing her things. “I’m sorry, JJ. I… I’m sorry.”

“Emily, wait!”

It was too late. Emily Prentiss had already left.

#raeswritingbingo #jemily #criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jemily fanfic #angst #willifer #will lamontagne #gold rush #evermore #crossposted on ao3

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