#emily blunt x reader

[mahoganygold213]

96th Academy Awards - March 10, 2024

#academy awards 2024 #oscars 2024 #oppenheimer #best actor #best supporting actor #best director #best score #best cinematography #best picture #best editing #fantastic movie #cinephile #cillian x reader #robert downey jr #christopher nolan #ludwig goransson #emma thomas #hoyte van hoytema #jennifer lame #oppenheimer cast #emily blunt #florence pugh #matt damon #josh hartnett #david krumholtz #atelier versace

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: Reader is in love with Miranda Priestly, and hasn't told her yet although the entirety of Runway has guessed. How would Miranda react if reader and her are stuck in an elevator together and reader ends up fainting in her arms?

I love it! I was inspired by the line Miranda says to Andy about smacking her little head on the pavement lol. Let’s get into it!

Your feelings for Miranda Priestly seem to be an open secret among the Runway staff. You… Don’t have a very good poker face. While Emily frantically scurrying behind Miranda as she rattles off daily tasks to the redhead has become a long-running joke in the office… You kind of just stare shamelessly at the Editor-in-Chief’s bottom whenever you follow her. People often quirk knowing eyebrows at their co-workers as they witness your apparent obsession with Miranda’s backside.

“Guess we know for sure that Y/N’s team ass,” An intern says to a group of her peers one morning, cracking them all up after you and Miranda walk by (And the editor is no longer within hearing distance).

It’s also not hard to pick up on the way you act like a total idiot around Miranda and trip over your words whenever she asks you a question. It’s a wonder she hasn’t gotten fed up with you and canned you yet.

Emily and Nigel just love to tease you too. “So, when are you planning to propose, Y/N? I’d like a heads up if you expect me to do a decent wedding spread for next month’s issue,” Nigel smirks as he leans against your desk.

You tilt your head in confusion at him as you try to work. “Uh… Propose?” You ask.

“Of course, Y/N. Don’t tell me you haven’t planned on asking Miranda to marry you,” He grins.

Your cheeks burn harshly at this. “Wh-what?!” You splutter.

Emily can’t help but join in. “Give them time, Nigel. They’ll have to fish out the ring from a box of cereal first,” She giggles.

The two laugh their asses off at this.

You huff and try to just get back to work. It’s not your fault that Miranda’s a literal goddess. How are you expected to not have a gay panic attack every second of the day when Miranda’s sitting no more than ten feet from your desk?

Today has been busy as hell. Well, more so than usual, at least. You’re currently on your way to pick up some crucial documents for Miranda when you suddenly find yourself tripping and colliding with the ground. Your face smashes harshly into the pavement and onlookers gasp at the severity of your fall. You black out for a second or two and feel yourself being pulled to your feet by a few people trying to help.

“You okay, kid? Hell of a fall…” One guy asks.

You shake your head to clear the stars from your vision before answering. “Honestly? Not really. That fucking… Sucked,” You manage to blurt out, making those around you chuckle sympathetically.

“I think you’d better get this checked out. Head injuries are no joke,” A woman standing beside you pipes up.

You feel a dull thud in your head, but the urgency of your tasks keeps you from agreeing. You turn and smile at her. “Wish I could, but I have to get back to work. Thanks for the help, though, everybody,” You tell the kind people who stopped to help you.

The little crowd that has gathered around you erupts in concerned murmurs, but they don’t know Miranda Priestly. Being late with Miranda’s paperwork is a much bigger threat to your health than a bump on the head.

As you navigate through the day, the dizziness and lightheadedness persist, making it challenging to concentrate. You also find yourself having to stay late with Miranda, assisting her with tasks long after everyone else has left the office. Just when you think for certain that your head is about to crack in two, Miranda miraculously decides that she is done for the night.

“That’s all, Y/N,” She says simply and waits for you to grab her coat and belongings for her.

You’re so distracted by your headache that you didn’t even hear her speak.

After you have made no attempt to move, Miranda’s head whips to you immediately. “Y/N. We’re leaving,” She snaps irritably. She hates repeating herself.

Your eyes widen and you hurriedly rush around to get her things and put her coat on her. You faithfully follow her to the elevator and she, surprisingly, allows you to get in with her instead of making you take another one.

The confined space of the elevator car amplifies the swirling sensations in your head. You bring a weary hand up to rub your eyes, trying to make yourself feel more alert.

Miranda looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seemed rather off today, Y/N. Is something bothering you?”

You attempt to brush off her question. “I’m fine… Just… A head… Ache,” You mumble. Your voice is slurred and your eyes seem so blank.

Miranda’s eyebrows shoot up at this. She’s never seen you look like this. It alarms her greatly. You don’t sound well at all. Her piercing eyes study you intently. “I think you need to get some rest, Y/N. Maybe consider taking tomorrow off?” She suggests, her fondness for you overtaking her need to put up a tough front. She likes you… A lot. More than she would like to admit.

“I’m good,” You try to to assure her quietly. You’re too out of it to even process the unbelievable offer Miranda just made you. A fucking day off? Unheard of.

Miranda sighs as she looks at the state you’re in. She feels really guilty that she worked you so hard today. She should have let you go home ages ago. She just… Likes having you around. Even if you two aren’t directly interacting. You bring her a great sense of peace and calm. Truthfully, she didn’t even need you here tonight. She was just being selfish and wanted to keep you all to herself without other people barging in and… Oh, wait. That… Kind of sounds like a… Crush, doesn’t it? Is that why she enjoys your company so much? Miranda’s cheeks flame at this.

But, before Miranda can even begin to freak out about her silent revelation, the elevator jolts suddenly and you stumble, feeling weaker than before.

Miranda tries to steady you by gripping your arm, worry etching her usually composed features. “Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?”

But before you can respond, a wave of dizziness overtakes you and the world around you blurs. You feel yourself swaying, and the next thing you know, you’re enveloped in Miranda’s arms as unconsciousness claims you.

… Unfortunately, Miranda is a very petite woman and you… Kind of just end up flopping on top of her.

If only Emily and Nigel could see you now. Falling for the boss…

Note: This was so fun to write.

Masterlist

#miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #dwp #miranda priestly x reader #devil wears prada #emily charlton #nigel kipling #meryl streep #emily blunt #stanley tucci #miranda priestly x y/n #y/n is stupid

[stayevildarling]

Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - Dragon meets Purple, Part 2

word count: 2k

tw: none

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime

A few months had passed since Wilhemina officially became Mirandas second assistant. And despite their initial doubts about whether this would work or not it was going surprisingly well. Due to Wilhemina's experience Runway was working smoothly. Miranda was quite surprised by this but she also enjoyed working closely with someone who was close to her age for once. The only person not enjoying the situation was Emily, as she was suddenly the one running around New York to fetch coffees and chase designers down, while Wilhemina had more administrative work.

Today a particularly busy day is finally coming towards the end, most people have left the office by now and so the only ones left are Wilhemina and her boss. As the redhead sits at her desk, typing away at her computer, before getting up to walk to the printer, she sees Miranda standing in her office and signalling for Wilhemina to join her.

,,Care to join me for a drink Ms Venable?'' the slightly older woman asks.

Wilhemina raises an eyebrow, surprised by the invitation but at the same time intrigued.

,,Of course Ms Priestly, lead the way''.

Wilhemina watches as Miranda walks over to a golden drink trolley next to the sofa in her office. As she pours two glasses of scotch, Wilhemina can't help but look at her bosses features. Her jawline, the way her skirt complimented her legs.

,,I must admit Ms Venable, you have been rather impressive lately, I cannot deny your talents any longer'' she praises which takes the redhead by surprise.

Of course she knew the value of her work but she knew Miranda wasn't one to praise. As she takes a sip, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips ,,High praise coming from you Ms Priestly, I must be doing something right''.

Miranda chuckles softly ,,Indeed, though I must also confess your penchant for challenging authority can be rather... infuriating at times''.

Wilhemina raises her glass in mock toast before replying ,,Ah but where's the fun in playing by the rules Ms Priestly? Life is too short to be confined by limitations''.

Miranda simply smirks with a glint of adoration in her eyes. This had been exactly what she liked about Wilhemina, the sass, honestly and sarcasm. It was refreshing to the woman with assistants that usually obey her straight away and never talk back to her.

,,Spoken like a true maverick Ms Venable, perhaps there is hope for you yet'' Miranda replies with a smirk.

The smirk meets her straight back before Wilhemina counters ,,Perhaps Ms Priestly but don't hold your breath. I'm not one to change my ways easily''.

They chat for some more before they both head back towards their desk, wrapping up their work for the day and working through the upcoming Paris schedule.

-------

,,One more thing before we go to Paris, I'm promoting one of you''. Miranda explained. The office was quiet now, it was late and everyone had left.

,,Ms Venable I would like to offer you a higher position in HR'' Miranda explained, Emily's jaw dropping, in disbelief of the words she just heard from her bosses mouth.

,,What?!'' Emily asks. ,,She's only been here for six months, how come she's getting the promotion?''.

,,Oh get over yourself Emily, we both know that Ms Venable is way more qualified to work upstairs and have her own office rather than being my assistant''. her boss replies snappily.

,,I suggest you start working on finding me a new second assistant'' Miranda explains, dismissing Emily.

,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina finally speaks, a bit dumbfounded at what just happened. She had worked hard in the past couple of months, however she didn't expect a promotion.

,,May I ask why?'' Wilhemina adds.

,,Well, I had a feeling from the start you were meant to be more than an assistant and you certainly have proven you have the abilities to work upstairs. So I pulled some strings and you may work in HR from now on. You will get your own office and you won't have to- you know- run around as much for me'' Miranda explains, suddenly a softer side showing that Wilhemina hasn't gotten to see yet.

