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harlowcomehome · 3 months

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Runaway husband:

Angst storyline!

⚠️: Slapping with open hand.

You woke up to the sound of muffled baby cries filling the room, that was your new “normal” since having your son just three short months ago. He had come down with a cold, which wasn’t abnormal for his age or the season but you were still internally panicking.

Your life was a lot different than you originally thought it would be. A year ago you would’ve thought you’d be married to the love of your life, your husband would be a doting father and beyond successful recording artist and all else would fall into place but life always has a twisted way of humbling those thoughts.

You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bedroom next to yours. “Awww papa, what’s wrong?” You whispered as you turned on the lamp that sat adjacent to the door, illuminating the room enough to get a good look at his face. His eyes were hazel, his hair was barely coming in, he was all cheek and chubby legs but even at his young age, you knew he was his father’s twin. You grimaced, wondering how this was all going to play out, “oh Emmett, mama has weak genes I guess” You rubbed your finger against his chubby cheeks.

Those close to you knew the truth, but most of the world didn’t even know you were pregnant and you wanted to keep it that way, it would be easier if Jack wasn’t involved. (At least that’s what you had convinced yourself of.) You had spent most of your time cooped up in your house, worried someone would catch a glimpse of your son and put the pieces together.

You took care of the built-up snot in his small button nose making sure he could breathe properly before you rocked him back to sleep in your grandma's antique cherry oak rocking chair. You knew he was in a deep sleep when he started to coo. You triple-checked the owlet smart sleep sock that your best friend swore by, and the baby monitor one more time before tiptoeing back to your room.

You knew you’d have a hard time falling back asleep, spending most of your early mornings googling Jack's name and wondering what he had been up to these days. A part of you felt a sense of guilt, letting him go on about his life without knowing he fathered a child, and the other part of you was elated you didn’t have to share him.

Jack had been spotted recently, it seemed he was dating a talent agent, his first real publicized relationship since the two of you split. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock the wind out of you and make you want to scream, the comparisons of her body and your post-baby body only making you feel worse.

You checked the time, knowing Louisville was only a few hours ahead sending a quick text before tossing your phone on the bed beside you and waiting. It never took her long to reply, it usually only took seconds and on the rare occasion minutes.

Your phone started to buzz immediately, she was always eager to speak to you.

“Hi Maggie” you spoke softly, not wanting to wake Emmett who was in the bedroom beside yours.

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s my Em doing?” She hummed, taking every opportunity given to her to ask you for updates.

“He's still fighting that nasty cold, but can’t wait for you to visit next week. It’s still just you, right?” Your sentences were laced with worries and concerns, it would be her first time seeing her grandson in the flesh.

“I made a promise that I intend to keep” she reiterated knowing you needed to hear it.

“Thank you” You bit back tears, never able to hold it back when you spoke to her. You continued the conversation for several minutes, neither of you bringing Jack's name into it for the sake of pleasantries.

••••

You often wondered how or when you’d have to tell Emmett about his father, and if Jack would ever be in the picture. As you fed your baby for the second time today, you pondered how this visit with his paternal grandmother would go.

Emmett was your entire world, your saving grace when life came crashing down, but you worried he’d resent you for keeping him hidden especially with all Jack had to offer.

Maggie had found out about your pregnancy when you were about seven months pregnant and when she saw pure panic and disdain in your face she knew that Jack wasn’t the least bit aware. You were visiting your parents and knew Jack was touring so you thought it would be safe to leave their house, but were met with one of the main people you wanted to avoid.

You and Jack had dated for less than six months, five months and two weeks to be exact before he was down on one knee in front of his entire family and friend group, announcing to all of them that he had found the person he’d spend forever with.

Your small friend group had never seen you so in love, not a single one questioning your timeline or relationship which was honestly a breath of fresh air. Jack had zero worry about your intentions, feeling like he could be his authentic self with you was a sigh of relief he had never felt before.

You were engaged and setting a wedding date just two months later, not wanting to waste any time. In the moment things just felt right, you had never been so sure and Jack hadn’t either but when he didn’t show up at your wedding venue things quickly went from passionate to devastating within moments.

You still remembered the sound of your red bottom heels clacking against the marble floor as you angrily searched the property for him, knowing he had to be around somewhere, his jeep still parked where he left it the night before. Your white wedding gown was covered in dirt on the bottom as you ran around in a panic.

Urban left the two of you alone only after you promised you wouldn’t lay a hand on him, your fingers sneakily crossed behind your back.

As the door slammed shut, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, the intense feeling of vomiting that hadn’t subsided for a while was coming over you, but you choked it down.

“What’s going on?” Your hands trembled and your voice shook as Jack sat before you with his face in his hands, his palms pressed hard into his eye sockets as he tried to contain his own emotions.

“I can’t marry you today” he finally spoke, looking up at your disappointed face. He hadn’t seen the wedding gown you chose until now, his breath wavering as you had never looked beautiful, yet so broken.

“Was it something I did?” You couldn’t fathom that you had done anything wrong, just two nights ago you were entangled in bed together, talking about the future as your naked bodies stuck together by beads of sweat.

“It’s something I did actually” he sighed, knowing he was too embarrassed to be completely honest about what was going on, trusting the wrong people wasn’t something he wanted to boast about.

“Jack- just talk to me. We can figure this out together” You were trying to hold your tears in, but were incapable of doing so. The weight of the world was on your shoulders and you’d give anything to keep him.

“I just don’t love you like how I thought” he lied, but he needed to hurt you. He wanted you to hate him, it would be easier than telling you he was nearly broke. He wanted you to run far and fast, away from his life that was about to implode.

Jack had always carried himself with pride, especially when it came to money. He made a lot of it, took care of it, invested in all the right things, and got a financial advisor to help him make the right moves, so when he found out the night before your wedding that someone on his team was embezzling more than half of his earnings, getting married was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted to keep this under wraps, his biggest fear was coming to light and he didn’t want to entangle you in that too.

“That's fucking bullshit and you know it” You let out a humorless laugh, annoyed at his antics. “Tell me the truth” you pleaded, still standing in front of him.

“I don’t want to be with you! I need to be with someone on my level, someone who excites me. That’s why I’m not going through with this. You don’t even know me, we’ve only been together for what? Five whole seconds? ” he rambled on for as long as you’d let him, the metaphoric knife twisting and turning as you studied his face.

His eyes were hollow, with almost no emotion behind them as his tongue continued to spit venom in your direction.

Without thinking you slapped him, as hard as you could manage, a stinging in your hand as you threw your engagement rings in his face, a family heirloom from his grandmother.

“Fuck you! You’re a coward!” You practically spit on him, filled with rage and anger as you turned your back toward him and slammed the door shut. You had no idea what happened, the man you loved was someone you didn’t recognize and you didn’t believe anything he had said not even for a second.

Why wouldn’t he want to be with me? What happened? Is something threatening him? Am I safe?

Tons of things crossed your mind that night but you couldn’t place why you didn’t believe him, you still knew he loved you but you couldn’t make him choose you and you didn’t want to force it either.

That was the last time you saw Jack in person and you wanted to keep it that way.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you realized how nauseous you had been feeling. You took a pregnancy test and practically fell to the ground when the words immediately showed.

Pregnant.

Finding out you were with child wasn’t exactly the exciting news it would’ve been weeks ago but regardless you were going to have a baby even if you were going to do it alone.

••••

When Maggie didn’t arrive at your house when she said she would, you started to worry. You wondered if you should call, or go to the airport and look for her. You were worried maybe her phone died, or she got cold feet just like her son.

You started to pack Emmett’s diaper bag, having called Maggie twice with no response wasn’t sitting well with you. Your anxiety was heightened, and you felt a wave of uneasiness come over you.

You were concerned about the fact that Maggie had your address, wondering if she had shared it with anyone. You decided to pack to stay at your parent's place, hiding out there until you felt calm again.

When you suddenly got a notification from your ring camera, you checked immediately seeing Maggie get out of the Uber alone. You released a deep breath knowing she had kept her word, opening your door as she rushed inside.

You hugged her, and you felt your eyes sting as she held you tight. Her chestnut curls identical to the ones you missed holding close.

“It’s been so long” she smiled, looking around the room for a bassinet of some sort.

“He’s sleeping in here” You walked over to his bedroom, motioning for her to follow you.

The two of you stood above his crib, watching as he shuffled around. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she came to the realization that she was a grandma.

“He looks-“ she paused not wanting to upset you.

“Trust me, I know” you giggled. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. I’m going to put your bag in your bedroom. Just let me know if you need anything” You smiled as she nodded and took a seat in the rocking chair.

Maggie had only been at your home for a few hours when your doorbell rang, you had wondered if she ordered food delivery. When you checked the doorbell camera your heart practically stopped.

“Maggie—“You walked into Emmett’s room wild-eyed and stressed as you watched her rock him back and forth with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Why is your son here?” You were beyond overwhelmed, the room started to spin and you felt tingly all over, it wasn’t until you hit the floor with a loud thud that Maggie realized you weren’t the least bit joking.

When you were finally conscious you heard a faint voice you recognized, the distinct Kentucky accent rang in your ears as you overheard them talking. Clay had managed to put you on the couch, tucking a pillow behind your head.

“How did you find me so fast though? I don’t understand” Maggie was panicked, a tone that seemed genuine.

“You share your location with us. There’s no reason for you to be here so I came to check it out” Clay groaned replying very matter-of-factly.

“She's not going to let us see him, I know I messed up” She was being genuine and you could tell. Clay realized you were finally awake, as he held his nephew against his chest, he motioned to Maggie.

“She has to let him at least see the baby. He’s his dad” Clay mumbled, worried you’d overhear.

“Clay- bring my son to me please” You slowly sat up on the couch and held your arms out.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t tell anyone why I was here or what I was doing but I’m not sure if Jack knows where we are. Clay turned both of our locations off now” She was crouched down beside you on the couch as Clay carefully handed Emmett to you.

“I need both of you to sit down so we can talk about everything” Your lip quivered, knowing there was no way out at this point.

