just another obssessed bitch

Summary: JJ spirals and Emily always knows just how to comfort her.

Fandom: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds Evolution

Relationships: Jennifer Jareau/Emily Prentiss

Rating: Mature

Additional Tags: Spoilers for CME s19e03, True Love, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soft, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Chapters: 1/1

Notes: I missed writing jemily and s19 inspires me so much.

She was tired, a deep exhaustion lied heavy in her bones. Tired of grieving, tired of being a single mother — she had never signed up for this.

Will was supposed to live, he was supposed to help Henry move into his dorm and teach Michael how to shave. That was the plan. How dare he abandon her, leaving her alone to take care of everything.

Above all, JJ was tired of the anger. It was familiar, bringing her back to a time her father walked out on the rest of his family after Rosalyn gave up on her little sister.

She’s in her forties now, no more a lost little kid waiting for her mommy to love her again. Yet, JJ feels that exact same anger bubbling beneath the surface of her skin.

She tries, God she tries, no to lose herself in the grief, to not let its grubby hands pull her under, drown her for years to come. The boys need her, and she owes it to them no to become a shell of herself like Sandy decades earlier.

JJ doesn’t want to be her mother, and she’s tried all her life to make up for the loss of her sister. Will she be able to make it up to the boys for the loss of their father? That’s not how it works, she knows that, they have therapists and tools to process, things their mother and grandmother didn’t have access to, things that might’ve saved them — and their relationship.

JJ doesn’t want her baby boys to become her, to feel like they have to somehow fulfill the shoes of the deceased. She wants them to be themselves. And for a second, JJ had genuinely thought she had succeeded. Until Penelope’s remark earlier this morning.

“JJ, I wasn’t trying to keep a secret from you and I know it’s been over a year but it just didn’t seemed appropriate for me to be… You know, spewing about my salacious paramour encounters to a-”

“A widow.”

JJ should’ve known better, she’s always miserably failing at everything. If Penelope has been walking on eggs around her, was everyone? The team? The boys?

Emily?

More than angry, JJ felt humiliated. Her own best friend hiding things from her because she tought she was too fragile to hear it. After everything they had gone through, when had they ever worked like that?

Embarrassment was what made JJ wait until her kids were asleep to tell Penelope she had to leave for a bit. Embarrassment took her to her car and straight to Emily’s apartment. Embarrassment had her knocking on the door and, the second it opened, embarrassment had her kissing Emily, all teeth and tongue, shoving the latter all the way down her chief’s throat.

The last time they’d done this, Emily wasn’t even Section Chief, her only responsibility was to drop to her fucking knees whenever JJ commanded her to.

Some days, she wonders if Emily remembers what she tastes like, if she gets off to it in the shower the same way JJ still does —the way she’s never been able to stop doing despite the guilt of cumming thinking about someone else while she was married. Happily married, of course.

She doesn’t want to think about her marriage right now. Now, all she wants is the one person who’s even more pathetic than she is. Emily understands embarrassment, and anger. She understands it so well she doesn’t even question it when JJ tell her to ‘lose the ugly pants’ and wordlessly gets naked, blooming under JJ’s watchful eye.

Their bodies have drastically changed since the last time they were together, but for some reason, JJ is the only person in the world Emily doesn’t fear judgment from.

And she knows she’s right when she sees the bitterness on JJ’s face immediately giving into hunger. In a way, this is why Emily never really felt jealous of Will. He might’ve had JJ’s hand in marriage, but that was solely for appearances, only because of cowardice and fear. He never had her love, not the way Emily did.

At the end of the day, JJ was hers, and she was JJ’s. Nothing else mattered, and no one else did either. It was them against the world, and that was the last coherent thought Emily had before JJ went down on her.

Fuck, how much she had missed JJ’s mouth on her, her hands caressing every inch of skin she could find and her eyes, oh her eyes never left Emily’s face.

From the second she saw them, Emily knew those blue eyes would ruin her. And she hadn’t been wrong, no even now as the unwavering intensity she found in them carried her all the way to climax, her dull fingertips trying their hardest to claw at JJ’s scalp like it would somehow secure her there, maybe even get her to never leave again.