,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina smiles, touched by the gesture, trying to think if there was some ulterior motive to her decision.

,,By the way, I think it's time you call me Miranda by now, considering I won't be your direct boss anymore''.

,,Very well- Wilhemina'' she replies with a small smile. Now Miranda surprised as she hasn't seen a real smile from the redhead so far, being able to tell the difference from a fake polite one to a real one as she had do it most of her day.

They shake hands before they both head off, Wilhemina to inspect her new office and Miranda back to her desk, looking over her Paris schedule one more time. Miranda internally cringes as she hates the feel of Wilhemina's leather gloves.

After the elevator dings, Wilhemina steps into her new office, a small smile playing on her face as she sees her name on the door. She is quite fascinated by the view of New York and the size of her office. As she walks to her new desk, she finds a little box.

As she undoes the ribbon, she finds a purple pair of Chanel gloves inside them. She chuckles before collecting her things for the day and leaving.

As she heads downstairs to the elevator that exits the building she halts in the hallway as she sees a little light still in Mirandas office. ,,Good Night Ms. - Miranda'' she states as Miranda takes her eyes off the screen and looking at Wilhemina. She smirks satisfactiory as she sees the purple gloves already on the redheads hands. ,,Good Night'' she mumbles before carrying on with her work.

-------

Miranda sighs as she walks out of her office and towards the elevator, some files in her hand. Making her way upstairs, she suddenly notices the light still lit in Wilhemina's office. Miranda checks the time and realises it's past midnight. She thinks about turning back around, having dealt with too much interaction today but also needing those applications on Wilhemina's desk as it had been months since Paris and Emily still hasn't found a worthy second assistant.

Miranda knocks and opens the door in one swift motion finding Wilhemina on her computer. ,,Hire this one, Emily is taking far too long'' Miranda states before handing Wilhemina an application file.

They both look at each other for a moment, brown eyes meeting green ones. Silence filling the room as the same question played on both of their minds. ,,Do you need me to help out downstairs?'' Wilhemina breaks the silence first. ,,Pardon?'' Miranda questions.

,,I mean it's been months since Paris and if you need any help I would be quite happy to'' Wilhemina explains and is met with a sweet smile. ,,No- I'd just appreciate if you work through the application as quickly as possible''. Miranda replies with a grateful smile.

,,Why are you here so late?'' Miranda eventually asks. Wilhemina simply looks at her unable to really give her an answer but Miranda understood even without a word. She knew being a woman in this industry, the position not necessarily mattering, you had to get used to long hours in the office.

,,Do you need a lift? my driver should be outside.'' Miranda asks which takes Wilhemina by surprise. ,,No thank you Miranda but I'll walk out with you?'' she questions before being met with a nod and grabbing her bag and cane.

The elevator ride is quiet, Miranda containing a smile as she notices that Wilhemina had worn the Chanel gloves since she gave them to her. As they both walk past security and outside the building. New York being lit up and loud even in the middle of the night. Miranda walks over to her driver before she turns back towards Wilhemina.

,,I know this isn't exactly part of your job description but would you be free to join me for the launch dinner tomorrow evening?'' the question doesn't only take Wilhemina completely by surprise. Wilhemina had heard about the dinner and how much Miranda despised half of the people there. She doesn't quite understand why Miranda would like her company rather than Emily who certainly has more knowledge with these sort of things. Wilhemina had no idea that she had become a sense of comfort to Miranda, the usual strong woman, feeling safer in Wilhemina's presence. The question slipped her mind before she could think about it. Wilhemina being the stern HR she usually is, her mind takes her back that indeed this had no part in her job description but she felt intrigued. The last year in New York had helped the redhead realise that she didn't really have a personal life and she longed for one. So somehow as a result, a spontaneous Wilhemina comes to the surface, breaking through her usual high walls and agreeing. Miranda gives her a small but confused smile at her own question before making her way home.

-------

,,This will be your desk, you have big shoes to fill so please don't mess this up, considering Miranda chose you''. Emily explains as you listen to her instructions.

,,Understood'' you nod as you get familiar with your desk and computer.

The first couple of hours are quiet as Miranda was with a designer, presenting a new collection with Nigel. You walk around runway, getting to meet people you will be working with from now on before returning to your desk and working through the to-do list Emily has given you.

,,Miranda will be back in about thirty minutes, I'll send you a text with everyones coffee orders, please run to Starbucks and hurry up''. Emily explains.

Quickly, you grab your things and do as you are told, returning a short while later with the coffees.

After placing Miranda's coffee on her desk, you return to your own before Emily returns as well.

,,I have a coffee left for Wilhemina?'' you ask unfamiliar with the name.

,,Oh yes, remember the big shoes to fill? Well that's her, she works upstairs in HR now, please take it to Ms Venable'' Emily explains and you nod as you walk towards the elevator. As the elevator dings your eyes are met with Miranda.

She halts, recognising your face from the application. You had done your research, knowing not to directly address or bother Ms Priestly but her lack of movement and conversation, ushered you to make some.

,,Hello Ms. Priestly, my name is Y/N your new second assistant'' you introduce yourself before she takes her sunglasses off.

The woman scans you a second with a surprised look on her face. ,,Oh you are the assistant'' she states.

,,I was told you hired and chose me'' you reply slightly confused. The woman simply carries on scanning your body before replying ,,That's all'' and leaving towards her office.

Slightly dumbfounded and confused you make your way upstairs before knocking on Ms Venable's door.

,,Come in'' the redhead replies as you enter.

,,Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm Miranda's second assistant, I have your coffee here for you'' you explain before bending slightly, placing it in front of her.

,,Thank you'' she states and you can't help but notice her staring at you, specifically as you bend over slightly to hand her the coffee.

,,Oh and if you have any issues, for example with Emily, don't hesitate to come find me'' she states.

,,Why would I have any issues with Emily Ms Venable?'' you ask confused, considering its your first day.

,,Emily can be a bit demanding, given her position in this company'' Wilhemina replies .

,,Very well thank you Ms Venable'' you reply before heading back towards your desk, unbeknownst that her eyes followed until you left her office.

#wilhemina venable #sarah paulson #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #Wilhemina Venable x reader #miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #tdwp #meryl streep #ahs #cordelia goode #billie dean howard #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #sarah paulson imagine #devil wears prada #emily blunt

[s3xyhorrorlvr]

made these 🤷🏻‍♀️

#oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #kitty oppenheimer #jean tatlock #cillian murphy #emily blunt #florence pugh #cillian x y/n #saw 2004 #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #barbenheimer #barbie #horror

[lacontroller1991]

Just Another Sunday (Ernest Lawrence x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Author's Note: This started as a dream and was intending to be a very smutty fic, but It took a turn and now it's pure angst so beware

WARNING: 18+ HEAVY MENTION OF MISCARRIAGE (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE Do NOT read if this subject is emotional/personal) , loss of child, feelings of isolation, Ernest is kind of a dick in this fr fr, lots of emotions, lots of petty arguing, passive aggressive-ness, nausea, drinking, smoking, language

Word Count: 2.4k

Author's Note 2.0: This is Josh Hartnett's version <3

----------

Sundays at the Oppenheimers. It’s become a weekly thing for you and Ernest to go over to his friend’s house for a brunch, especially since it’s hit spring and the trees are blooming. Today is no different. Except for the fact that you and Ernest are fighting. 

The car rolls to a stop and Ernest shuts off the engine, the inside falling deadly silent as you grip the bottle of wine and stare out the window. It’s rare that you and him fight. Ernest is mild tempered and you’re easy going, but when he gets on to something, it's either his way or the highway, and he will push for what he wants. But this time, you can’t give him what he wants. 

He lets out a sigh, unbuckling his lap belt before looking at you but you ignore him, “let’s try to be pleasant,” he opens the door and steps out, rounding the car before opening your door. Looking up at him through your lashes, you give in, stepping out carefully before he shuts the door. The two of you walk side by side, hands glued to your bodies as you near the door. You can do this, just avoid talking about children. 

The door opens, revealing Kitty with a martini in her hand. “You guys are late.” Ernest shrugs his shoulders, stepping inside and kneeling down to swoop up Toni into his arms as the toddler giggles.

“Sorry, someone couldn’t pick out an outfit,” he comments, using one hand to tickle the toddler as you step inside the house, setting the wine on the stand. 

“Yes, sorry, I had to help him pick out something to wear.”

Your dry response causes Ernest to whip his head towards you, eyebrow raised but he shakes it off, turning his attention back to the child in his arms. “I had to choose something to impress my favorite girl,” he strokes Toni’s hair who smiles and reaches to play with his glasses while Kitty raises an eyebrow in amusement at the obvious tension.

“Well, you can have her. I need a break.” Kitty offers you the rest of her drink and you down it immediately before Ernest can see. “Rob’s in the kitchen.” Ernest nods, walking off with Toni and leaving you alone with Kitty. “What the hell is that about?” 

Rolling your eyes, you take out a cigarette and pass one to Kitty before lighting both of yours. Kitty and you have an interesting relationship. You aren’t close friends per say, but you understand each other more than other women do and she’s the only one currently in your corner. “Ernest is on his campaign about having kids again. He doesn’t seem to believe that I can’t and he won’t take no for an answer.”

“Lost another one?” She asks softly, huffing her cigarette as you hang your head.