“When Jackman shows up, and I do mean when because I know for a fact that if you’re here it’s only a matter of time” You narrowed your eyes at Clay, not necessarily upset at him just defensive of the situation.

“I didn’t tell him” Clay sat up straight, leaning his elbows against his thighs as he leaned forward.

“You didn’t?” You looked over at him and then Maggie, wondering why everyone was so willing to let you keep such a big secret.

“I figured if you were hiding him, there had to be a reason” Clay shrugged, his eyes mulling over Emmett’s features as he waited for a response.

“If either one of you can tell me the real reason we didn’t get married, I might just change my mind.”

••••

Part two here!

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow angst #Jack Harlow fanfic

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simp-ly-writes · 16 days

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Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.7)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: Kidnapped, heartbroken, and thoroughly pissed off, you become a one man team- breaking through restraints, into houses and cars to find a way back home.

Warnings: 5000~ words, light swearing, blood, violence, torture.

A/N: these chapters keep getting longer and longer it seems. I will try and hold back my yapping... anyways! hope you all enjoy! :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.

Body bruised and scraped from being thrown around with the various landscaping tools around you, your head slammed against the door as the vehicle came to a halt. You took deep breaths in and out, picking up the dead-fish smell in the air. You were near the industry sector and by the sounds of the gravel crunching beneath everyone’s feet, you were upshore.

Three slams against a metal door and it creaked open and you pushed inside, stumbling with the bag over your head and losing balance as your feet were chained together as well. Shuffling back to a stand, the men above you laughed before a bucket of ice cold water was drenched over your body making you instantly shiver.

Breathing in through your nose sharply as the bag was then torn off your head, you found yourself lazily strapped to a wooden chair- it creaked everytime you shifted your weight. Eyes blurry to the newfound light, you blinked a few times before the once blob in front of your face turned into features and a broken-toothed smile was gracing just before your lips. Their cigarette breath causes bile to rise up in your throat yet you kept a natural expression, staring between their eyes to the crooked bridge of their nose.

A cigarette was being lit to your left side, they flicked the ashes on your suit as the sparks burned against your skin. Taking a quick glance down, you tried not to frown seeing your once beige suit now a tattered mess of brown and grey with various cuts breaking the soft plaid pattern. The head man, the one to choke you in the first place, takes a step back and sits on a metal chair behind himself, taking a drag of the shared cigarette before mockingly dangling it in your face. “Want a drag, dearest?”

You make no comment, just staring off past his shoulder, silently observing your surroundings for more clues. You press your head against your shoulder, mocking a scratch behind your ear as your comms flood your eardrums once more. Samantha is crying and losing her actual shit as John raises his tone at one of the nearby officers- not allowing him to check the security footage. That makes sense as to why Samantha is currently losing it- more unnecessary work to hack into the system.

Thinking to yourself, this is more relaxing, getting to sit down and take a break, being on the receiving end of the saving than being the sole savior. You can’t help but produce a small smirk as you roll back your shoulders and lean back into the chair, spreading your legs for comfort. “You gettin’ comfortable there? Good, enjoy it while you can. God knows- I know- the work you’ll be doing after this with a body like yours.”

You chuckle, foot now dragging up his leg and positioned in his lap. “But why go through all the hassle, sir? When I could stay, just, right… here” you foot ghosts over his lower abdomen, you relish the sharp intake of breath that signals success. “Mmm, well as good as that would be for the both of us…” he takes a drag of his cigarette, finishing it off on your leg as it places a burn mark on your ankle. “...my brothers could use someone like you, a fighter, a killer of their own. Takes a special kind of fucked up to do the things you have done…” his hand now drags up your leg, fingers dancing over every cut to touch the skin of your leg as you stay still.

“...and if you remain that kind of person for em’, I can only promise rewards beyond your imagination,” he finishes with, stopping his chase of skin at your upper thighs before carrying your leg off his lap and standing. “Now before we get started, is there anything you wish to tell your newest contractor?”

“And what information would that include?” you press forward, blinking twice. “Anythin’ you are wishing to share before I force it outta ya, making both of our jobs easier.”

“Ask your men to leave and I’ll be an open book, can have a nice date about it,” you counter-offer, smile returning to match his one. With one motion of his hand, the room clears outside of the warehouse, the rusty door creaking closed to a slam. “Speak.”

“I was contracted to Greece in order to capture that royal you were after-”

“Who was your contractor then?” They lean forward, as if smelling your hair as you face forwards, tone even. “Undisclosed- manager wanted utmost privacy and I respected that, which made the job easier in the end.”

“And if the job was as easy as you said, why waste tears over a tool to be used for the bag?” They whisper into your ear, you swear to feel them smirk as a bead of sweat drips down your forehead, racing towards the muddied floors below. You wrap a leg around your chair, your hands almost free from the cheap rope they used from the gardiners truck as you access the best way to take this man to the ground and to make your escape.

“I am loyal,” you state, the one truth you have slipped today. “Well that is a blessing and a curse, we have a dilemma on our hands already with you…” His hand drifts up, resting on the back of your neck. You pray that Samantha shuts the fuck up in your ear, unknowling if he can hear her screaming or not. “...Very, very loyal it seems. I am disappointed. Seems as though you already need a lesson, a shame.”

And with that, his fist slams against the bag of your head as you fall towards the floor, finally freed. You snake your feet around his ankles, forcing him down with you and cover his mouth with one of your hands, racing to unhook your necktie as you force it around his throat, trying to buy yourself more time by muffleing his pain. He uses his body weight to roll out from under you, slamming a kick to your side as you curse out. The tie falls around his neck as he wobbles to a stand and you begin to run, hearing the doors slam open as your hand just graces the exit.

Bullets are flying around your head as you duck and weave over the various barrels in the room, looking for a window as another set of guards burst through the door you were just about to use. Quicking throwing yourself back around, you twist your arm with the motions, a series of knives falling from between your suit's fabric and directly between their eyes. Pressing your hand to your ear, “I need immediate evac, industry sector, meeting at south rally point when available.”

Glass cuts across your face as you fly out the window and roll into a run. Trees rip past and blur your surroundings as you follow the sun above you. The sounds of the sea call to you as you make a sharp turn in their direction, their shouts muffled by the ringing in your ears as you hear your shallow breathing, feel as if time is moving slowly for you once more as your body jerks forward. A dull aching feeling against your back, they managed a shot.

The sound of a boat horn slams through your consciousness as you slip down a hill, lengths over extending as you race onto a rammed road filled with cars against the coastline. Drivers honk as you race between cars in the road, policemen call after you, guns raised as well as you race to the front of the accident. A series of cars wait, driving slowly past the crash, the car nowhere to be seen but the rip in the divider separating road from sea as you shake your head before ripping over a divers door.

The woman shrieks at you scream out apology after apology, ripping the keys out from her hands before slamming on the gas and racing down the seaside. Sirens sound from behind you as you see the red and blue lights flashing in your rearview mirror as you curse out. Drifting around a corner as the radio decides to start itself in the junk of a car you managed for yourself.

You roll your eyes at the “white girl” music plays through the radio as you find yourself soaring through another seaside town, car picking up the various displays set on the small street as lights attach to your side mirrors, carrying them down the street with you like a “just-married” car.

You make a sour face at the thought, eyes saddening as look around your surroundings for directions to the nearest rallypoint, the cops in mad pursuit still behind you, some even sneaking up the road in front. A spike trap sounds, popping your wheels as sparks behind to fly, you punch open the window as the song finishes to your bumper crashing into the side of a building. You fall out the side of the car, running up the skin as your legs and lungs burn. Adrenaline causing your hands to feverishly shake as you climb up the lattice of a townhome and crash into their living space. A little boy screams at you as you hold your hands up, pleading that you do not mean to harm the small child before you race down the galley kitchen and slam into the wall, turning to find another glass door to a balcony where the next apartment appears empty.

Jumping across the balcony and onto the next, you break the glass door, and feel for the door handle on the other side. It is dark and sparsely decorated. You feel around the kitchen for a cup, taking a minute to take a sip of water from the tap before throwing the glass to the floor- trying to hide any biological evidence of yourself before looking wildly for the stairs downstairs.

You fail to hear your communications during this chase, your radio buffering in and out as you curse out to Simon's concerned voice asking for an update to your location. You finally find the stairs, emerging onto the town streets once more as you hide yourself in an alleyway. Watching as the blue uniformed men and women carry up the street. Looking over the various backdoors, you find a logo with a dress on it and softly open and close the door to what appears to be a storage room.

You shuffle through the various boxes, finding a range of formal garments and finally at the back, a box of clothes to be donated; shoes and casual wear alike, as you strip yourself of your tattered suit and force it into the bottom of the box. You press your hair down, taking out your earring- knowing that they would make you some serious cash from being pure gold as you strip off your watch with a sad wince. Note to self, no longer wear gifts on missions.

Walking back onto the street with a more casual stride, you find a pawn shop a few blocks down as your stomach gurgles and gain a few thousands dollars that you stuff into your pockets as the shopkeeper does not bat to fucks to. Clothes, Money, check and check.

You just needed food, a good drink and a car out of here. Thankfully you found a small street-side vendor as you ordered yourself an espresso shot and breakfast sandwich as your mouth salivated at the sight of it. Humming out contently at the taste of it as you walked back down to the seaside to examine your destruction- stealing a hat off a rack as you walked down the streets. The fedora covered your features as you pressed your head down, taking another sip of your drink while eyeing around for a phone.

A tourist couple was just about to pay for a bill- perfect. “Excuse me,” you smiled brightly at the two of them, “Is there anything we can help you with?” The woman asked kindly, her charming posh british accent relaxing your features. “Yes, would you mind if I made a quick call to my spouse on the phone- I can’t seem to find them down here.”

“Ah, no problem dear! Here you are, take as much time as you need, we are just finishing up here.”

“Thank you so much!” You flash another smile back, turning your back as it drops just as quickly, your fingers fly across the digits as two rings pass and Kyle's voice sounds in your ear. “Who is this?”