God, they were so fucking pathetic.

For a minute, Emily struggled to steady her breathing. It has been so long since she’s come this hard, so long since the urge to bawl her eyes out was as strong as her orgasm. It was bad for her, she knew that, but being away from JJ was even worse.

When she tried to reciprocate, something inside JJ snapped and the energy of the room shifted. JJ wasn’t just angry and embarrassed, something more was happening.

It dawned onto Emily, JJ was scared. She didn’t come here to continue their usual game of using the other to gain back control, or to make sure they were as pitiful and lamentable as the other.

No. JJ came to Emily because she was scared, and she figured the safest place she could be was here, with her. A knot started to form in Emily’s throat —from the deer caught in headlights look on JJ’s face— she could tell JJ hadn’t even realized what she was doing.

Changing directions, Emily lied on her bed, back facing JJ. Praying the blonde wouldn’t choose to leave and run away from how well Emily knew her, how attune she was to her needs and how to approach her like you would a wounded animal, slow and steady as to not scare it away.

It took a minute more for JJ to understand what the hell had just happened, to recognize the opening and to not get as far away as she could from what Emily was offering; comfort.

JJ didn’t deserve comfort, she had failed as a friend and as a mother. As a wife too, no doubt. Comfort was overrated anyway, she couldn’t careless about not being deserving because she didn’t need it in the first place. She never had. Comfort is for weak people, she thought as she mentally prepared to get the hell out.

Fuck you, Emily

It was a mistake to come here, she didn’t need pity or sympathy. Least of all fucking comfort. Tears started painting JJ’s face, she coudln’t leave. Useless and weak, JJ froze. She could feel the panic rising within her, she was freezing, and there was nothing she could do, nowhere she could hide.

‘Give me something to do Emily, because I am starting to freeze up again.’ Emily remembered something JJ told her a few years ago, when she had no choice but to have every painful moments of her childhood dissected, opened and exposed for everyone else to see.

This was the same in a way, Will was dead and the way JJ chose to handle her grief was being dismembered and overanalyzed by everyone.

“Hold me, Jayje. We can stay here and just wait for it to pass.” She didn’t know what ‘it’ she was even referring to, but she didn’t care because it got her results anyway.

She felt the bed dip behind her, and in no time, a strong arm wrapped around her middle. Emily put on her hand on JJ’s and brought them to her lips, depositing a soft kiss on it before settling their joined hands as close to her heart as physically possible.

Goosebumps erected on her skin when she felt JJ’s shaky breath hit her neck. JJ kissed her cheek softly, so softly Emily knew she could choose to wait another decade to receive such tenderness and it would be worth it.

“Thank you, Emily.” JJ whispered. Any minute now, her heart could burst from how much love it had for Emily, and from how hard she tried to silence it all these years.

“You’ve got me, right? You haven’t given up on me, yet?” The trembling of her voice made Emily’s stomach twist.

“I’ve got you Jayje. And even if everyone’s given up on us, we pinky promised we wouldn’t give up on each other.” Emily intertwined their pinky fingers. “I don’t intend on breaking that promise any time soon. Do you?”

Summary: Mulder and Scully enjoy the beach, and each other’s presence.

Fandom: The X-Files

Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Soft, Banter, Post Season 9, Pre IWTB (but still using a pic from itwb because why not)

Chapters: 1/1

Notes: I just needed happy msr where nothing bad happens to them

“Will you rub it on my back?”

Mulder jumped into action, he couldn’t believe after all this time apart, they were finally here, together. Here wasn’t home home, they hadn’t gotten that lucky, but here was where Scully was, so for him, it was the only home he needed.

Maybe the only home he’s ever known. He feels guilty; being the reason she’s on the run too. Sometimes he feels like he’s only waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to blame him and throw all her resentment in his face.

“Stop thinking Mulder, okay? Can we just enjoy this for a moment, forget everything that’s going on around us and just be that; us?” Her tone is soft and gentle, and it goes right to his heart, it eases his mind and a wave of calmness washes over him.