“Number 4.” Kitty’s eyes fill with pity but you shake your head in denial. “He doesn’t know. You know how he is. He’ll beat himself up and it won’t be good for either of us so it’s better that he doesn’t know, for now at least. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ernest to death and I want nothing more than to have a child with him, but I can’t. They never seem to stick,” Kitty pulls you into a hug and you hug back, glad to get it off your chest. You don’t know why you keep losing the pregnancy. You find out you’re pregnant and you want to tell Ernest, but when you get around to it, the child is already gone. It makes you feel awful and you can’t imagine what Ernest would say if he found out. Pulling away from you, Kitty rubs your arms in comfort and gestures her head toward the glass door. 

“Why don’t we go outside?” You nod your head as she leads you through the doors to the patio where the table is already set. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll grab two more martinis.” She rushes away as you look out from the porch. The trees provide some shade as they lightly move with the breeze, occasionally letting sunlight seep through the new leaves while Berkeley lays underneath.

Sighing, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the smell of linen invade your senses. It’s moments like these where you don’t mind California. 

“Berkeley sure is a pretty sight,” Robert comments from beside you, startling you as you jump with a yelp while he laughs, two drinks in hand. Once you calm down, he slides one over to you. “Ernest sure does seem wound up.”

“He is.” Robert wants to comment, but instead he tries to silently urge you along. Giving in, you take the drink from him and take a sip before turning to him. “He wants children, but I’m having issues and he’s just been a huge jerk about it,” you reply, taking another sip as you watch him play with Toni and Peter on the floor, the older child tackling the professor to the floor while the dog wags his tail, wanting to join in. “He’s being passive aggressive about it. Like look at him.” Robert turns to look at your husband, tossing Peter up in the air and catching him with ease. “When has he ever done that?”

“You have a point. Does he know about your issues?”

“Partially. He knows some of the issues but not all.” Letting out a sigh of frustration, you take another sip of the martini and scrunch your face. “Why do you make these so strong?” Oppenheimer almost responds but Kitty walks through the doors with trays of food. 

“Ernest, lunch.” Hearing his name being called, he gets off the floor and straightens himself out before walking out the door, a smile on his face as he sits across from you. 

“Shall we eat?”

----------

The lunch goes by relatively quickly as the food disappears from their plates. Ernest and Robert talk about physics and Kitty pretends to be interested while you poke your food, your sense of appetite being lower than normal. Letting out a soft sigh, you set down your fork causing Kitty to look at you, eyeing your plate of food.

“Did you not like something?” This gains Ernest’s and Robert’s attention as they turn to you to spot that your plate of food is still relatively full.  

“Oh it was good as always, I guess I’m just not as hungry as I thought I was,” it’s partially true. You definitely put in more than you thought you could eat, but at the same time the bouts of occasional nausea didn’t make it appealing. 

“Y’know, you haven’t been eating much lately. Are you feeling alright? Is your stomach okay?” You know what Ernest is really asking. Could you be pregnant? The answer is never what he wants.

“I’m fine. Just not hungry,” you smile behind your lie and you can tell he doesn’t buy it.

Sensing the tension, Kitty stand up and grabs some plates. “Right, well we can pack you up some to take home. I need to feed the kiddos though,” at the mention of kids, Ernest hops up and takes the plates from Kitty.

“No need, I can do that. Gotta learn somehow for when we have kids.” He smiles as if he’s being friendly but he’s not. He’s being passive aggressive and you know it.

“Ernest.” It's terse and it causes Kitty to back away from the two of you and hover near Robert. The two share a glance in concern as they watch the scene unfold. 

“What?”

“You know what.” Setting down the plates, Ernest turns to you, placing his hands on his hips.

“When we have children, and we will, we need to know how to feed them.”

“We will cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Then hurry up so we can cross it. Let’s have a kid.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and the outside is quiet, not even birds are chirping. The silence is so deafening that you could hear a pen dropping from a mile away. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. This is not a conversation that needs to be in front of your friends. Abruptly standing up, you toss the napkin onto the table and brush past him into the house, making a beeline for the guest bedroom and shutting the door, collapsing onto the bed as sobs wrack your body. 

Grabbing the plates, Kitty stops in front of Ernest with a hint of anger in her eyes. “You can be an ass Lawrence.” The words stun Ernest as he stands on the patio. Robert walks up to him and pats him on the shoulder, causing the taller man to look down at the theoretician.

“Go to her, but don’t talk. Listen. Let her talk.” Robert walks away and lights his pipe leaving Ernest alone. What has gotten into her?

Following where you went, Ernest stops in front of the door before hesitantly knocking it and stepping inside, not giving you time to protest. “Honey?”

“Go away.” His heart melts at seeing you curled in on yourself, your head laying on a pillow as tears stream down your face. Sighing, he sits on the edge of the bed by your legs and lays a hand on your thigh, but you make no movement to remove it. If anything, it’s the most comfort you’ve felt from him. 

“What’s going on? Why are you behaving like this?”

“Ernest, what do you not get? I can’t have children.”

“Sure you can.” You would throw a pillow at him due to his naiveness but you decide against it.

“No. I can’t,” he begins to open his mouth but you quickly cover it with your hand. Closing his mouth, you remove your hand and run it through your hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’ve been pregnant, and I’m not infertile.”

“What?” He waits for a punchline, but the silence says everything and he’s trying to keep his anger in check. How long have you been lying to him? Why have you not told him you’ve been pregnant? Closing his eyes, he lets out a deep focused breath as his fists clench, not bothering to look at you. “Then what the hell has been the issue? Why are we not having children? Are you pregnant right now? We have been trying for months, almost a year now. Why do we not have any?” A lump in your throat forms as a wave of nausea takes over. 

“They’re not catching.” Your voice is soft as you sniffle, clutching your stomach protectively as he furrows his brows in confusion, turning to you.

“What do you mean they’re not catching?”

“I keep losing them.” Ernest’s heart drops and he feels like a piece of shit. He’s been treating you like shit for not giving him a child but you’ve been trying. How could he not have known? Why have you never told him? What do you mean by ‘them’? 

Swallowing back bile in his throat, he stands up and paces the room, one hand on his hip and one in his hair, messing up his neatly parted blonde locks. “How many?”

“Four.” 

“Shit.” He paces while he thinks. What on Earth would have caused you to lose four children? Why didn’t you tell him? How could you be doing this all alone? How must you be feeling? The thought of you suffering by yourself for all that wrenches Ernest’s heart. He can’t imagine you going through that alone and it hurts him more than not having a child that you couldn’t go to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve been so busy lately and I don’t want it to interfere with your work.” You sniffle in response, wiping your eyes as his softens. Walking around the bed, he lays on top and pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest against his chest. 

“Oh baby, I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that all alone.” He presses a soft kiss against the crown of your head while you clutch onto his clothes, tears slipping out of your eyes.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to disrupt your work.” He shakes his head in response.

“You’re more important to me than my research. My work would have waited. I should’ve been there for you.” He holds you close for what felt like forever, still trying to wrap his mind around the whole situation. “What do you think has been causing the losses?”

“I talked to John because I had a sneaking suspicion of what was causing it and according to him doses of radiation can contribute to miscarriages.” If his heart wasn’t in his stomach before, it sure is now. 

“You’re done working in the lab.”

“Bu-”

“No buts. If it’s putting you in danger, I will not allow it. You can still help me with research but you will not go near the lab. If it’s causing you to miscarry then who knows what else it could be doing and I will not allow you to die because of something I made. Do you understand?”

You really don’t want to fight with him. Not after you’ve been fighting for weeks at this point. “I do.” You continue to lay there for a few minutes in his arms as you and him enjoy each other’s company, finally at peace with each other. A knock on the door causes both of your heads to whip up. “Who is it?”

“It’s Kitty. Are you guys ok in there?”

“Yeah we’re fine,” Ernest replies, gently moving you off him as he gets up and fixes the bed. “We should probably leave and continue this at home.” Smiling softly, you wipe away any remaining tears as you walk to him. Reaching up your hand, you thread your fingers through his soft hair and pull him down, your lips brushing against his.

Grabbing your waist, Ernest greedily draws you in, all of the tensions melting away as he kisses you. Moaning into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and keep him close, feeling a slight poking below his belt and it causes you to break away. “Ernest you can’t be serious.”

“I am, which is why we should get home,” he goes back to kissing you but you pull away again, a smile on your face. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#ernest lawrence #Ernest Lawrence x reader #Ernest Lawrence x you #josh hartnett #oppenheimer #reader insert #female reader #robert oppenheimer #j Robert oppenheimer #kitty oppenheimer #Cillian murphy #emily blunt

[multimilfs]

Lily Houghton x Fem!Reader: Dodging Danger

Summary: Lily Houghton + 41 -- "You need some sleep."

AO3

Prompts found here!

A/N: This is a shorter one, but sometimes shorter is sweeter! This is also my first time writing for Lily so I wanted to get a feel for her character

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix

Warning(s): None

“I think I’m dying.” 

“You are not,” You shake your head, “Now hold still.” 

McGregor whines like a child, but does as you ask. You dip a piece of cloth into the salve Frank gave you and dab it across his face. His skin is bright red, covered with splotches and bug bites. 

When you finish applying the salve he rolls over in his cot without so much as a thank you. You roll your eyes, but let it go; he’ll thank you later when he’s in a better mood. He’ll just act like an ungrateful child for the first few hours. 

You set the jar down and find a nose sniffing at your hand with interest. Large eyes stare into your own. 

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” You ask and pat the top of Proxima’s head. She grumbles low in her throat. 

The sun has set since you vanished below deck. A sky of vivid color is now pitch black, the only light being the lanterns Frank has hanging around the edge of La Quila. The firelight reflects off of several pairs of eyes out in the water and you shiver. 