“Oh Kyle darling,” you fake a loving tone, breathing out an exaggerated sigh of relief as your eyes scan the streets. “I can’t seem to find you anywhere, see I am waiting at…” you look up to see the restaurant's name. “... Lola’s, where are you currently?”

You humm to every word he speaks, nodding your head lightly as you grip the phone, smiling at an officer that passes you by with a tip of their hat. “The team and I are about thirty minutes out from your location, are you able to keep this phone?”

“No, sorry dear, I do not see you, ummm, is there a place we could meet up between the both of us?”

“I am dear now?” Kyle chuckles out, “What happened to darling?” you roll your eyes, coughing for him to cut the crap. “Walk 10 minutes east through the alleyways till you see Pearl Bar and Shop, silver car.”

“Alright! Heading over now, see you in a few sweetheart!” and you end the call, sending a thanks to the couple before making your way back into the town core. Various scooters race past you in bright colours, kids kick their soccer balls around the fountain as mothers sit on its ledge, snapping pictures happily. You smile sadly at the sight, your eyes drifting back to the sea, to Whitby, as a cold breeze snaps against your skin as you stumble from the pressure of its ghast and slide back into the alleyways- towards the meet point.

“You look like shit,” Soap comments ever-so-kindly with a chuckle before offering you a sip of beer as you sit at the back of the plane on your way back to headquarters. “Well you kill fifteen guys, one of them your potential spouse, get kidnapped, traumatize a child and then sit on a plane with four men for the next few hours.”

“Well when you put it like that…” you shove his shoulder, walking further up the plane and check up on Simon in the cockpit. “How much longer we got?” you groan out, pressing your head against the doorway as Ghost takes a quick glance back at you, setting the plane to autopilot. “You holding up alright, Handler?” Not answering your question as you send him a glare.

“What do you all fuckin’ think- you all seem to high and jolly with this shit-”

“And you appear like it's not affecting you all that much-”

“WELL WHEN ELSE HAVE YOU SEEN ME A DISHEVELLED MESS IN A FEDORA AND SANDALS?” you scream out, taking another deep sink of your drink, sliding against the wall and to the floor as Gaz unbuckles himself from his seat to kneel in front of you. “I am sorry you have had to go through these things, Dee…” you shake your head at his words.

“No you all don’t understand-”

“No, we do Daniels, and here's the thing. It only gets more fucked up from here on out, you lose the ones you love, you hate yourself for it, you want to fucking kill them yourself for making you feel guilty, kill everyone, kill yourself. We all wanna do it, we all have people we are fighting for- livin’ and dead but here's the thing. Its a job at the end of the day, no matter how fucked up it is, no matter how much we cry and bitch about it- we do our job so that other’s hands stay clean,” John states, turning around from the other piloting seat as he now leans against the doorframe, looking down at you.

You stay quiet absorbing his words as he continues to speak, “we will mourn the loss, he was a good man- a great man to all the good he did for others but he wouldn’t want you this way. Not even right after his death- he always cheered on your fight. Now the decision is up to you, are you staying to fight or are you gonna wallow and retire?”

You nod your head along before slamming your head back against the metal wall, needing the coldness to ease the tension in your muscles. “I’m gonna fight,” you speak in a soft tone- still trying to convince yourself of the idea. “... thank you, John. You’re the first person to not sugar coat my losses… needed to hear it.”

John hums out, leaving down to give your shoulder a squeeze in an awkward side hug before taking control of the plane once more as Simon moves to take a nap at the back of the plane. “Want another beer?” Johnny yells as Simon throws a pillow in his face. You press your hand into a thumbs up, leaning so the signal is visible from down the hall as the glass bottle rolls to your feet as you and Gaz take sips while in a staring contest with one another.

12:00 PM | Spring | Eglinton Funeral Home and Cemetery

You are severely drunk at Whitby's funeral, his parents stand to the side, unknowing to who you and your entourage was that stand at the back underneath a willow tree whose branches drift off towards the sun's rays. 141 and you are dressed to the tens in three-piece suits, pure black accents - you all are shadows of yourselves. Watching as the family and friends walk away you step forwards and stand in front of the open casket, the first thing you notice is his missing glasses. Fixing a hair on his rested head your fingers shake over his cheek before grasping his hand one last time. To your surprise when you unravel it, a diamond ring falls out into your palm as you chuckle back a sob and place it into his suit pocket- right above his heart.

You bow your head, whispering a prayer before taking one last look and finally turn your back on the past. You stumble in your shoes over the uneven pavement stones towards the event hall where ushed cries and somber music play with trays of fresh fruit displayed against the back wall. You blow your nose into your handkerchief before guzzling down a glass of water as Gaz pats your back reassuringly when a family member walks by, glaring at your group. They all didn’t know the shit you both got up to together, how close you were- close to so much more…

Shaking your head, John came back with a plate of fruit for you all to pick at as Whitby’s will is read aloud. You need to sit as you fumble with the buttons of your suit, suddenly feeling too hot as the rest of your crew stands around to shield you from the curious stares of the fellow funeral goers. “Friends, Family, and those connected to Sir Wyatt Whitby. We gather here today to remember a man of great strength, who served his country and had a great sense of humor.”

A series of posh chuckles sound around the room as you feel yourself mentally drifting further and further away from this moment. You would have never fit in with his family, if you ever were to tell them of the danger you put their son into… you probably wouldn’t be breathing any longer… and with that thought, there was a deep part of you that believed you deserved such treatment from your more recent history.

In the few months leading up to the funeral, Whitby’s body had been frozen and preserved so that the headquarters could stage a more believable death to the agent for his remaining family and outside friends. This violently disgusted you, having to see him every time you went to check biological evidence with the scientists in the west wing. Yet John’s words were concrete, pouding in your skull, “fight like he would want you to…” and so you did, and rather brutally at that.

You forced yourself back onto the field, demanding it from upper management- refusing promotion after promotion as Samantha became your new Handler in this turn of events. You often wore dark blue navy suits to hide the blood that drenched every part of the fabric as you shot and hacked away at various bodies on your missions. No witnesses to be left between you and the goal. You will never forget the fearful eyes of that one politician as you gripped their shoulder into the helicopter, your bloody hand staining their crisp white shirt and some of it began to drip into your eye from your hair yet you could not care.

Management was thoroughly satisfied with your independent work- you were the most requested contractor. Money was following in- so much so that you lost reasons to spend it, letting the stacks build under your floorboards and in your jacket pockets before you were floating between bodies, drugs, and the bottom of empty bottles with glasses smashed against dust on the bartop.

You were far gone, everyone at headquarters joked that you had taken form to a rockstar as you flipped them the bird. Sitting at your desk as you choked down a coffee and pain medication, your head still pounding in rhythm to last night's DJ as you swirled around your desk chair, looking up at the ceiling as if you were dancing.

Laswell had called you endlessly, begging for you to reply after every night so she knew you made it home alright, that not another one of her close friends was gone in this line of work. You Stopped replying, 141 never showed up for their last mission, and when you looked at yourself in the mirror- you were as good as dead. Severe bags under your eyes, sex hair was your new hairstyle as lipstick stained every shirt you wore- matching the deep reds of your suits. You were fighting to keep yourself alive, is this what Whitby would want? You chuckle darkly to yourself, calling out to the new secretary that you would be taking your break at the storefront as you lit a cigarette, tapping the embers to the street as your ankle burned in memory.

You leaned against the bright building, blowing the smoke to meet the clouds above as you savoured the bitter taste in your lungs. Your throat burned for more drink, your eyes dry but when a shadow overtook the sun, you opened your eyes- surprised to find them closed and saw a masked-face man tilting his head down at you. “Hello Simon, come to tell me off?” you press, throwing your cigarette to the ground and stopping it down with your boot.

“No. But I am here for our last mission.”

You humm out, trying to rack your tired mind as to when you have received a new debrief. “Fill me in them,” you state, feeling around your suit for another distraction before a gloved hand grips your wrist gently, pulling it out of your suit jacket and down to your side. They do not let go, just looking over your shoulder before leading you back inside the building where Laswell waits, leaning against the counter as she speaks to Samantha. Gaz views the various ties in the display cabinet as Johnny forces himself not to touch the various new products in the windowsill. John observes everyone from the front door and you can’t help the heartache that bellows in your stomach to the scene before you- so reminiscent of your first meeting together.

Laswell runs over, pulling you into a hug as her nose scrunches up at the bruises against your throat and the cigarette breath you breathe. You pat her back stiffly before she pulls away, wiping away a few tears as you lean against the stair railing that leads to the supplies room upstairs. Simon stands still behind you, giving Samantha a nod as she turns back around the counter and disappears into the back.

John walks slowly up to you, replacing Kate as he frowns at the sight of you. You wince at his features scrutinizing your every decision that leads to now before looking down at your boots, unable to meet him in the eyes any longer to the guilt that consumes your being. “I would say it's good to see you again, but I was worried you would be something like this when we got called back-”

“Thanks John, just what I wanted to hear…” you interrupt sarcastically, moving around the man to hug Gaz and Soap in greeting before sitting on top of the counter- right beside the till. Laswell leans against the wood beside you, looking through the various emails on her phone as you start to tap your nails against the treated wood.

“... I fought, long and hard I hope you all know. But now… now I think- I don't actually think,” you laugh to yourself as Gaz winces, looking towards his Captain who had yet to drop his attention from you. John walks up to you once more, holding up your chin so that your eyes meet. You cast him a cheesy fake smile as he hums out, “I’m sorry…”

“What for?” you raise a brow, not clicking in his somber tone as Laswell stares sadly into the side of your head- thinking that you are unknowing.

“For not showing you what to fight for. It's one thing to say something, another to not follow through,” John finishes speaking, dropping his touch as you hold your head up more clearly as you look around the room. “Not your fault, everyone!” you announce, clapping your hands together as you move to stand and walk around the counter, trying to move back to headquarters- brushing off the words. “Sorry for making you all come back here, I’m still here, no need for worry or anything…”

“But that's just the thing,” Soap comments as you snap your head back to face him. “We are staying here for our next mission.”

“Then what is this fucking mission?” you stress back out, pinching the bridge of your nose as the nicotine has started to wear off.