The power she has over him — over his brain and nervous system— is terrifying sometimes, but it also makes him feel so good. To be loved is to be known, and to be known has to mean he’s loved. It’s a strange realization sometimes, the fact she could have anyone, but she chose him. She chose him over everything, quite literally.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try.” It’s not much, and she’s not searching for an apology but he wants — no, needs — her to know he’s trying his best, he’s trying to be the man that she deserves, the man they both know he could be if he could just managed to get out of his head.

“I know you're trying, Poopyhead.” He chuckles at the nickname; there’s a blast from the past. He fake pinches her side and laughs as she’s trying to squirm away. He loves them, he’s loved learning that they, too, can be fun. They have a heavy history, a past that wears them down at times, but they can also be this; a fun, lighthearted couple.

A couple.

Who would’ve thought they’d ever get there? Certainly not either of them.

“Mulder?” Scully pulls him out of his thoughts, he replies with a hum and lets out a giggle —that may or not may have been girlish— at what follows. “If you don’t apply that sunscreen on me in the next ten seconds I’ll no doubt be turning into a crawfish.”

He gets the message and opens the tube, squirts a considerate amount of product on his palm and, after putting it down on her towel, he rubs his palms. together, making sure they’re fully lathered in the sunscreen as to not miss a spot.

Mulder kisses each of Scully’s shoulders and sneak a quick kiss on her neck a little below her ear and the goosebumps that arise on her skin at the contact makes him smile goofily. He loves knowing he has this effect on her.

Deciding he’s made her wait long enough, he places both of his hands on her skin and makes sure to fully lather each patch of skin he finds on his path into a thick layer of sunscreen. He cringes a little at the amount of product she has to use, he’d never put even half of this on his body, but he knows she doesn’t really have a choice, he’s seen how quickly and ferociously the sun attacks her fragile, pale skin.

So if he has to pour the entire thing and reapply every two hours or so that she doesn’t get sunburned, then so be it. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the process, what’s not to like? Not only is he being useful, but he gets to touch Scully’s back, go under the string of her bikini top and every crevices of her neck, her arms, her hands and fingers — sometimes she even lets him do her front, he’s mindful of the fact they’re in public and knows not to be inappropriate but his dick always jumps everytime his hand grazes the skin of her chest.

His favorite part though is the stretch marks that have appeared after William’s birth. He knows she doesn’t like them, and having the constant reminder on her body is very hard on her. Beyond the sentimental significance, she sometimes complains that they’re ugly, and the sun only serves to make them prominent.

Mulder loves them, though; he spent innumerable hours kissing them, worshipping them like he does the rest of her body. He can’t help but steal a kiss everytime his hands are laying flat on her tummy; he wants her to know he loves her with everything he has, and that, despite what she may think, she doesn’t have anything to be forgiven for.

He admires her so much. She’s so strong, his Scully. He doesn’t know if he would’ve had the strength to make the right decision the way she did. After all, he does have the cripplingly bad habit to cling when he knows how necessary it is to let go.

“There you go, all set…For the next ten minutes, that is.” They chuckle at his joke. Scully replies with a deadpan ‘ha ha’ and they banter a little more, their very own form of flirtation. As they’re talking, Mulder watches her as she applies the sunscreen to her face. It’s in mundane moments like this that he gets hits with the violent need to ask for her hand in marriage. More than a piece of paper, he wants them to promise each other a forever.

He knows now is not the time, though, but one day it will be, so as he swallows the words back down with difficulty, he’s aware each time prepares him for the time. Despite the fact they’re technically wanted by the actual Federal Bureau of Investigation, Mulder feels as if they have all the time in the world.

When he forces himself back into the present moment, he notices Scully’s face has now absorbed the sunscreen and the sun, bless, has darkened Scully’s freckles. He feels his heart constrict at the sight, she is so beautiful he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have her, to be able to call her his. Above all, he can’t believe he’s finally hers.

“What?” Scully looks at him quizzically. He must’ve been staring for so long, he’s not surprised by the question.