You’re enjoying your time in Brazil so far—besides nearly being blown up by a German Prince and Lily almost being kidnapped. The jungle is beautiful. Species of plants Lily has only ever told you about hang around or float freely here, so much bigger and brighter than anything back in London. 

The real beauty is seeing how Lily takes it all in. 

The jungle is like Lily’s own treasure trove. You’re interested in where this journey will take you, but you’re here for Lily more than anything else, and seeing her so happy is everything you need. 

She alternates between scribbling notes down furiously and attempting to film the river. Once or twice she even sketches the rarer species, though she left her paints back in London to save on space. 

Even now, with the sun far below the horizon, she sits under a lamp and scribbles down notes of everything she’s seen. 

You walk over and kiss the top of her head, “You need some sleep, sweetheart.” 

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

“God. You and your brother should have gone into the theater with these kinds of dramatics.” 

“McGregor tried, they said he overacted.” Lily says absently. 

“That… tracks, actually,” You say. Sitting next to her on the wooden bench, you just take her in; the way her eyes narrow and lips purse as she fights reality to write down her thoughts faster than she can think them, “How are you feeling about all of this?” 

Lily pauses then. She meets your eyes and you can see the determination in there, but also the hesitancy of a woman who feels out of her depth. 

“I’m terrified… but I can’t give up. I won’t.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just, don’t get yourself killed, you think you can manage that much?” 

“You’re asking a lot,” Lily grins, “But I’ll try.” 

You laugh. It is so very like her to find trouble in the pursuit of knowledge, but you wouldn’t change a thing about her. 

Leaning forward and stealing a quick kiss, you smile, and stand. You press another kiss into her hair out of habit, “Come to bed soon.” 

#lily houghton #lily houghton x reader #jungle cruise #jungle cruise x reader #lily houghton imagine #jungle cruise imagine #emily blunt #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2022 #multimilfswritings #multimilfsficmas2022

[equallyshaw]

reunion's - cillian murphy x actress oc

- these are my literal guilty pleasure, so it only made sense to do one myself.

- takes place right after oppenheimer ends filming and the premiere of it

-has a few time skips

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 3.0K

────────────

tana looked up from her laptop that she had been scouring for the past few hours, reading a short script over and over again. in between a bottle of wine and thai takeout, ofcourse. it was nearing 2 am when she heard her california home front door open, she looked up, her tabby cat still at her feet. she stood up unsure of who it could be, but then heard the distinct Irish accent that she'd come to love over the past 2 years. and that's when she saw him walking towards her. he smiled widely, holding a bouquet of peonies and a box of chocolate. her favorites. "hi my love." he said softly setting the gifts down, and pulled the girl into a big hug. she looked up at him and smiled, before kissing him. they melted into the kiss, familiar yet unfamiliar. he'd been shooting oppenheimer for the past 60-something days while she had been in vancouver shooting the last episodes her character had in riverdale...how she went from peaky blinders to riverdale will amaze her for the rest of time. she'd be back in vancouver shortly for pilot season. "hi baby.." she whispered as they parted before she pecked him one last time. he dipped her, causing her to giggle and he placed one more kiss before moving back to grab her gifts. she took the gifts, marveling at the flowers and gave him a cheeky smile for the chocolates. he smirked, taking ahold of rodgers; her 6 year old tabby. she adopted him around civil war with captain america vs iron man and named him after the great steve rodgers. cillian kissed the tabby, before setting him back down. tana moved over into the kitchen to place the flowers into a vase, and set the chocolate near the expresso machine. she set the flowers above the sink and smiled. cillian came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. they'd have tonight before reality set back in.

—

tana and cillian met on the set of peaky blinders in 2021, right after the second wave of the pandemic hit. as fate would have it, they lived down the hall from one another as cillian was going through it with his wife. the two had been having issues for years and the pandemic only amplified them. he confided in her, and in turn she came to adore the man. in ways she knew she shouldn't, so once her character's time came to an end on the show, she skipped back to los angeles before hiking it up to riverdale in vancouver, of march 2022. the two didn't see each other then until november 2022 when cililan came to toronto to do some filming for a video short. the two rekindled where they had left off. cillian's divorce just had been finalized and so he had the freedom to do whatever his heart pleased. but for tana who was 27 in november, the logistics of coming out to the world was not necessarily good. bleak. grim, even. for him and for her, the age gap between the two would be the focal point and not that they cared deeply for one another. tana woke up a little bit before cillian, and she was cuddled into his chest. she moved some stray hair out of his eyes softly. she hummed to herself, and as cillian heard that as he pretended to be asleep he begun to tickle her. she jumped and squealed as he did so, as it was the death of her. she ended up rolling onto the floor, and as soon as she landed with a thud she erupted with laughter. cillian quickly looked over, and relaxed as he heard her contagious laugh. she pushed a foot towards him, as if to keep his distance. he put his hands up in defense playfully and she got up. cillian eyed his shirt that hung over her body. "have i ever told you that you in my clothes..just does it for me?" he questioned cheekily, and she rolled her eyes. "yeah yeah yeah." she said throwing a stray pillow at him before walking out of the room. she walked out and went to go feed her cat, and make some expresso. as she scrolled on her phone and responded to messages, cillian walked in planted a kiss on her head before getting a nespresso for himself. he walked to the fridge, grabbing some creamer for tana and milk for him. "you really need to get some tea, love." he said softly and she stiffled a laugh. he was playing with fire, this morning she thought. jokingly ofcrouse. "I'm american, we don't drink breakfast tea." she said in a posh british accent and he cringed causing her to laugh. "yes ill grab more today...besides i didn't know you'd be stopping by. so that's on you buddy." she smirked sipping her coffee now. "oh is that so?" he asped wrapping his arms around the girl. because of how fleeting their time together was, they made the most of it, and usually could never keep their hands to themselves. innocently and not so innocently.

it was around 2 pm that day as they were watching the office together the steve carrell version, he got a call from his agent. his demeanor changed, and then he stood up walking into the bedroom. she thought nothing of it, and waited for him to return. cillian's heart and mind fought with one another. his heart told him to stay, while his head told him to leave. his agent had tipped him off that the daily mail or the daily fail was about to put out a article, detailing his and tana's relationship..from the very beginning. somebody had told them, and he was trying to figure out who. his agent told him to get his arse back to ireland, so they could do some media damage. but he just didn't want to leave tana to the wolves. he wanted to face everything together. but his agent had said this will look badly on them, more her than him. she'd be seen as somebody with 'daddy issues' (nothing wrong with that tho!) while he'd be seen as a womanizer and that could benefit him. he bit his cheek as he quickly gathered his things. when he didn't come back in, she went go to see if he was still on the phone. as she opened the door, her heart dropped. "you're leaving?" she questioned, and he paused briefly. "ye-yeah my agent needs me to come back for an audition." he said not looking up at her. she nodded, biting her cheek. she felt tears pool her eyes, why was he being secretive? she felt her chest rise, knowing she would be crying momentarily. he picked up on her scattered breathing, and as he looked up she was out of the doorway. he finished packing and walked out to find her. "tana?" he questioned and he found her in the little reading nook in her office. she looked out the window, not wanting to turn. and she knew if she did, she'd start sobbing uncontrollably. "just- just don't. don't say a damn word, because nothing is going to make up for the fact that you're leaving because youre terrified!" she seethed now looking at cillian. his heart dropped, knowing she knew. she shook her head biting her lip, sighing. "my agent told me last night right before you got here." she said setting her feet on the ground in front of her. "you're being a fucking coward, cill. a fucking coward!" she threw at him, before shaking her head. "i thought differently of you...so fucking different." she said wiping her eyes, getting rid of her tears. "you-you fucking promised cill. fucking promised." she seeted, pointing a fingers towards his chest. his eyes followed with tears, so evident in his blue eyes. "get the hell out." she said calmly, before sitting back down on the nook and looking out the window. cillian swallowed, watching for a brief moment, before walking out. shattering the young girl's heart.

—

the two would not see each other until the premiere of oppenheimer in london. tana had come a few days early to stay with florence in her london flat before the hotel stay where they'd get ready. the two had become thick of thieves after working on the critically acclaimed, midsommar. ever since then, they had been best friends. the pair were in their conjoined suites, with their respective hair and makeup teams, and stylists. for the first time in her career, chanel had sent over personalized dresses for her to choose from, and she chose a dashing and daring silver rose gold dress, that plunged a bit at the front. "you nervy?" florence questioned walking in on camilla as she was inspecting her dress. she smoothed down the dress, and she nodded to florence; making eye contact in the mirror. "well you look hot, so he's gonna have to say something." florence smirked and the two went on to take some photos together. they arrived at the premiere, and tana's stomach fluttered with butterflies. they'd be the first people on the carpet, and first for the movie in florences cast. florence was met with a rupture of screams, and tana even earned her own as she stepped onto the carpet. peaky blinders had given the international fanbase she'd bee gunning for, and now it seems there were a few waiting for the premiere. she watched florence do some solo shots, and took one on her phone of florence before their agent pushed them together. the crowd went wild, and the two laughed contagiously, and cillian would know that laugh from anywhere. as he walked up to the carpet, he saw tana looking the most beautiful he'd ever seen her. she look confident, calm and collected and most of all, she seemed genuinely happy. and that was all he wanted for her. the pair took some more photos before florence pushed her away to make tana take some solo shots. she waved to some fans who went wild, and that's when she momentarily made eye contact with cillian. and for some reason, that unleashed one hell of a confidence boost. florence walked towards cillian who gave her a knowing look, he knew she set this whole thing up. "TANA - TANA - TANA!" florence chanted with the crowd, and tana's cheeks turned crimson pink. she shook her head, before walking towards her agent. she laughed loudly at whatever the agent said before the two made their way over to the interviews. "you fucked up cill, royally." florence said pushing him softly, before taking photos with each other. and then the queen emily blunt showed up and florence quickly ran over to hug and take pictures. emily laughed at cill's response, before the two walked over. "did florence tell you that you fucked up royally?" emily said turning towards the camera and speaking through clenched teeth. florence snickered and cillian nodded. "yep, and i know it wont be the end of it tonight." and emily clapped him on the back, "atta boy." she said before matt damon joined in.