“You,” Gaz states simply, throwing a tie your way with a smile.

“Now it's time to get to work,” Laswell announces, shoving you through the door as you begin to protest and that's how you found yourself here, at this funeral with a bunch of strangers unknowing to his actual death and task force 141.

Your attention snaps back to the will presenter at the sound of your name, “And to my dearest-Dee, thank you for teaching me that the present is enough of a gift that you need not worry about the past or future. I love you darling, and maybe one day we will dance together again but for now- it's time you took some lessons and find a new partner, I will be waiting to see all your new moves and maybe then you will finally tell me your first name.”

You burst out laughing, it echoes throughout the hall, cutting through every tear, sob, and face filled with sorrows. Your shoulders bend up and down rapidly as you clench at your stomach, folding yourself in half as you almost fall off your chair. Soap was not there to place a hand to your shoulder to halt any further movements. You look up to the ceiling, watching as the sun casts through the skylights above as you blink away your tears, trying to even out your breathing while fanning your cheeks with your hands as the reading presumes once more and you make your way outside.

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt @no-lessthan3 @cod-z

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thatone-brightstar · 7 months

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Amy's kinktober alphabet blurbs w/ special guest Carmy Berzatto! (4/6)

a/n: tbh i have so much repressed sexual tension and 'P' made me sweat a lil just thinking about it. Don't forget to show up in the comments and lmk your favorite! PS. lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Minors DNI, p in v unprotected sex, creampie, choking, semi public, oral sex (both f and m recieving), edging, knifeplay, I'll add more as they come up.

M is for: Melodious.

At first, you couldn’t get a groan out of him to save your life. Nothing to accompany the many moans and squeals that he’d fuck out of you. Then once- on accident- an almost invisible whine knocked you off your concentration, knees giving up and falling to the sheets beside his hips.

‘S-sorry-’ He mumbled against your naked shoulder, lips dragging over the skin and rough hands grasping at your hips.

‘Do it again.’ You gently ordered and dropped your hips over his cock. ‘I like the sound.’

‘Really?’ His question was genuine, then another roll of your hips caused him to moan again.

You reached up to kiss him and when you let go, crystal clear blue washed over your sweaty features.

‘I like to know I’m doin’ a good job...’ You answered with a smile. ‘Am I doing a good job?’

N is for: Newbies.

You were each other’s first time. You thought it pathetic at first- to be someone in their late twenties who had never had sex before- but no one ever seemed quite right. Then he came along, all shaggy hair and shy compliments that felt more like statements through his monotone voice. It took a while to break the ice but when it finally happened, you finally understood what all the rage was about.

Even the inexperienced kisses and the slightest grace of clumsy fingertips could pull a shaky breath from you.

‘A-am i doin’ it right?’ He asked, eyes set on the way your cunt swallows his fingers whole.

‘yeah- shit- you’re doin’ real good, bear.’ The pet name curled with a moan and traveled straight to the swollen cock in his hand, speeding up his movements.

O is for: Observant.

Carmen knew you, even better than you knew yourself, though you hated to admit it. He knew each birthmark and dimple, each moan, gasp and that delicious groan you let escape when your spine curved outwards. He praised himself for his observant qualities, knowing they’d come in handy in more places than just the kitchen.

He watched your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, brow creasing harder with every pound of his hips against yours. He kept his sanity long enough to snake his hand between your parted legs and rub circles over your slick clit. Then he watched through hooded eyes how the tint in your neck spread to your cheeks and you came undone under him.

P is for: Pocket knife.

You were completely consumed by the sensation of Carmy’s lips sucking on the side of your neck with intensity. The cold blade of his pocket knife sat on the other side over your frail skin, perfectly controlled by Carmy’s unwavering pulse. The light caught on to its glistening tip with each of his strokes and the small sting only pushed you closer to the edge.

He took his lips off your neck and pressed them to your bumbling ones, shushing you in the process.

His free hand wrapped around your throat. ‘I-don’t want ‘em to know how I gotcha in here.’ He whispered and sped up his snaps, sending your head back against the office door.

_________________

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13, @feyhunter78

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fortheloveofwonderland · 8 months

Text

No Distance Left to Run | Part 4 | S.R

Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary - As you prepare to return to the BAU you find yourself hot water and this time Spencer might not be able to save you. As the BAU work to find you, your secrets come to light.

A/N - some canon elements of Date Night used but I mostly rewrote it.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.15 Truth or Dare and for 15.06 Date Night, abusive relationship, kidnapping, guns, hostage situations, Cat Adams, panic attacks, tears, swearing.

WC - 9.1k

Part 4 - Dominoes

Present Day

After fifteen days off work, you were more than ready to get back to the BAU tomorrow.

You loved the extra time you got to spend with your children but it was anything but a relaxing vacation time.

Between meeting with lawyers in regards to your marriage and your husband who remained in jail pending trial, and trying to be super mom, you were more drained than you would be from a normal case load.

It had been nearly three weeks since Jared’s arrest and two weeks since the hostage situation in which you’d confessed your love for your best friend. Your best friend who hadn’t once tried to contact you since Rossi’s wedding.

You’d told him you needed time apart but Spencer was stubborn and you were sure he would try to call, maybe even show up at the house, but he never did.

You’d missed him, missed how things used to be. For the past seven months since Varnville things hadn’t been the same between you.

They’d just started to get better, the iciness starting to thaw when you’d made your confession. Time had begun to heal the wounds you caused Spencer by falling into bed with him and you’d been amicable again, friendly even.

Right before you’d been called out to LA where two murders had been committed in two days with similar MO’s, the case which would lead to you being held hostage, you’d been having a game of poker as a team.

“You guys, you should have seen Reid. He shot a one hundred.” Luke spoke as he and Spencer entered the round table room. The rest of you gasped and made appreciative sounds. “Yeah, he qualified to shoot a possum.”

“That’s like a perfect score. What, like, two hundred agents have made the wall of glory?” Matt sounded rightfully impressed.

“He hit everything, I mean at one point I thought he must have two guns.” Luke shook his head as he slid into one of the vacant chairs.

“Maybe I did.” Spencer smiled knowingly, sitting in the space opposite you.

You looked at him with curiosity and he simply smiled at you.

You’d gone two days without a case which was a nice reprieve but it left you all a little on edge. You’d worked your way through a backlog of reports until Garcia suggested a round of poker with jelly beans for chips.

Rossi was the only one not in attendance as he was helping Krystall with last minute wedding preparations.

The game began, slowly one by one the team members folded, finally leaving only you, Spencer and Luke still in.

You glanced at your cards before placing them back face down on the table. You cupped your pile of jelly beans you’d procured and pushed them all to the centre of the table, looking Spencer dead in the eye.

“Do you think the lady is bluffing?” Luke looked between the two of you.

“I know the lady is bluffing because she has a tell.” He gave you that knowing smile once more.

“No I don’t.” You shook your head but Spencer continued to smile and pushed his own pile of candy towards the centre.

“I’m gonna go all in.” He sat back in his chair.

“Oh I like it.” Luke smirked. “Live by the sword, die by the sword. I call.”

“Alright, lets see ‘em.” Tara encouraged.

Luke turned his card over and placed them on the table top.

“Three of a kind, king high.”

“Perfectly respectable but not getting it done.” Tara shook her head.

Spencer opened his hand, placing his cards down with a smug smile gracing his lips.

“Pair of kings, pair of sevens. Oh I’m sorry, uh, three sevens.” His smile grew.

“Oh, a full boat from the sassy Doctor Reid.” Tara chuckled.

Spencer focused on you, his smile in full bloom. You felt your own tugging at your lips as you placed your own cards down for them to see.

A four, five, six, seven and eight of spades. Spencer's face fell, his smile vanishing in an instant.

“A straight flush, that has to hurt.” Tara chuckled.

“I think Doctor Reid is speechless.” Matt laughed too.

You shrugged, reaching out to collect your winnings.

“Guess I’m a better liar than you thought.”

Spencer had continued to stare at you in disbelief until Emily announced you had a case which was taking you to LA. At that moment, high from your win, you never could have foreseen where that case would lead.

Unpredictability was unfortunately a part of life. Thirteen years ago you never would have anticipated the nice man you met in a bar on your birthday would go on to abuse you.

Fifteen years ago when you’d first been introduced to the dorky Doctor Spencer Reid, you had no way to know you would still harbour feelings for him all these years later.

“Yo, pretty boy?”

“Huh?”

“Let’s not make the new girl feel uncomfortable on her very first day.”

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t…”

“Don’t mind him, he doesn’t get out much.”

“Everyone this is our new agent Y/N Y/L/N, please can you all make her feel welcome. Not too welcome though, ok, Reid?”

“Got it.”

He’d changed so much since then, it was only really now you realised that. When you saw someone every day it was hard to notice those little changes they went through until you took a step back and saw how big those changes really were.

You’d both gone from being in your early twenties, innocent and green to now somehow circling forty, much less naive than you had been back then. A whole lifetime had passed in those years. You’d gotten married, had two children and you and Spencer had both suffered your share of trauma.

You and Spencer were long overdue for a painful conversation. It would make or break your relationship, it would dictate where the two of your futures were headed and if they were entwined with one another's.

It was only a matter of time before he would ask you again, and you had to decide if you were willing to be honest with him or lie to him.

“Y/N?” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Truth or dare?”

You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them and looking at him again.

“Truth.” You croaked.

“Did you mean it?”

Your eyes flit down to your bracelet, eyeing the inscription for a moment or two before you looked back at Spencer. There was a simple answer and a complicated one, neither of which you wanted to get into right now.

“Spencer I-”

What had you planned on saying before Adie interrupted you? You weren’t even sure of that yourself. Because you had meant it, but being in love with Spencer Reid was far too complicated for words.

You wanted to keep those thoughts at bay, at least for one more day. You had one last day off work before you had to see Spencer again and you needed to not burden yourself with any unnecessary stress.

You dropped the kids at school before running some errands. You did the grocery shopping for the week, knowing it was likely you would be pulled in on a case once you went back and wouldn’t have time to do it otherwise.