“I love you.” He shrugs and tries not to want to throw up in happiness at the blushing in her cheeks every time they exchange those three words. They just say it now, no ‘Oh, brother’, no monsters to chase and leave the other to eat a cheese plate and wine all by herself. Those times are over; today he loves her, and he can just let her know, and vice versa.

This is who they are now, and the danger that closely follow their trails is nothing compared to the fear of not being able to be this version of themselves anymore. Sometimes, just sometimes, they both think they may not want to go back.

Summary: Scully obsesses over Mulder’s Adam’s apple, no plot just a shameless excuse to write smut.

Fandom: The X-Files

Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Rating: Mature

Additional Tags: PWP, Foreplay, Obsessive behavior, Fantasizing, Licking, Biting, Riding, Woman on top.

Chapters: 1/1

Notes: This story was based on this picture and this picture only

She’s always been obsessed with it. Years of observing it from below when she looked up to his face.

His face really is beautiful, perfect bone structure, smooth skin she’s sure would feel rugged if she were to touch where his stubble pokes through. Indeed, his face is perfect, but it doesn’t captivate her the way his Adam’s apple does.

She’s a scientist first and foremost, a physician. She knows all the functionalities of it, the ins and outs, what purpose it serves. Only a protusion in the neck formed by the angle of the thyroid cartilage that surrounds his larynx, she knows that.

She’s also Catholic, she knows all about the religious implications of said protusion. It’s ironic, that the physical proof of humanity’s first ever failure is what provokes a not so holy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The original sin; at the forefront of her mind, prompting daydreams of extramarital trangressions.

Knowing all this doesn’t help. For the first time, rationality and logic aren’t helping her, they just confuse her further. She knows, yet, like it was a new and different specimen, Mulder’s laryngeal prominence fascinates her to no end.

She longs to find out the secrets it holds, what the ridges of his cartilage would feel like under the pads of her fingertips. As she explored this part of him, would her tongue feel the tiny cut from an incident during his morning’s shaving ritual?

In a perfect world —the one she lets herself fall into in the safety of her bedsheets, her hand securely tucked into her underwear, reviewing the mental pictures she took and filed away during the day— Mulder would be a patient man. Docile and understanding, empathizing with her all consuming need, he’d allow her as much time as she’d need to conduct her very own research on him, beginning by her favorite part of his anatomy. He’d let her scrutinize him, study him with microscopic precision for all eternity.

In a perfect world, she’d get answers to the only truth that captivates her at the moment, the one that steals her breath and keeps her from sleeping. She’s a woman of science, she can’t bear uncertainty, can’t deal with hypotheses and deductions.

She needs.

The urgency only multiplies when the deep rumbling of his vocal chords make it out of his throat and echoes in her ears, shooting elecricity straight to her core. It’s the sweetest torture, to know his Adam’s apple is responsible for the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard, to know but not be able to see, to watch.

That’s a lie though, she does watch. She hides under the flimsy pretense of their height differences and she allows herself to watch. Observe intently as the object of her affection bops up and down in synchronicity with the words he’s pronouncing. Similarly to sign language, she thinks sometimes she’s learned the dictonnary of him; what words he’s pronouncing only by the way his skin moves according to the movements on his throat.

Scientifically, it’s not possible, but… she does work on the x-files, she’s had her fair share of having to open herself to extreme possibilities.

She’d open herself even further if that’s what Muldr wanted, if he gave her even the slightest of indication. He’d only have to open his door wide enough to let her in and she’d be the one unfolding like a flower. For him. Always for him.

Only for him. She likes to conjecture about him, what he would be like. Probably the first man who’d treat her with gentleness, careful enough not to damage or wilt her petals. In a perfect world, she’d agree to settle in his garden, forever, and he’d agree to be the key subject in her lab.

The comparaison is so nerdy it actually snaps her out of her thoughts. She realizes she hasn’t heard a word of whatever he’s said. She wonders if she can get away with it, like she’s previously done so many times.

“Are you okay, Scully?” Shit. No such luck this time.