tana took in some interviews, "how does it feel to see your ex on the big screen like this?" one of them asked, and she smiled diplomatically. "its amazing! to see how he did in peaky blinders and to now grace the big screen is wonderful! he definitely deserves this moment, and as an audience member i cannot wait to see what it entails." she smiled genuinely, before stepping back. "can i go inside?" she questioned, who told their publicist that they were going inside. "all for florence." the american girl muttered to herself as they walked into the theater.

yet they never made it to the movie, because on the other side of the world in california, they declared the protest between sag aftra and production companies/houses. florence dragged tana to an after party at the soho house. as florence partied on, tana sat at the bar on her phone. she spoke to her parents about the strike and found that they were already on the picket lines, for their daughter who couldn't just yet. she facetimed them, and saw all of it. "you guys are too cute! see yall soon." she beamed, before ending the facetime. she typed away to another friend, and another producer. things were becoming real for them and her stomach turned with anxiety. "mind if i join?" she heard the familiar Irish accent that made her stomach skip. she did not bother to look at him as she finished her cranberry vodka, holding it up for another one. he sat down without a word. he ordered his usual pint of beer, and they sat in silence waiting for their drinks. her phone buzzed with a selfie from her parents, they had taken with an actor friend of hers, maia mitchell. she hearted the image. she thanked the bartender for her drink and then cillian received his. "your parents on the picket lines?" he questioned, already knowing the answer. her parents had always been politically active, and this movement proved no different for them. "ye-yeah. i facetimed them as they were hitting hour number 3." she mused sipping her drink. "i figured." he mused, "that they'd be supporting something that means so much to them." she added to his comment and his eyebrows raised. "list-" she cut him off, "i get that you didn't want your career to be clouded, bu-but did you think for a second what it would do to mine, huh? or at least how you leaving would make me feel ? answer me that much cillian." and there it was. she'd used his full name and not just cill, he had come to love to hear from her.

"no, i didn't. i was in too much of a hurry to consider anything else." he answered honestly, and she felt her heart sink. she already knew his answer, but hearing him confirm it hurt even more. she nodded, "i figured. i so fucking figured." she seethed drinking more of her drink. "if you had, maybe things would of been different. or maybe just maybe, i wouldn't have wasted 7 months of filming falling for you." she quipped, chugging the rest of her drink; slammed it on the counter and texted florence she was taking a taxi back to the hotel. cillian sat at the bar, the rest of the night. tana had made it back to the hotel around 1 am, and as soon as she shut the conjuring suite door, she broke down sobbing. she felt as if her heart was about to break out of her chest, as she heaved. the brunette ripped off her jewelry and dress, before slipping on the white robe the hotel had for each guest. she went to the bathroom, to clean off her makeup. as soon as she saw her reflection, she cried harder. she stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes more, before walking out to go lay down. as she was passing the door, a loud knock was pounded. her eyebrows crinkled, with confusion. she wiped her eyes, and looked through the peephole before opening it to cillian. "what?" she asked, defeatedly. she was done, done with feeling the way she did about cillian. cillian took in the girl's broken composure. his eyes watered watching her crumbling before his eyes. "tana." was all he said before he stepped in, wrapping his arms around her. he shut the door behind them, and slowly made his way over to the bed with her.

he held her too his chest as she sobbed, his heart breaking knowing he caused this. she continued to cry for the next 10 minutes before she looked up at cillian who had already been looking at her for a few minutes. "why didn-didn't you stay? when you knew that would hurt me?" she questioned through broken sobs. his heart broke, and he brought her in for a kiss. she melted into the kiss feeling salty tears hit her cheeks. they pulled apart and she wiped his. he smiled weakly, and her in awe of his vulnerability, once again. she hadn't seen him cry since he put in motion the divorce. "cill.." she whispered wiping more tears as she whispered his name. "wh-why are you here?" she questioned, softly. "to tell you that...it hurt me too. that I'm sti-still hurting." he said weakly, and her heart now broke even more. "cill-" he cut her off, "i haven't stopped thinking about how we left things and in turn, can't turn off the memories that we made together. and i just, i miss you, I'm sorry." he cried. she brought him into her neck trying to comfort him. she allowed him to cry now, feeling vulnerability seep through his suit. his see-through suit. cillian calmed down after a few minutes, "cill.." she said and he looked up at her. "tell me what you know i want to hear, and ill be yours once again." she said softly and he nodded. "i want you, i have always wanted you. what i feel for you is stronger than anything i felt for my ex wife...and i want our lives together, in private and in public." he said confidently. and tana was sold. she smiled widely, before kissing him. they kissed the whole night, catching up and talking. oh, and laughing occasionally. florence came home sometime later and heard the two giggling like fools, and banging on the suite doors. "i swear to god if you fuck, I'm killing you lot!" she yelled and the two laughed, loudly. florence smirked, texting emily the good news.

tana and cillian spent the night forging a plan to go public, and how they wanted to spend time between los angeles and ireland. "ireland." tana hummed, and cillian had a twinkle in his eye. "ireland?" he questioned and she nodded. "take me home." she smiled before he gave her the biggest kiss of the night.

————

@thetana: London you were smashing xx

2.3 million likes, 123k comments

||

@florencepugh: absolutely adore you lady

@emilyblunt: hope my trash talking helped things move along

@johnkrasinski: had the best office quote off

@rdj: see you on the picket line, lady !

•

hope you all enjoyed! pls like a reblog if you did (:

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy one shot #peaky blinders #oppenheimer #cillian murphy x actress #florence pugh #emily blunt

[itzvintagevibez]

NEW CHARACTERS

From now on, I will be doing other character's of Charlize Theron such as;

-Charlotte Field (Longshot)

-Elaine Markinson (Gringo)

-Lorraine Broughton (Atomic Blonde)

-Queen Ravenna (Snow White and The Huntsman & Huntsman: Winter's War)

-Clea Strange (From Doctor Strange: The Multiverse Of Madness)

-Andy (The Old Guard)

I will also be doing Charlize Theron herself and I still do Lady Lesso stories just thought it was better it I add more characters as well.

I will also be doing other characters as well apart from Charlize Theron Character's. Below are the other female characters I will be adding;

-Wanda Maximoff (& Elizabeth Olsen)

-Natasha Romanoff (& Scarlett Johansson)

-Mary Poppins (Emily Blunt Version)

-Emily Houghton (From jungle Cruise played by Emily Blunt)

-Harley Quinn (by Emma Stone)

-Cruella DeVille (played by Emma Stone in 2021)

#female reader #fem reader #female x female #charlize theron #charlizeafrica #elaine markinson #queen ravenna #clea strange #andromache the scythian #andy #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso #Black Widow #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen #emily blunt #emma stone #harley quinn #cruella #cruella de vil #emily houghton #mary poppins #charlotte field #lorraine broughton #gringo #atomicblonde #marvel

[aphroditeslover11]

I’m basically the only one of my female friends now who isn’t talking to a guy which caused me to get a bit introspective last night at 2 am. I think I have a similar taste in men to Kitty Oppenheimer before she met Robert at this point. We have pretty similar track records with intelligent men, musicians and the odd guy who turns out to be gay (mine is still my best friend though). I have some fabulous stories! 🤣

#1950s #oppenheimer #american prometheus #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer x reader #christopher nolan #kitty oppenheimer #emily blunt #relationship #men are exhausting #single life

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: sub Miranda priestly? 👀🙏❤

Fuck yeah! I’ve always had a head canon that she’s a sub. She’s just incredibly stressed and definitely needs to be taken care of. Reader, as usual, is gender neutral. Let’s get into it!

You had been Miranda’s assistant for much longer than most. You attribute your staying power to the fact that you just don’t really care about wearing expensive clothing and the latest styles. You want to be true to yourself. You don’t care if you fit in with everyone else’s expectations. Of course you dress professionally, but you don’t go overboard. You’ve done your research and understand the business, however, you’re not getting discouraged and drained by it. You’re confident in yourself and don’t feel the need to put up a facade.

Sure. Nigel and Emily tease you. But slowly, they’ve come to accept you for who you are. You three often go out for drinks after work.

Miranda, however, has apparently not warmed up to you as much. (That’s actually not true, though. She’s just really good at hiding her attraction to you.) She still won’t call you by your actual name and sends you on ridiculous errands. But, she has also started asking for you to bring the book by the house. She only sends people she trusts with the book. You’re honored.

Today, Miranda is in a much worse mood than usual.

You, Emily, and Nigel are chatting and making each other laugh when Miranda arrives. She’s half an hour later than she typically is and that’s seemingly contributing to her frustration.

She storms in and flings her jacket on your desk, unintentionally knocking Nigel’s scalding hot cup of coffee all over the front of your shirt and in your lap.

If Miranda noticed what she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. She goes right into her office and closes the door.

You hiss in agony as you bite back some cuss words.

Nigel gasps and immediately grabs some tissues to try and soak up the spill on your desk. “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, horrified.

“Yeah, Nigel. I’m fine… But, I can’t walk around like this all day.” You say and grimace at your stained clothes. “What the hell am I going to do? I don’t have the time to run home and change.” You ask.