You’d arranged for your cousin Olivia to sit the kids while you worked, after explaining to her why Jared suddenly wasn’t around. She was more than happy to stay at the house with your children while you were off fighting crime.

You picked up extra ice cream and a bottle of nice wine for Olivia as a thank you, dropped off your dry cleaning and drove back home where you planned to clean the house until it was time to pick your kids up from school.

You parked on the drive and exited the car, going over to the house and opening the door before getting the bags out of the trunk so you didn’t have to try and wrestle it open with your hands full.

Heading back to your SUV, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. You slowed your steps, honing your senses onto your surroundings. Something felt off, but you didn’t know why. But your instincts were telling you something was amiss.

Your hand instinctively went to your firearm but of course it wasn’t there, it was tucked away in the safe in the house.

You cautiously continued back to the car, eyes rapidly searching the street, your front yard and the front yards of your neighbours houses. You kept your footsteps soft and quiet so you could pick up on any little noise.

You reached the SUV and popped the trunk, feeling your nerves start to fade a little. You were paranoid, that’s all it was. You tried to shake it off but you couldn’t quite let it go, the hairs on your neck refusing to go down.

You collected up the paper bags in your arms, cradling them on one hip so you could close the trunk with the other. You turned and tried to rebalance the bags but found yourself looking down the barrel of a revolver.

You fumbled with the bags and dropped them all on the ground, partially conscious of hearing the wine bottle smash as it hit the concrete. You swallowed, trying to focus yourself on the long dark hair of the woman pointing the gun at you.

“What do you want?” You croaked. “I have money, I have connections. I’m an FBI Agent, you don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are.” The woman chuckled. “Jared says hello.”

You whimpered, taking a step back to your car but then you were taking a blow to the head from the muzzle of the gun and soon the world went dark.

Life was certainly unpredictable.

***

When Penelope Garcia initially received the call from a friendly woman named Linda at the Hyde-Addison Elementary School, she was confused to say the least. Her confusion turned into panic when Linda informed her that two students, Adleine and Finley Haines had not been collected from school.

Linda, the school’s administrator had tried calling their mother several times when she didn’t come to pick up her kids but kept getting her voicemail. The school had been informed that Jared Haines was not reachable at present.

The school required pre-approval for anyone to collect kids from the school who weren’t the children’s legal carers. As godparents to Adie and Fin, Penelope and Spencer along with your cousin Olivia were the only people pre-approved.

Garcia had been the first person called and she’d been sitting at her desk in her bat cave when she’d received the call. The rest of the team were in the bullpen working on paperwork as they didn’t have an active case.

Before Penelope allowed herself to spiral into fear, she called Olivia and asked if she could pick the kids up from school, trying not to say too much to alarm the young girl. Penelope needed to be at the BAU, because she knew if you hadn’t picked up the kids, there was a sinister reason for it.

She tried to remain calm while she headed through to the bullpen, head down and focused solely on Emily Prentiss’ office. She knocked on the door but didn’t wait for an answer before she tottered inside.

“We’ve got a case?” Emily looked up from her paperwork.

“Uh, yes and no.” Garcia closed the door behind her. “I just had an interesting call from Hyde-Addison.”

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed as she turned that name over in her head a few times.

“Adie and Fin’s school?”

“Yes.”

Emily’s back straightened in her chair, knowing whatever Garcia was going to say wouldn’t be good.

“Should I be worried?” The raven haired Unit Chief’s heart was already pounding.

“Maybe,” Garcia nodded. “Y/N wasn’t there to collect the kids today. She would never forget to pick the kids up. I’ve called Liv, she’s going to get them. But I think something has happened to Y/N.”

“Why didn’t they call Jared?” Emily narrowed her eyes on the blonde.

“I…uh, it's complicated?”

“Has something happened between them? She didn’t really give me much detail of why she needed time off.”

“I think that’s going to be a story I can only tell once.”

Emily was out of her seat and heading to the door before Penelope even finished her sentence. She swung the door open so forcefully it caused all the agents in the bullpen to look up at her.

Garcia pushed open Rossi’s door, motioning him out. The old man got up from his desk and padded outside.

“What’s going on?” He spoke, looking between Emily and Garcia.

“A bad one?” JJ spoke up from her desk.

Emily let out a shaky breath, ready to deliver the news to her waiting team and wishing things like this didn’t always fall on her shoulders.

“Garcia received a call just now from Adeline and Finley’s school when Y/N failed to show up to collect them.” Emily spoke, trying to keep her voice measured.

Spencer immediately shot out of his chair, glaring at Emily.

“What?” His face was drained of colour. “Why?”

“We don’t know, that’s what we need to find out.” Emily nodded sternly.

“Why did they call you?” Luke asked, directing his question to Garcia. “Where’s their dad?”

Penelope looked at Spencer, her expression pleading him to help her. She didn’t want to have to relay this story for you, not that Spencer did either. He huffed out a breath and slowly headed up the stairs to join Garcia, Emily and Rossi while they all looked at him in slight confusion.

“A few weeks ago Penelope discovered that Jared Haines had been arrested.” Spencer began, his voice cracking as he spoke. “For a domestic disturbance turned attempted murder.”

The rest of the team gasped at his words, exchanging looks and silently asking each other if anyone knew. Penelope was on her phone, tapping at the keys.

“He was abusing her?” Emily looked at Spencer, her expression one of sorrow.

“For a long time.” He nodded sadly. “I knew he was hurting her, I tried to help her but she refused me every time. Adeline called the cops when Jared got hold of Y/N’s gun. He shot the wall, not Y/N. When DC Metro showed up, he had his hand around her throat.”

“Jeez,” Rossi shook his head. “That poor girl.”

“I had no idea.” JJ pouted, her eyes filling with tears.

“You think this has something to do with him?” Luke asked, his nostrils flared in anger.

“He’s still in jail, I just checked.” Garcia waved her phone.

“What is this about then?” Tara frowned. “Do we really think something has happened to her?”

“She would never leave the kids like that. No way.” Spencer shook his head.

“This might not be a case, there may be a reasonable explanation.” Emily didn’t look as though she believed that herself.

“Can I go and check on her?” Spencer begged.

“Ok.” Emily nodded. “You have your car?”

“No,” he raked his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll take you kid,” Rossi nodded at him.

“I’ll try and ping her cell phone.” Garcia hurriedly started back towards the stairs, Rossi and Spencer in tow.

“Just in case something has happened, tell Y/N’s cousin to keep the kids away from her house.” Emily instructed.

“Aye aye boss.” Penelope spoke as she carried on walking.

Spencer was soon over taking her, walking as fast as he could towards the elevators while Rossi struggled to keep up.

He was blinded by his emotions and he knew it. And he also knew if anything had happened to you he would never be the same.

***

“Why are you doing this?” You asked once you finally came to, tied to a chair in a nondescript room.

The dark haired woman sat on an old desk, twirling her revolver in her hand.

“I already told you, for your husband.” She clucked.

“I don’t buy it.” You shook your hazy head. “He’s too controlling to let someone else do his dirty work.”

“But he’s in prison, so he can’t do his own dirty work.”

“Fine, let’s pretend I believe you. How do you know my husband?” You sighed.

“We were lovers.” She smirked dangerously at you but you simply rolled your eyes.

“Sweetheart, we both know that’s not true. My husband is forty two years old, you can’t be more than late twenties. We’ve been together for thirteen years, so if you’re telling me you were together before I met him, that would have made you, at most, sixteen years old. I highly doubt that he would have dated a sixteen year old when he was almost thirty.” You argued.

“Who said it was before you met him?”

“So you’re proposing that my husband cheated on me with you?” You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Ok, let’s say that happened. Why would you be willing to do his dirty work for him? What is he offering you in return for killing me? Let me guess, with me dead he has no one to testify against him and he goes free? And then what? The two of you run off into the sunset together with two kids?”

You saw something flicker in her eyes.

“Something like that.” She shrugged.

You knew what you’d seen. She hadn’t given your kids a second thought. You decided to take a leaf from Spencer’s book. When he’d faced off with Cat Adams after prison he’d tricked her by giving the wrong name of Morgan’s son, proving she didn’t know as much about him as she thought.

“You think you’re equipped to look after Sammy and Kylie?” You scoffed.

“I can be surprisingly maternal.” She smirked at you.

That cleared that up. This was most certainly not about Jared. If she was really his lover or whatever she claimed to be, surely she would know about his kids and this woman certainly did not.

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Where are my kids now?” You asked.

“How should I know? I’m not interested in them, I’m interested in you.” The woman pushed herself up from the desk suddenly and you held your breath as she came closer to you. It was then you noticed the camera set up on a table top tripod, pointing your way.

She came behind you and you flinched when she wrapped her arm around your neck, gun dangling by your chest.

“Say cheese,” the woman chirruped, seconds before a camera flash went off.

***

Upon arrival at 184 Calvert Street it was immediately clear there had been a struggle.

Several bags of groceries were on the drive, a smashed bottle of wine, cracked eggs and a partially split box of cereal. Your car was unlocked and your front door was wide open.

Spencer drew his weapon, as did Rossi, as they headed towards the house. Without a word, Spencer took the ground floor and Rossi the first. A few minutes later Rossi called out, “clear.”

“Clear here too.” Spencer holstered his weapon.

Nothing in the house appeared to be out of place, it looked the same as it usually did. He moved some books aside on the bookshelf to reveal the safe hidden behind. He heard Rossi’s footsteps on the stairs as he input the code.

He popped the safe door and reached inside, locating your gun with ease. He turned and held it up to Rossi who was looking at him with a frown.

“You know her combination?” The older man asked.

“It’s Adie’s birthday.” Spencer shrugged. “Makes sense she wouldn’t have had her gun, she wasn’t working.”

He put the firearm back in the safe as the two of them headed back outside.

“It looks like she opened the door before getting the groceries. She had a lot to carry and I guess she figured it was easier to open the door first.” Rossi mused.

“She gets the door open, heads back to the car and grabs the bags, but someone waits until after she’s got them and closes the trunk to strike.” Spencer added. “There’s no other signs of a struggle or a fight. She’s startled and drops the bags and then what?”