“Just a little tired, but keep going I’m listening.” In a perfect world, she’d be telling him to keep going while he wasso deep inside her she’d have no doubts she’d be sore the next morning. He nods and keeps going, exactly like she told her too. He’s so obedient when he wants to, she finds herself daydreaming of yanking him by the tie to prove that theory.

Before she knows it, the conversation is over and he’s guiding them out of the office, his hand securely on her back. She’s grateful for the contact of course, but she still has to fight the disappointment that washes over her at losing sight of his neck.

See you next time, object of my desire, she thinks with a barely contained sigh.

—

And then one day, at last it happens.

Mulder is laying down on her bed and Scully is straddling him, one leg on each side of his hips. Similarly, her arms are on each side of his face, her hair acted as curtain protecting them from the outside world while they kissed. And kiss they did, after an intense make out session,Scully decides to start her exploration. Naturally, she knows she has to finally ceize the opportunity to quench her long time curiosity.

Depositing one more kiss on his soft, pillowy bottom lip, she makes her way to his Adam’s apple by peppering kisses over each patch of skin she finds until finally, she reaches her destination.

After swiping her hair to the side so it won’t tickle Mulder, she licks her lips in anticipation. She feels like she’s waited for this moment her entire life. And maybe she has, but now, the moment has finally come.

Scully’s tongue darts out of between her lips and establishes contact with his skin, right beneath where she actually wants it and, going as slowly as possible to make sure to enjoy each second of this experiment, she licks up a long strip until she feels herself going over the bump that has intrigued her for so long.

She repeats the process a couple times, and then starts nibbling, barely grating it with her teeth, like a dog wit a bone. Only more careful of course, she’s aware of how fragile it is, the end goal isn’t to hurt him, no, they have to be careful so they can enjoy this over and over. Given the noises Mulder is letting out, Scully know she won’t be the only one aching for a repeat performance.

It’s just as hot as she had imagined it, if not more.She can feel every ridge of his throat, the dips and bumps that sit right under a layer of skin that is so thin, it’s almost inexistant. The tought makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.

She takes some distance so she can process what just happened and her body involuntarily grinds on his tummy as she takes in the sight before her; Mulder is laying there, eyes closed, bated breath like he just ran for miles, and her saliva makes the part she’s payed attention to shine with the light coming from the ceiling. He's a vision, and before she can talk herself out of it, she goes back for seconds.

Instead of licking, she decides to change approach and starts applying some light suction, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, it does. So close to Mulder’s throat, she feels more than hears when he mumbles “Fuck, Scully” at the sudden change of tactic. She can almost taste the rumbling in his throat, the shaking of his vocal cords and the way his Adam’s apple bops up and down as he swallows his own saliva.

Scratch everything that has ever happened to her in her life, this sensation, the feeling of almost physically holding his moans in her mouth is the hottest thing she has ever experienced in her life.

She’s in awe, and she keeps expending her exploration of him until she can’t take it anymore, until she’s so wet, she’s powerless and has to succumb to her body’s desire. Her thirst for knowing now satisified, she takes him in her hand and connects them. Once he’s sheathed inside her, burried to the hilt in a way she’s sure will make her sore tomorrow morning, Scully rides him until she feels the tight coil at the pit of her stomach unravel, soon, she feels him exploding inside her, hot and heavy.

Seeing Mulder cum fascinates her — the fact they managed to get there after so long is a miracle on its own— but beyond that, she realizes she can’t tear her eyes away from his neck as he tries he grunts and moans, at the way he desperately tries to catch his breath. It’s beautiful, and only then she realizes that she had it all wrong.

Knowing for certain didn’t quench anything, on the contrary, it has made it all worse. She needs more, and she needs it now. Like he senses it, Mulder smiles at her, tells her he loves her, and simply presents his neck out to her.

Closing his eyes, Mulder loses himself in the sensation of her mouth on him. He knows she probably marked him, he hopes she did. He can’t help the feeling of pride that bursts in his chest; she wants him.

He’ll stay still and be good for her, bask in the unwavering and undivided attention she’s paying to parts of him he’s never thoughttwice about, all while wishing that she’ll want to study him for a long time.