Nigel looks at Miranda’s closed office door. He can tell she’s going to be a while. He turns back and grins at you. “Where do you think you are, Y/N?” He says… And immediately decides to make you his next project.

Nigel gives you tons of clothes to try on. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he just glares at you and you shut up.

By the time you’re done, Nigel has picked out the perfect sleek suit for you to wear. He helps you style your hair and tells you to go look at yourself in the mirror.

“Wow… That’s me?” You ask in shock. You look like a completely different person.

Nigel nods with a pleased smile. “It’s certainly an improvement.” He says jokingly. “Keep up that usual confidence and people are going to think you own Runway.” He winks.

“Thanks, Nigel. I really appreciate it.” You tell him.

“Don’t thank me, I was just tired of seeing you dress like an accountant.” He says, crinkling his nose.

You roll your eyes and get back to the office. As you walk in, Emily almost spits out the tea she was drinking before she starts coughing violently.

You raise a perplexed eyebrow. Emily’s cheeks are burning. “What is it, Em?” You ask.

Emily composes herself and clears her throat. “So, you actually look decent for once. Hell must have just frozen over.” She says, trying to seem disinterested in how great you look in your new outfit.

“Haha, very funny.” You say and go to sit back at your desk.

Before long, you hear Miranda’s voice from her office. “Emily.” She says. You huff. She said it in the tone she uses when she means you.

You quickly get up and walk in with a notepad and pen. “Yes, Miranda?” You ask and look down at the paper to get ready to jot some stuff down.

Miranda doesn’t speak immediately.

The silence makes you look up at her in confusion.

Miranda’s face can’t hide the shock she clearly feels. Damn. You look really hot. She can’t help but wonder how much better it would look off of you, though… With your hands exploring her body… Shit! Pull yourself together, Miranda! She thinks harshly to herself and tries to snap out of the trance you’ve put her in.

She knows what a heartthrob you are (She’s not dumb), but this… This is just not fair to suddenly spring on her.

You clear your throat after Miranda’s been staring at you for a while.

The editor slightly shakes her head before her brain gets the message to start working once again. “Get Marc on the phone and make a reservation at that place I like. And Patricia needs to be picked up from the groomers.” She says in her calm, but demanding voice. Her momentary internal freak out has finally passed.

You nod. “I’m on it.” You say quickly and leave.

Miranda clenches her jaw. This is Nigel’s doing, she’s sure of it.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day goes by routinely. Impossible demands are met and you take great pleasure in your efficiency. Later on, Miranda leaves for the day and you finish up some work before going to take the book over.

You get to the townhouse and enter… However, there is an immediate and noticeable tension. Something is wrong. You hear a man’s furious voice and… Miranda’s. You can tell she’s trying to placate whoever she’s talking to, but the man’s voice only grows louder. You’ve never heard Miranda so… Shaken up. You look up at the stairway balcony and see two frightened little redheads peeking their faces out at you. They are silently pleading with you to do something.

Your vision goes red. You stomp up the stairway and make your way to the sound of Miranda’s voice. She sounds… Scared. You turn the corner and see a man, about Miranda’s age, yelling and berating her. You’re almost positive that this is her husband. You and Miranda’s eyes meet. She is so relieved to see you.

The man reaches out to grab Miranda’s arm roughly, but you immediately pull him back by his collar before he can lay his disgusting hand on her. You shove him hard up against the wall, seething. “Alright, you’re done, asshole! Let’s go!” You tell him and drag him harshly down the stairs with your arm tightly around his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He shouts, grunting in pain from your iron grip.

“Your worst fucking nightmare if you continue to make bad choices.” You say darkly. “If I see you back here again we’re going to have a problem. Get it?” You ask and violently shove him down the townhouse’s front steps.

The man stumbles and trips over himself. He splutters as he gets up and looks at you stupidly.

“Beat it!” You yell at him.

The man sees the rage in your eyes and decides to get going. He’s not going to mess with you.

You watch as he leaves like a pathetic idiot. You make sure that he’s gone before closing the front door, locking it, and sighing. You turn around and see Miranda at the top of the stairs.

Her eyes are red from crying and she looks so… Vulnerable.

Cassidy and Caroline begin to sob as they hurry over to hug their mother.

“It’s okay, bobbseys. Mommy’s here.” She assures. Wow. Her voice is so soft and warm right now. You… Love the sound of it like this. It’s comforting.

You quietly make your way up the stairs. “Are you all okay?” You ask gently.

Miranda sees you approaching and begins bawling herself. She reaches out to pull you into a group hug with the girls. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” She says.

Your eyes grow wide. You’ve never heard her say thank you before. You enjoy the feeling of them all in your arms. You could certainly get used to this.

You four finally pull away from each other, but Cassidy immediately clings to your side. She feels safe with you. Not to be outdone, Caroline quickly grabs onto your other side. You look to Miranda in astonishment and she can’t help but chuckle tearily as she looks at the shock on your face.

“I would say that you have won these two over.” She says with a smile and looks at her precious daughters.

You decide that you rather like the idea of the girls approving of you.

Miranda leads you all to the girls’ bedroom and Caroline and Cassidy immediately hop in the same bed and cuddle with each other. Miranda tucks them in and sits on the edge next to them. “Now, bobbseys. I know that was very scary.” She says. “But Y/N protected us.” She says and looks at you in gratitude.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Caroline says.

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N!” Cassidy eagerly adds.

You blush intensely. “My pleasure.” You mumble out, embarrassed.

“Stephen will not be a problem any longer.” Miranda says, looking back at the girls. First thing in the morning, she’s filing divorce papers against that son of a bitch. A restraining order too.

“So, Stephen’s not going to live here anymore?” Caroline asks.

Miranda cups her face. “No, he won’t, bobbsey.” Miranda promises.

Caroline nods, feeling relieved.

“Now, would you like a song to help you fall asleep?” Miranda entices.

The girls eagerly nod.

Miranda turns to you and pats the bed next to her. You quickly take a seat and can feel her lightly leaning against you. She’s so warm. She gently holds your hand and squeezes it.

Miranda sings a beautiful Yiddish lullaby. You are once again falling in love with her voice. You could listen to it constantly.

The girls are soothed by their mother’s singing. They quickly fall asleep.

Miranda ends the song and kisses each daughter on the head before standing up and guiding you out of the room. She turns off the lights and closes the door.

Miranda grabs your hand and leads you to her bedroom. “Y/N, I… I can’t thank you enough.” Miranda says, breaking down once again.

You wrap her in a hug. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.” You tell her and rub her back.

Miranda lets herself cry for a minute and you calmly whisper soft reassurances in her ear. You will never let anything harm her or the girls again. Something about your dynamic with them has completely changed. You will protect them with your life from here on out.

After Miranda has allowed herself some time to cry, she suddenly pulls back and looks at you closely.

You look back at her. “Miranda?” You ask.

“I… Feel safe… With you, Y/N.” Miranda reveals. She’s just pinpointed why she loves being around you. Every time at work when Miranda has forgotten something or made a tiny mistake, you swoop in and fix it… And now… This. You’re like her own personal superhero.

Miranda’s statement makes your heart rate pick up. You love that you make her feel secure.

“I think that… I haven’t felt truly safe and protected like this since I lost my father.” Miranda realizes and looks you in the eye. “I… Want you here with me, Y/N. Please, will you stay tonight?” She pleads.

You had no intentions of leaving anyway. You wanted to make sure Stephen was really gone. You smile. “Absolutely. I’ll go sleep on the couch.” You tell her. “Good night, Mi-”

“No!” Miranda all but shrieks.

Your posture becomes rigid. Miranda’s never raised her voice before. It’s quite startling. You turn to look at her but Miranda suddenly cups your face.

“Please… Stay in here with me.” She begs.

You can’t say no to her. You nod. “Okay.” You agree.

Then… Something happens that totally changes you for good. Miranda leans forward and places a gentle kiss to your lips. Your brain short-circuits for a second before you kiss her back. Her lips are so velvety. You need more.

Miranda moans softly and it’s the most tantalizing thing you’ve ever heard. She pulls away and looks critically at you. “Nigel knew what he was doing when he dressed you.” She says with a small smirk. “What an evil way to torture me all day.” She whispers.

You laugh and wink. “You can blame yourself for that. You spilled coffee all over me.” You tell her.

Miranda is mortified. She doesn’t remember that. “I… What?” She asks, confused.

“Forget it. I’ll tell you later.” You grin and start to trail kisses down to the base of her throat.

Miranda whines as she grips your hair, wanting you to keep going. You carefully pick her up and lie her on the bed before positioning yourself on top of her. “Let me take your shirt off, doll baby.” You tell her and begin unbuttoning her fancy blouse.

Miranda all but melts as she sees the feral look in your eyes. This is what she needs. To be taken care of and… Completely worshipped.

Note: Haha, so no smut, but the unexpected dom/sub dynamics were really fun to work with on a more emotional level. Depending on if y'all like this one, I may write some smut for it. Hope you enjoyed this!

Masterlist

#miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #dwp #miranda priestly x reader #devil wears prada #emily charlton #nigel kipling #caroline priestly #cassidy priestly #meryl streep #emily blunt #stanley tucci

[reiding-writing]

since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.

so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"

happy or sad ending, whatever you want

muah 💘

forgiven [ s.r ]

Summary:

You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST with a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j

happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3

Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.

So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.

But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.

Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.

He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.

He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.

And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.

His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.

He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.

He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.

You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.

“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.

He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.

“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.

“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”

“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.

“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.

“The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”

“Spencer-”

“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.

“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”

“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”

“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”

“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.

“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”

“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”

“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”

“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”

“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.