“First blush? If it were me, a gun in my face would startle me enough to drop my bags.” Rossi speculated.

Spencer roughly rubbed his palm across his jaw, shaking his head.

“This can’t be happening, Rossi. Not after everything she’s been through.”

“Kid, take a breath.” Rossi put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “What’s going on here?”

“Clearly someone has stalked her, learnt her patterns and-”

“Not what I mean.” Rossi cut him off.

“I can’t let anything else bad happen to her, Dave. Not after I sat by for years and did nothing while her jerk husband beat her.” Spencer spat.

“Reid, you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Yet I do.”

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this and we’re gonna find her.” Rossi looked determined. “And when we do, maybe the two of you will finally stop playing this exhausting little game and finally admit you’re crazy about each other.”

Rossi strolled away towards his car and Spencer watched him go. He couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left his lips at the old man’s words.

If only you knew, Rossi. If only you knew.

***

Two Weeks Ago

“Garcia, any luck with Judge Hamilton?” Spencer leant forward in the chair, speaking into the car’s microphone while you drove.

Judge Melissa Hamilton was one of the people who the team suspected might be their unsub, Casey Allen Pinkner’s next target. But so far Garcia hadn’t been able to get hold of her.

“No, we’ve reached everyone else involved she won’t pick up. I’ve pinged her phone, you guys are close.” Garcia informed you both.

“She’s gotta be his end game, he knows we’re onto him and time is limited.” You huffed, continuing down the street and keeping your eyes peeled for Melissa Hamilton’s car.

“During sentencing she wanted to throw the book at him, she said that he needed to take responsibility for his actions.” Spencer spoke.

“That would have incensed him.” You sighed.

“Oh! she just pulled over.” Garcia’s voice came through the speakers again.

You and Spencer both glanced around the busy LA street. Up ahead Spencer noticed a car stopped, frowning he leant further forward.

“That’s her, that’s Judge Hamilton. Turn around.” He quickly told you.

He held on tight while you made a sharp and somewhat precarious U-turn in the middle of a busy intersection. As you closed in on the vehicle it started moving again.

You were hot on its tail, Spencer keeping a close eye on the sedan weaving in and out of traffic. Suddenly a tanker pulled out of a side road and Hamilton’s car came to an abrupt stop before they collided.

You pulled in behind it as the doors were opening on the other vehicle. Casey Allen Pinkner slid out of the back seat and instantly fired his gun in Spencer’s direction. Spencer was quick to duck behind the open door and narrowly avoided the bullet that hit the side of the SUV.

You drew your own weapon but didn’t return fire given the amount of people on the street. Instead the two of you hurried after where he ran off with Judge Hamilton in tow. He’d run inside a jewellery store and you both followed him in, weapons pointed in his direction.

“Everybody out!” Spencer yelled as he entered, waving the customers towards the door.

Pinkner aimed his gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger, making the store clerk who he held by the shoulder scream.

“Go, get out.” You motioned to the other customers before turning to Pinkner. “FBI!”

“Put them down.” Pinkner growled. “On the ground.”

You and Spencer exchanged a look, lowering your gun just a little.

“It’s ok,” Spencer whispered, lowering his also and tossing it on the floor before you followed suit.

Pinkner made the clerk close the shutters while he had Hamilton force you and Spencer to the floor and tape your wrists behind your back. She was shaking as she taped up Spencer’s arms.

“Don’t worry, it's going to be ok.” He whispered to her.

What ensued was the two of you sitting back and witnessing Pinkner try and force Hamiliton to play his sick game of truth or dare whilst threatening if she didn’t play, he would kill her daughter.

His dare for Hamilton entailed her shooting Spencer. But to his credit, Spencer didn’t even flinch with the gun pointing at him.

“Casey…” You spoke up, sensing the judge’s hesitancy whilst trying to push yourself to your feet.. “Uh, if Melissa won’t play, I will. Truth or dare? That’s your game right? I’ll play.”

“Casey, I know what it's like, to be wrongly accused, sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit.” Spencer spoke now, obviously trying to buy you all some time.

“Yeah right, you went to jail?” Pinkner scoffed but Spencer simply nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to see that pretty boy.”

Meanwhile behind his back Spencer had located a shard of glass from a broken display. He had it between his fingers as he attempted to cut through his tape. It was tricky at this angle and could feel the glass cutting into his palm but he powered through.

“Ok, agent…” Casey turned to you with the gun, trailing off when he realised he didn’t know your name.

“Y/L/N.”

“Agent Y/L/N, truth or dare?” He spat.

“Truth.” You sucked in a breath.

“If I think you’re lying, or stretching the truth in the slightest, I’ll kill him.” He turned the gun on Spencer briefly before pointing it back at you. “You ever shoot anybody before?”

“Yes I have.” You nodded.

“You enjoy it?” Pinkner smirked at you.

“No.”

“LIAR!” He yelled, turning the gun back to Spencer and pulling the trigger.

You screamed at the sound, your heart instantly pounding. But soon enough you realised the bullet hadn’t hit him, not quite.

“No, no I’m not lying!” You were quick to say, tears now flooding your vision. “The people I shot, I had no choice. But I did not enjoy it, I didn’t. You asked, and I told the truth ok? So, uh, now it's my turn? That’s how this game’s played. We take turns. Truth or dare?”

You tried to keep your tears at bay but if he shot at Spencer like that again they would certainly fall. You glanced at him, he looked a little shell shocked from the ordeal, no doubt he’d heard the bullet whirring past his head. But at least he was unscathed.

“Truth.” Casey replied and you looked back at him.

“What’s it going to take for all of us to walk out of here alive? For this to end peacefully?” You pleaded with him.

“I ain’t going back to prison. My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” You clenched your jaw.

In your peripheral vision you could see Spencer moving ever so slightly. Hopefully you were buying you both enough time for him to come up with a way out of here.

“I want you to say something you’re afraid to say. That you’d never tell anybody and you better make it good because if it's not it's gonna be the last thing you ever say. What’s it gonna be?” Pinkner spat, proffering the gun closer to you.

“There are only four people I trust in this world.” You swallowed.

“Boring.” Pinkner turned and quickly fired a bullet into Judge Hamilton's leg. She screamed and fell to the floor. “Next.”

Your heart was thumping against your chest. You knew you had to say something good and this was certainly something you didn’t want to say.

“My, uh…my husband…he uh…he hits me. He’s abusive.” You choked as tears started streaming down your face.

“Wrong. Come on, you can do better than that.” Pinkner scoffed.

“Casey,” Spencer spoke now, the pain in his voice evident.

He’d know about what Jared did to you but you’d never said it out loud in quite as many words. He hated the way he felt so powerless against what your husband had done to you.

“Shut up!” Casey screamed at him, grabbing you by the shoulder and forcing you back to the floor.

“Ok, ok.” You cried.

“Last chance. Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner here. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me or I kill him.” He turned the gun back on Spencer.

You looked at your best friend through watery eyes. There was only one thing left to say. A secret you never thought you’d say out loud, especially to Spencer.

But it would certainly be enough to get Casey’s attention and with any luck it would save your lives.

“Come on!” Casey screamed.

You kept your eyes on Spencer, tears getting heavier. His brow furrowed at you, sensing the weight of what you were about to say.

“Spence, uh…” you swallowed. “I have always loved you. I was too scared to say it before... and now things are just really too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.”

The look that washed over him could only be described as pure heart break as the world seemed to freeze around you. He’d wanted to hear those words for so many years but not here, not like this.

For five seconds the two of you stared at each other, five gut wrenching, life altering seconds. This was going to change everything, life would never be the same again.

***

Present Day

Upon receiving the email from the anonymous server, things started to make a little more sense.

It didn’t make the situation any less terrifying, but it did at least point the team in the right direction.

Your phone had been found in a dumpster a few blocks from your house and hadn’t rendered anything useful. It was the email that had landed in Garcia’s inbox a few minutes after Spencer and Rossi returned from your home which was interesting.

It was a photograph of you with your abductor's arm around your shoulder. The woman next to you wasn’t trying to obscure her face telling the team she wasn’t scared of being identified. You had dried blood on the side of your face but other than that you looked to be unscathed.

But the most alarming part was the demand in the email.

Release Catherine Adams in twenty four hours.

And that was how Spencer found himself behind the glass in the little room next to the interrogation room in which Cat Adams currently occupied.

“You sure you can do this?” JJ was at his side, much like she had been last time he’d had to face off with his nemesis.

“I don’t have a choice, Jennifer.” He wouldn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on Cat in her bright orange jumpsuit. “She’s made it personal. Again. If I don’t go in there she’s going to have Y/N killed.”

“I’ll be right here.” JJ tried to calm him.

“I don’t need you to wait for me. This is something I need to do alone. Go and help the team.” He didn’t look at her as he headed for the door and violently swung it open.

He slammed it behind him, glaring manically at Cat.

She was relaxed back in the chair, arms folded across her chest, jumpsuit sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her dark hair was stringy and lifeless, tied back off of her face.

Those infectious eyes he remembered having so much spark when they played their little game in the restaurant, even after his release from prison with his hand around her throat, were dull like someone had switched a light off.

He’d seen that look mirrored on his own eyes when he was incarcerated. Day by day prison stripped him of life, and his eyes had slowly lost their sparkle.

She’d been inside much longer than him, he wasn’t exactly surprised to see the effects she wore. But even when she looked at him they remained dark and cold.

He could see the resignation. She’d given up. It happened in prison, when you stopped believing there was a way out. He’d reached that point too, he’d gotten himself into solitary for his own protection, but he’d been so sure he’d die there.

She stared at him, waiting for him to speak. If he didn’t know any better he would have been sure she didn’t have anything to do with this. She didn’t seem as though she had the energy for these kinds of games anymore.

“Where is she?” He spat at her, not wanting to waste any time.

“Because I’m going to make it that easy on you?” Cat scoffed, lifeless eyes rolling in her head.

“The demand of releasing you from prison is never going to happen, so why don’t we save ourselves both some time and tell me what this is really about.” He moved closer to the metal table but didn’t sit down.