“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”

Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.

Nor does his response.

“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”

“Spencer-”

You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It’d been three weeks.

And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.

It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.

You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.

Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.

By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.

You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.

You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.

The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.

It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.

Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.

You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.

Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.

Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.

It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.

Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.

“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.

You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.

His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.

A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.

You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.

“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.

“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.

“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”

The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”

He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.

He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.

It was fine. You would be fine.

He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.

He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.

“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.

“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”

“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”

The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.

By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.

“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”

He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.

You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.

If something went wrong, that was it.

Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.

Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.

Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.

Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?

Maybe he was cursed.

Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.

He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.

He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.

He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.

The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.

As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.

“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”

Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.

“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”

Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”

“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.

“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.

The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.

Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.

Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.

Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.

His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.

“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.

The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”

“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.

“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.

“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”

Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”

You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.

“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.

He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.

You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.

If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.

“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.

“Forgiven…”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

[deadghosy]

MORE OF TRAILBLAZER!READER PLS PLS PLS PLS PLSSS, WHAT DOES THE ANGELS THINK OF TRAILBLAZER!READER???

HAZBIN HOTEL ANGELS X TRAILBLAZER! READER

prompt: how they viewed you in heaven was something no one excepted an angel like you to act.

I just gotta say. You are a fucking menace.

When you first appeared in heaven as the most beautiful thing with your golden eyes and two pair of wings….you weren’t the most nicest as you were too blunt.

“Is this a flash bang? Why the hell is it so bright here.”

everyone gasped at the H word as if this was kindergarten all over again

*cue you need to leave sound*

Sera had to put a few rules in your face. Literally a whole ass rule book as you sat there with a blank face saying. “Are you effing Fr?” Sera nodded and left leaving you with this HUMONGOUS ASS BOOK THAT REMINDED YOU OF FAIRLY ODD PARENTS

Sera founded you as a troubled youth that needs to see the rules all over again to see the true potential for you to stay in heaven.

Emily didn’t think of you being a troublemaker, she found you quite cool as you explored around heaven having the bravery to speak your mind and not let anything bring you down.

Emily and you got along great and fine as she calls you her little collector as you call her…just Em.

It was a late heavenly night as you stood up from your bed as you did a barrel roll for your balcony as you were starving for some digging. You rummage through the dumpster to find a nice old pearly necklace and a bracelet. “Emily would love this…” you said as you smiled not noticing a blonde haired lady watching you with an asumed smile.

The blonde haired lady from afar found you mysteriously cute and attractive as you roam the streets of heaven. 

ADAM HATES YOUR FUCKING GUTS😭😭

It all started when you was digging in trash. It was basically flirting for you to dig through it. *cue fuck boy face* AND THEN ADAM HAD SNUCK BEHIND YOU READY TO INSULT YOU-

But you kicked him straight in his fucking chin-

That horse ass kick gave him a bruise on his chin for legit 2 weeks

You once blasted music in your apartment…I mean shit it was good music you got from the human world you use to live in. You got so much noise complaints but thanks to Emily, she made it seem like you weren’t causing issues.

Lute has no opinions on you, she just doesn’t have time to even look at you. Even though you sometimes break in her place to eat all her food like the raccoon you are.

One day you actually caused trouble in heaven just because you decided to dig in a lady’s trash bin from outside.

“HEY GET OUT OF MY DARN TRASH BIN YOU RACCOON!” An angel yelled from her window throwing her boom at you as you swung your metal bat at her that you totally didn’t find in the trash nights ago…..

The lady screamed ducking as the bat went back into your grasp like a boomerang. “THATS IT! IM CALLING THE GUARDS!”

And so that was your cue to run as if your life depended on it as you thrown a rotten banana peel you found in your pocket. You still had one in your mouth.

And that’s how your 1 month trial ended because you fought bitches for your trash.

#stelle #caelus x reader #caelus #stelle x reader #hsr caelus #hsr #hsr stelle #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail #crossover #hazbin sera #hazbin hotel #hazbin Emily #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel angels #hazbin hotel Emily #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #Caelus! reader #stelle! reader #emily x reader #sera x reader #hazbin hotel adam

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

i’m starvin’, darlin’

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; emily has a penis, oral (r!receiving), masturbation, praise, facial, cum eating, fem petnames used

a/n: thank u to the anon who conjured this idea, hope this is enough to satisfy your slutty needs; title is from the song ‘eat your young’ by hozier

wc: 1.4k

You stood in the middle of your bedroom staring at your open wardrobe, you’d come home from work to change before meeting the remainder of the team for drinks and were frustrating yourself with your lack of decision making skills when it comes to an outfit.

You held two options in front of you as you looked in the mirror, hearing Emily click the lock of the bathroom door before she stepped into the room in only her jeans and a bra.

“Em, which one should I wear?” you asked her whilst she approached you from behind, not refraining from openly ogling every inch of your body she could see.

“Mm, either,” she murmured, resting her chin on your shoulder as her arms crept around you. “You look perfect in anything, sweetheart,” she breathed with her lips ghosting your neck.

“However far flattery gets you, it still doesn’t help me out,” you laughed, leaning your back against her as your belly swarmed at the open mouthed kisses she lay against your skin. “Babe, we don’t have time,” you added through a breathless voice, feeling heat wash all over you at the way her hands went wherever they pleased.

Fingertips stroked across your waist, creeping upwards until firm palms cupped your breasts. You chanced a look into the mirror hanging opposite you and almost lost your balance at the darkened eyes that stared back at you. Your girlfriend has never been shy to look at you, even before she finally claimed you as her own she wouldn’t look away when you’d catch her eyes on each curve of your body. She’s bold and she knows just what she wants and that mere fact alone makes your heart beat hard against your chest.

“You’re so perfect, pretty girl,” she whispered, swiping the tip of her tongue across the pulsepoint of your neck in a way that made you shudder.

“We’ve gotta leave soon,” you returned, watching the way her fingers pulled at your nipples through the padding of your bra, how her left hand crept its way downwards until it reached the waistband of your underwear.

“I can be quick,” she uttered, her voice deep and lusting. Strong hands pulled you to face her until you were pressed against her body, her hardening cock becoming apparent as it pushed against you through the denim of her jeans.

She pulled at your bottom lip between her teeth with her hot breath primal against you, and with the bluntness of her fingernails digging into your waist you were flush against her whilst her lips claimed yours in a kiss. It was heated and quick, fuelled by desperation and her primitive desire to taste you. Her tongue licked into your mouth as she guided you towards the bed; your head swarmed with Emily and the hands that pulled at your underwear.

The metal of her belt buckle clinked beneath your touch and once you’d rid her of her jeans, the bulge in her underwear was all you could focus on.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” she murmured against you, pushing you onto the mattress until your head lay against the pillows. With eyes glistening hungrily she observed you, the slit of your cunt already shining in arousal. She licked her lips at the sight, instantly pushing your thighs wide open with her arms holding you in place.

She pressed kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, sinking her teeth into the flesh with marks left behind whilst you peered down at her; dark hair tucked behind her ears with her head between your legs so ready to consume you as though she were starved.

“God, I could just devour you,” Emily rasped, swiping her tongue across your skin, climbing higher until the aroma of your heated sex was all she could focus on. Like she was parched and searching for satisfaction, she licked a stripe through your cunt as though it were the altar that gave her salvation.

A moan caught in the back of your throat at the way she hollowed out her cheeks with a determined suck to your clit, flicking the pointed end of her tongue over the swollen bud. She groaned against you at the taste, swallowing it down with delight while her hands grabbed at your thighs with the aim to leave behind bruises of possession.

You heard each fervent lick of her tongue, each sloppy kiss and suck, wet and raw as though she’d been denied the pleasure of your taste on her lips. And, with the pleasured sighs she pulled from you, the quiet of the room was soon filled.

Svelte digits slid into you with ease, curling effortlessly with a precision rehearsed over time until they pushed against the part of you that arched your back from the freshly laundered sheets underneath you.

Your hand tangled within her hair, nails scraping at her scalp and fist clenching with each wave of ecstasy that surged through you. The way you pulled at the dark locks elicited a sound almost akin to a growl from the woman between your legs and it only spurred her on, burying her fingers into your pussy with a desperate ache to pull you over the edge.

“C’mon, baby,” she breathed, lips nudging against your sensitive bud. “Lemme hear how good I make you feel.”

You glanced down to be met with her cocky smirk, eyes trained on yours whilst she continued her pace. With only a few more laps of her flattened tongue through your cunt, your walls clenched around her digits as the shocks of orgasm ran through you. The strength of her hands stopped your thighs from clamping together whilst she rode you through your high, swallowing each drop of your arousal that she could before she pulled away with wet lips.

She lifted herself onto her knees whilst your chest quickly rose and fell in search of breath and she looked down at you as though you were the most beautiful thing she had ever set her sights upon.

“Fuck, look what you do to me,” she breathed, pulling at her underwear to set her cock free from their restraints. The tip was shining with precum whilst she slid her hand along the thick length, swiping her thumb through the leaking head as she shuffled her way upwards until her knees were planted on either side of your waist.

Your hands reached up to squeeze her breasts beneath your palms and she leaned down for a kiss, letting you taste yourself on the tongue that fought against yours. And, while slow and lust-filled kisses were shared, her hand stayed between your bodies dragging along the throbbing dick that pressed against your torso.

She grunted into your mouth at the heat flowing through her, the impending orgasm quickly approaching with each twitch of her hips into her palm.

“You drive me crazy,” she stuttered out through breaths that were growing faster, sitting back until her thighs pressed against her calves and your eyes were zeroed in on the fast hand wrapped around her dick. “Jus’ sit back and look pretty, sweet girl,” she murmured, watching as you bit your lip, writhing beneath her with the throbbing between your legs. You knew this would have to continue later tonight - there was no way you could endure the entire evening without another taste of what she gives you.

Her hips stuttered into her hand with each mumble of admiration thrown your way until hot, white spurts of cum leaked from the head of her cock. You felt it land against your cheek and she only smirked down at you whilst she painted your skin with her cum, milking herself of all she could give until she could admire the drops against your face. You licked it from your bottom lip as Emily continued slow strokes against her cock, riding herself through the pleasure, eyeing each bead of her seed that lay across your face.

“Always such a messy girl, hm?” she teased, swiping her fingers through her cum on your face before forcing them past your lips. “Swallow it all down, baby,” she added in a murmur, fucking her fingers into your mouth whilst your tongue licked them clean so you could consume all that she fed you.

“Em, I was almost ready to leave,” you pouted once she pulled away with her digits coated in your saliva.

“Then, let's get you cleaned up,” she laughed. “But, don’t think for a second that I’m done with you.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds

[mournings-stars]

Lute x Charlie’s Best Friend

from this request by @lixanjewel

i may need to make a part two cus i kinda love this little enemies to lovers flirtation-situation-ship

this is a fem reader but i’ll happily write anything else as well!! :)

A meeting in Heaven was never something you expected. And you certainly didn’t expect Charlie to ask you to come with her — sure, you’d known each other since you were kids, and sure, you were the first person to support her ideas before Vaggie, and sure, you did a lot of planning…

Maybe you did have a right to go with them—

“Of course you do!” Charlie snapped you out of your thoughts as she packed her suitcase, yours (a backpack) packed and in your hands as you waited for her while you, apparently, thought out loud. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” She was bouncing in place, shutting her suitcase before she turned to you. “And you are gonna be so proud of yourself when we show them this dream is real! I couldn’t have done this without you!” You gave her a small smile before Vaggie came in. “Either of you!”

The rest of the morning was spent saying goodbye, getting that one wall destroyed, and sending your friends off with the person who destroyed it before you entered the portal to Heaven.

After making it past the gates, meeting Saint Peter, Sera, and Emily, you were touring with Charlie while Vaggie stayed at the hotel, the trip seeming to be taking a toll on her. To put it simply, she was in an awful mood, looking like she was going to be sick.

“Look, look, look!” Charlie squealed, pointing at a very fluffy white animal as she grabbed your arm.

That was how your entire trip to the zoo went before you got lunch with Emily, who was the one showing you around. She got the two of you food and drinks and when you went to sit, you cautiously excused yourself to continue looking around while they talked.

You took your drink with you as you walked the promenade, taking in the environment. It made you wonder what it’d be like if things were different — if you were born in Heaven rather than Hell.

“Enjoying your visit?” You were startled out of your thoughts by a girl dressed in all grey. Even her blunt cut hair was a pale grey. You recognized the uniform as an exorcist’s, but you had half a mind to think you were jumping to conclusions without the horns and X over her eye to prove it, but her eyes were gold — and they look far too warm to be so menacing. “Lute,” she introduced before the silence became awkward, sticking her hand out.

“Pretty,” was the first thing that came to your mind. She raised a very judgmental brow at you. “I meant your name… is pretty — well, actually, no, that’s not what I meant, but it is… pretty — like the instrument.” Her brow relaxed, and you sighed, feeling less like Charlie and her bundle of excited nerves and more like yourself and your internal bundle of excited nerves. You introduced yourself and took her hand, shaking with a smile. “I’m usually not so nervous,” you said.

“New environment,” she shrugged. “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested and brought her hand to your back to turn you in the direction you’d been going before she stopped you. “I thought only two of you were coming.”

“Charlie asked me to go with her for moral support.” Lute nodded along. “Childhood friends and all…”

“You’re Hell-born, then,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway. “Shame,” she muttered. “Maybe her little redemption idea could’ve actually worked with you.”

You paused. Surely, she was insulting you. “I should’ve realized,” you said, taking a second look at this angel. She wasn’t just a pretty girl wearing a uniform that resembled an exorcist uniform; it was an exorcist uniform and their LED light masks came with artificial horns. That meant if she knew about the reason for your visit, she was the one that was there during Charlie’s first meeting. And suddenly, the name, “Lute,” sounded very familiar from one of Charlie’s rants.

“I did introduce myself,” she said haughtily, “not that I expect a low-class demon to pick up context clues—“

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. Her very pretty eyes, which looked like gold, now looked like… corn — or something — (it was the meanest thing you could think of), and her very pretty name, which sounded like music, now sounded like some kind of crime you would expect from an exorcist angel.

Lute laughed, taking pause for a moment before she did and nearly doubling over as she walked with you.

“Are you insane?” You asked with a sneer that made her laugh harder.

“No one’s ever told me to shut up like that.” She calmed herself down, snickering to herself. “Insane,” she laughed. “You must be, thinking you can speak to an angel like that.”

“Must be.”

And despite that, she kept walking with you. Neither of you knew where you were walking toward, but you kept walking anyway, her with her nose in the air and a pompous smile, and you looking anywhere but at her.

Finally, you broke the silence, “Were you following me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Orders.”

“Why me?”

“Orders,” she emphasized like you were stupid.

“I heard you,” you mocked her tone. “But why the orders to follow me?” Then a very snarky idea popped into your mind as you smirked at her. “Unless you just blindly follow orders like some little bitch on a leash—“

“Do you want to die?”

It was your turn to laugh, shrugging. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

That, she didn’t respond to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away. “Adam wanted to know why you were actually here, seeing as the hearing only includes the princess and her…” She waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust on her face.

“Partner?”

She shook her head, scoffing. “That relationship is vile.”

You scoffed the same. “Is that something that keeps people out of Heaven, too?” You asked curiously, thinking of the many sinners you knew who seemed nice enough. “Vile relationships like theirs?” Lute frowned at you, looking confused.

“Oh, right,” she said, like she knew something you didn’t, and laughed. “You think I mean because they’re both girls, but thats not it.”

“It’s not?” You raised a brow and took a very long sip of your drink.

“Of course not. They just disgust me.” You laughed ironically, seeing no other answer for her hatred. “I don’t care how they choose to live their lives,” she insisted.

“You don’t need to convince me. We all have our assumptions of what Heaven thinks of people like us. I’m sure some of the… what do you call them? Winners? Said the same things when they were alive.”

Lute looked very uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “No one who thinks like that would be allowed into Heaven.”

“Doubt it. Did you have orders to talk to me, too?” You moved on quickly, making her chew the inside of her cheek.

“Unfortunately.” She huffed. “You do a lot of the princess’ research, don’t you?” You hummed. “Interviews?”

“I don’t like talking to people—“

“Clearly—“

“—who don’t like talking to me.”

“I can tell.” Her uncomfortable expression dropped and she laughed under her breath. “I’m glad I won't have to see you in court later. I don’t know how I’d respond to your accusatory defense.”

“Good thing Charlie didn’t want to take my advice for this, then.”

And Lute stopped walking very abruptly. She gave you a very kind smile and said, “I enjoyed our chat. Thanks for your time.” She looked very pleased, like she made you admit something to help her case.

“You’re welcome for the information,” you said lamely. “Charlie will achieve what she wants, Lute,” you said as she began to walk away.

“Not without your help,” and when she said your name, you quickly turned away from her golden eyes staring you down and walked back to Charlie and Emily.

There was absolutely no way you were about to (extremely gayly) overthink what was barely a conversation with a girl you didn’t like because of one sentence that wasn’t even a compliment.

Absolutely not. No way. Not happening—

“What girl is it this time?” You nearly shrieked when you heard Charlie, having walked all the way back to her and Emily where they were laughing.

“Charlie told me you have a talent for falling in love,” Emily giggled with Charlie. “Did you meet someone?”

“Or are you just talking to yourself?” Charlie teased, laughing.

Of course, all you could think to say was, “shut up,” which made you think back to the not-conversation you had with Lute. “Don’t we have a hearing to prepare for, or something?!”

#hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute #lute x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #blurb #drabble #hazbin fanfic

[hotchs-big-hands]

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅

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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.

"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.

"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.

"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."

The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.

"Oh? Do tell us more."

"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.

"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."

Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.

"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.

Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.

A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.

"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.

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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.

Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.

"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.

"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.

"You're distracted."

Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.

"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.

"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.

"Anything I can do to help?"

You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.

"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.

"Thank you, sir."

You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.

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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.

"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.

"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."

You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.

"Sorry, I'll drink slower."

JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.

Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.

"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.

"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.

"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.

"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"

You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.

"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"

"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."

More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.

"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."

You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.

"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.

"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.

"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.

"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.

"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.

"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"Excuse me?"

Spencer cleared his throat.

"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.

"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."

Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.

It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.

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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.

"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.

"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.

The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.

"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.

"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.

"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.

"She doesn't scare me."

"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."

"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."

You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.

"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.

"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."

A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.

"I'm not getting involved."

Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.

"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.

"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.

"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."

In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.

Oh.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.

Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.

"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.

"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.

"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"

The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.

"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."

Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.

"I know that."

"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"

"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."

You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.

"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.

"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.

"I know."

You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.

"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."

Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.

"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.

The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.

There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.

You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.

"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.

"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.

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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.

Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.

Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.

Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.

"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.

"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."

You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.

"What's wrong?"

Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.

"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."

You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.

"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.

"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."

Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.

"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.

"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."

He raised a brow at you.

"Really now?"

Your eyes widened and you stuttered.

"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.

"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."

A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.

"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.

"Good night, sir."

He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.

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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖

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