“You haven’t heard,” her lips turned up at the corner.

“Heard?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I stopped fighting. The state versus Catherine Adams.” She unfolded her arms, exhaled heavily.

“You’ve grown a conscience? Unlikely.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m bored.” She huffed. “Death has got to be more interesting.”

“Why am I here, Cat? And where is Y/N?” He tried to keep his voice levelled but he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. “I’m not playing your games this time, tell me where she is.”

“You know that’s not how this works, Spencie.” She offered him a sweet smile. Her eyes were still void of emotion.

“Tell me what you want.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“My final request,” she sat back in her chair leisurely. “Before I’m put to death. I want to go on a date. With you.”

Spencer felt his stomach turn violently. Of course there was always something. But she did really think she would get her own way, be released from prison so he could take her out?

He supposed having an FBI Agent kidnapped was one way to ensure she got what she wanted.

He unfolded his arms before kneeling in front of her. He moved close to her ear.

“The only date I will be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.” He spat before pushing himself back up.

“I hear you have a thing for damaged women, I thought I was just your type.” She smirked wildly at him.

His teeth ground together furiously, but he tried not to let her see he was coming unravelled. He couldn’t give anything away. She was the master of reading people, him specifically. In another life she would have made a great profiler.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He sucked in a breath, desperate not to let her see she’d hit a nerve.

Cat chuckled, an evil and maniacal sound that made Spencer’s stomach lurch.

“After all this time? Always.” She quoted with a wide smile on her face.

Spencer’s nostrils flared and he felt his heart leap into his throat.

How did she know about that? How could she possibly know?

The only conceivable way would be from your bracelet. The bracelet you’d handed him back at Rossi’s wedding which he’d come to discover when he got home he no longer had in his possession.

He’d assumed it had fallen out of his pocket, even called the venue the next day but as of yet no one had found it. Even if he’d lost it, it was out of the question that she could have gotten her hands on it.

“Did you hear me?” Cat spoke again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“You’re going to take me on a date or I will have her killed.” She spoke in a sickly sweet tone that made Spencer want to throw up. “I want to look pretty! I wanna have fun! And I won’t even get physical. Unless you want me to.”

He felt dizzy out of nowhere, his vision starting to blur. The walls of the interrogation room seemed like they were getting closer. He suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breath, like a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest.

I’m having a panic attack.

Before he could let Cat see his devolution, he threw open the door and fled the small room. He crossed the corridor in two strides, letting himself into a disused office.

He fought to loosen his tie which felt like it was strangling him. He managed to get it over his head and tossed it aside while trying to focus on his breathing.

A large scream ripped through him, involuntarily erupting from his throat and he reached out and swiped a pile of books and papers off the desk in his rage.

He collapsed to the floor soon after that, hot tears streaming down his face. He sobbed loudly, not caring if anyone was to hear him. He didn’t even care if Cat heard him, even though that was unlikely through the reinforced glass.

He’d had so many emotions pent up for so many years and it was finally all coming to surface. Cat having you kidnapped was the straw that broke the camel's back. The thin piece of thread holding him together all these years snapped.

You’d told him you loved him and he hadn’t said it back. What if he never got to say it back? You were finally free of the clutches of your abusive husband but now you might die because of Cat’s vendetta against him.

He’d allow himself this moment. One moment in which he crumbled. Then he would push it all down and focus everything he had on finding you.

And if he didn’t find you? That didn’t bear thinking about it.

***

Hours ticked by. Slow, painful hours. There was something familiar about this room but you couldn’t quite place it, couldn’t quite see the bigger picture.

The room was small, barely larger than your en-suite bathroom at home. The walls were painted white, chipped and peeling at the corners.

The floor was damp and dusty, clearly having gone unused for years. The table in the corner which your kidnapped sat on was more like a counter than an actual table.

Behind the counter was a set of thick red velvet curtains which were moth eared and mouldy. You swore you could see a sliver of light behind the thick fabric but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

A window maybe?

There was one door, to the left of the counter but it didn’t offer any clues.

Debris was littered on the floor, torn sheets of paper for which you couldn’t quite piece together to work out what was on them. Small brown beads of something scattered between the paper but you couldn’t ascertain what they were.

You probably had a concussion. If the blow to the head hadn’t done it you were sure the fall to the ground after you’d been rendered unconscious had. Your brain was foggy, you knew you were missing something right in front of you but you couldn’t work out what.

The woman didn’t speak much, she mostly sat in silence on her cell phone. None of this made sense. Surely if she’d kidnapped you she wanted something from you? But she was yet to make any demands.

By now you were sure the team must be looking for you. When you failed to pick up the kids from school either Liv, Penelope or Spencer would have been called. By now they must realise something had happened to you.

The profiler in you couldn’t stop trying to run through it all in your head despite how much it hurt to do so.

If this was somehow about Jared, even though you doubted that, where would their paths have crossed? Jared liked to drink, he frequented a lot of bars in the district. She could have been a bartender that he spilled his life to over one too many beers.

But if that were true wouldn’t she know your kids names?

She could have gotten hold of your FBI file. It would tell her your husband's name and the fact you had two kids but not their names. But that would open up the very real and very terrifying idea she was working for someone on the inside.

She could have simply stalked you. If she’d been following you she would know about your husband, your kids, but not necessarily their names.

But then it just came back to the why. Why was she doing this? Who had she taken that photo for? What did she want from you?

You swallowed, your mouth was so dry and your throat was scratchy. You wiggled a little against your binds, this whole being held hostage thing was becoming too much of a regular occurance.

“Look, seeing as we’re going to be here a while, why don’t you tell me what this is about.” You barely recognised your own voice.

The woman’s eyes snapped away from her phone and she looked at you, regarding you curiously. She put down the device and pushed herself to her feet.

She had a slightly crazed smile on her lips as she approached you. There was something vaguely familiar about her, like you’d seen her somewhere before. Had you noticed her watching you? Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind did you recognise her?

“You need to see what he’s really like.” She told you, rummaging around in her pocket.

“Jared? I already know what he’s really like.” You scoffed, with a frown.

“Not Jared.” She chucked, fishing something out of her pocket and holding it up in front of your eyes.

Your poor and tired eyes took a moment to focus on the silver item dangling from her fingers. But when you did, you felt your whole world stop turning.

***

Spencer collected himself, pushed down his emotions and washed his face so the team wouldn’t know he’d been crying. When he walked into the round table room, all eyes were on him.

“How did it go, kid?” Rossi asked.

“About as well as you would expect.” He croaked.

“We’ve run the woman through facial recognition but so far we haven’t got anything.” Garcia told him sadly.

“I’ve seen her before.” Spencer focused on the photograph of you and your captor on the big screen. “I know I have, I just can’t figure out where.”

“It makes sense for her to use a partner again, but her victimology is off. Cat is a black widow, she targets abusive men who remind her of her father.” JJ spoke now.

“Could this be about Jared? Maybe she thinks in some kind of warped way, she’s saving Y/N?” Luke frowned as he spoke.

“She doesn’t need saving, he’s already in jail.” Emily shook her head.

“It’s not about Jared.” Spencer heaved a sigh. “I know exactly what this is about. This is about me.”

“Well yeah it’s always been about you. But with Cat there is always the presenting agenda and the hidden one. If she sticks to pattern this isn’t just about going on a date with Spence.” JJ shook her head.

So she was listening, at least to part of it.

“No, this is about me. Me and Y/N.” Spencer closed his eyes, his gut churning.

“What do you mean?” Tara asked with a hint of confusion in her tone.

He opened his eyes again and looked at her, trying to find some kind of solace in her soft brown eyes. This was the last thing he wanted to open about right now but it was inevitable he would have to.

If this was really about you and him, the team needed all the facts.

“A few weeks ago on the case in LA, the guy who liked to play truth or dare. When he held us hostage, Y/N agreed to play.” Spencer looked away from Tara, focused his vision on your image on the big screen.

“Ok?” Rossi frowned.

“What does that have to do with anything? I read your report.” Emily frowned too.

“I left something out of my report. Something she said that I didn’t think was pertinent. Not to the case anyway.”

“But you think it’s relevant now?” Matt gave him an equally confused look.

“I think somehow, and I don’t know how, Cat found out. Or she guessed, maybe, I’m not sure. But I think it’s why she took Y/N and how I know this about me and nothing else.” Spencer raked his fingers through his hair, a similar dizziness to that he’d experienced in the interrogation room washing over him.

He needed to get this out before he had another panic attack.

“Are you gonna tell us what she said or do we have to drag it out of you?” Luke was the one to ask.

“She said…” he closed his eyes, taking himself back to the jewellery store. “Spence, uh…I have always loved you. I was too scared to say it before... and now things are just really too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.”

He kept his eyes closed as he quoted you verbatim. He could feel all the eyes of his team members on him, watching, waiting.

When he opened his eyes he looked straight back at your photograph. There were a couple of exchanged glances but to their credit they didn’t seem all that surprised.

“But you said it yourself, you left that out of the report.” Emily’s brows furrowed.

“And the security camera from the store didn’t have audio. So even if she has someone on the inside working for her again, how would she know about that?” JJ looked at him quizzically.

“I have no idea.” He shrugged.

“Did you tell anyone about it? Anyone at all?” Tara asked now.

“No,” Spencer shook his head.

“Then how can this be about that?” Garcia questioned him.

“I don’t know!” He sounded exasperated. “But I’m sure that it is, I know that it is.”

“You’re sure you didn’t tell anyone?” JJ spoke calmly. “Even if it doesn’t seem relevant. Are you sure you didn’t-”

“Shit,” he cut her off. “I did tell someone.”

“Who?” Emily was quick to ask.

He looked from your photograph to his Unit Chief.

“Max. I told Max.”

“I’ve been in love with her for so long it’s just become a part of who I am.” He confessed. “I never let myself get close to anyone on the off chance she might have one day decided she felt the same. Just before I met you we…we, uh, slept together and she just up and left while I was asleep and never mentioned it again. It told me everything I needed to know, and so I made the decision to finally move on. I opened myself up to being with someone else and there you were.

I really like you Max, I think we could have had something really amazing. But I can’t lie to you and tell you that I’m not always going to have feelings for Y/N, because at this point I’m sure they will never go away. And that’s not fair on you.”

“No, it's not.” She shook her head.

“I got held hostage yesterday, Y/N and I did.” He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “The unsub liked to play truth or dare. He had a gun pointed at her and made her confess to a secret she would never admit outloud.”

Max narrowed her eyes on him, despite not being a profiler she could easily read between the lines.

“She told you she has feelings for you?”

“She did.” Spencer nodded. “I still don’t know if she meant it or not, or if she was just trying to shock the guy.”

“You think she could be a part of this?” Luke leaned forward on the table.

“No, no way.” Spencer shook his head frantically.

“How can you be so sure? You only dated a few months, did you really know her?” JJ sounded somewhat accusatory.

“I knew her.” He spat at his friend. “There is no way she is part of this.”

“Ok, ok kid calm down.” Rossi held his hands up. “If Max isn’t a part of this, we have to assume this woman who’s holding Y/N hostage overheard what you said to her. Where were you when you talked to Max?”

Spencer’s eyes snapped onto the older man, frantic and wild. His heart pounded in his chest as his blood turned to ice.

“At your wedding.” Spencer croaked. “I told Max that at your wedding.”

In his peripheral vision he noticed someone pass by, dressed in a caterer's uniform. He waited for them to leave before he spoke again.

His eyes quickly found the image on the screen again only this time he didn’t look at you, he looked at the woman with her arm around your neck.

“Fuck,” Spencer choked on his breath. “She was there! She was dressed as a freaking caterer!”

All eyes turned to the screen while the others tried to deduce if they recognised her.

“You’re sure?” Luke was the one to ask.

“Yes.” Spencer nodded defiantly. “I saw her throughout the day, didn’t really pay her much attention. But she was there when I was talking to Max. I saw her. I thought she walked off but it’s safe to say I wasn’t exactly focused on her. She could have just been out of view, listening while I told Max what happened.”

“Her name is Juliette Weaver.” Penelope suddenly looked up from her laptop. “I just got over the prison visitor records. She’s visited Cat five times in the last two weeks. And before that, she was an inmate at the same correctional facility. She was released a little over a month ago.”

“Ok, I’ll bite. If this woman was really at my wedding, watching you and listening to your conversations, I’m still not sure what Cat has to gain by kidnapping Y/N.” Rossi pulled a face.

“She got back at me for arresting her by having me arrested.” Spencer started to pace as he let the thoughts flow. “Then we destroyed her relationship with Lindsey, exposed her affair with Wilkins, to the one person who ever loved her. We proved playing the game with me was more important than being faithful to Lindsey.”

“So you think she wants to kill Y/N, take away the one person who loves you just like you did to her?” JJ mused.

Spencer suddenly stopped pacing, eyes landed on JJ.

“No,” he shook his head. “She doesn’t want her dead.”

“So what does she want?” Matt frowned.

“Last time she wanted to prove that we’re the same. Me and Cat. This time she wants to prove I’m like him.”

“Him?” Garcia questioned.

“Jared.” Spencer exhaled. “At the wedding you told me how Y/N had been found with Jared’s hand around her throat. I bet Juliette overhead that too.”

“So?” Garcia shrugged.

“She was found being strangled, just like when I had Cat up against the wall in the interrogation room by her throat.” Spencer clenched his jaw.

He saw some confused eyes, the whole team had not been privy to that part of his encounter with Cat. Emily hadn’t let the others see the video footage, thinking the fewer people knew of it the better.

“Cat wants to prove to Y/N that I am no better than her husband. She doesn’t want to kill her, it would be too easy. It would be worse for me for Y/N to live and never be able to look at me the same.” Spencer’s whole body deflated.

“Or let you live knowing you couldn’t save her.” Luke spoke, his tone morose.

“Either way we need to find her.” Emily turned stern. “And the best way to do that would be…”

“No,” Spencer shook his head, whining. “Please? There must be another way.”

“If we give her what she wants she could slip up. We can profile what she says on the date. She’d be out of her comfort zone.” Emily shrugged as if there was no other way.

Maybe there wasn’t.

“Fucking hell,” Spencer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”

“Alvez and Simmons, you'll go with them.” Emily instructed. “Garcia, see if you can find any more on Juliette Weaver.”

Soon the five of them, Spencer, Luke, Matt, Emily and Garcia exited the room, the others staying behind to continue pursuing other leads. As they passed by Emily’s office, the Unit Chief spoke again.

“Reid, a word?”

Spencer halted in his tracks, inhaling deeply before slowly following her into her office.

She closed the door behind him, moved over to her desk which she leant back against.

“You sure you can do this?” She folded her arms across her chest.

Spencer took a beat, thought about that question for a moment or two before he responded with a simple, “no.”

“If there was another way…”

“I know.” He nodded stiffly. “I just need a minute to compose myself. If I have to see Cat right now I will undoubtedly kill her.”

The gumption to his tone frightened Emily for a second. She knew he wasn’t exaggerating, he would most certainly kill her.

“If you kill her we may never find Y/N. Just try and remember that.” Emily spoke softly, trying to calm him.

“If we don’t find her,” he clenched his jaw. “If she dies, I will murder Cat Adams with my bare hands. And rest assured I will sleep well afterwards.”

With that he turned and forced the door open, fleeing the room before Emily could even so much as blink.

And she knew more than ever that they had to bring you back unharmed, or she would inevitably lose two members from her team.

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @frostandflamesfanfic @pixiehex1985 @release-your-sweets @mavel-fan-for-life @megan-mars @hales-17 @onlyspence @werewolfbansheelove @gubsi @vivian-555 @ropickle @meowiemari @dil3mma @wolfstar-17 @kylakins88 @shqwqrma

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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gh0stlyfixation · 1 year

Note

I would love a Klaus request for Klaus x fem! Where a witch puts a curse on y/n so that blood can not heal you and you get hurt used as a pawn between the vampires and witches. But Davina is a good friend to y/n so she lifts the curse and Klaus heals you before its too late <3

His Peace

I hope this is what you wanted. It’s short and sweet🤍 I know you said fem but it turns out GN without me realizing it.

Paring: Klaus Mikaelson x GN!reader

Warnings: none? Grammar errors probably

A human living in New Orleans was a bad idea. You moved here under the impression of a safe new environment but then you met Davina, your best friend. She did her best to keep you away from life after explaining the supernatural world but Klaus found out about you, you were his bait.

You didn’t fight much, you stayed quiet most of the time in the room Klaus trapped you in. It was filled with old books that didn’t excite you but it was all you had. You didn’t understand the point of your entrapment as he treated you well, you were just leverage.

“I hope your stay is well,” Klaus said as he opened the door.

You look up at him, “would be better if I had some comfy clothes instead of 3-day-old jeans.” You say with distaste, not bothered by Klaus's presence.

Klaus couldn’t understand you. He walks back out confused by you. You weren’t afraid of him like most people were. Klaus comes back with a pair of sweats and a sweater, “why aren’t you afraid?” He asks.

You look at him, “I’ve seen far darker things than this Niklaus. You’ve treated me better than most men I’ve met in my life.” You tell him then looking at the clothes, “thank you.” You say softly.

“Care to explain further?” He requested.

“Care to let me go home?” You questioned him.

That was four years ago, now Klaus was the love of your life.

Klaus cherished you, you were his saving grace. Since you came into his life, his attitude changed for the better. He stopped the plotting and scheming of witches, wanting nothing more than to have a safe life with you.

But that didn’t mean Klaus didn’t have any more enemies. Unknowingly, witches put a curse on you, not able to heal with the blood of a vampire, then you go missing one day, waking up chained in a cell in the cemetery of New Orleans. “What do you want?” You ask weakly. Unable to move, or breathe. You were slowly dying.

It seems the witches weren’t done with Klaus, using you as a pawn. It sends him into a frenzy, demanding everyone to look for you, Elijah and Davina find you but it’s nearing the end for you. Blood drains from you, you're too weak. Elijah forces the blood in your throat but to no avail, you don’t heal, “why isn’t this working!” Elijah yells.

“It seems they've been cursed, only the act of a black object can loft the curse.” A witch taunts Elijah. Davina looks up, tears pooling in her eyes, and she’s angry.

She kills the witch on the spot. “Take em to my home,” Davina yells. Klaus meets Elijah there, and soon after Davina is there searching her room for her black object, the only one she keeps. She finds it, a small silver dagger.

Klaus holds your limp body, your heart slows by the minute. Davina rips off your necklace and places the dagger over it. She whispers the spell, even Klaus and Elijah can’t hear.

Klaus began to cry, lose tears fall from his face landing onto your face. “It’s done,” Davina says. In an instant, Klaus shoves his bleeding wrist in your mouth. The blood trickled down your throat. Klaus is sobbing.

Davina watching in shock, the love Klaus holds for you is true, she’s always hated him for what he has done, never supporting this relationship but now, she holds nothing but respect for him, watching as he cries for you to come back. She shared a glance with Elijah, he thinks the same.

Slowly, the color returns to your face, and you began coughing violently. Klaus holds you against his chest, patting your back lightly like he would a child. Davina lets out a breath of air, relieved to see you breathing.

Klaus tightly holds onto you, as if you would walk away from him, he never wanted to let you go. “Nik?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“You're alright love, I’m here, your okay.” He says rocking you back and forth. You cry into his chest holding onto him tightly.

Klaus makes a decision right there that you two are leaving this town, your life is far too precious to be in a place like this. He can’t afford to lose the love of his life. His future, you are his peace.

#klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #niklaus imagines #niklaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #the originals klaus #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus #niklaus imagine #niklaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus x reader #the originals imagine #the originals

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

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Heart’s Munition

Chapter 1

Pairing Mob boss!Steve x single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Series masterlist

Warning: Steve is a slut (he will be through part of the series), talk of throwing up, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of cutting off hands, Elijah is our sweet boy (he deserves a bit of a warning) mentions of medication.

A/N: here we go with a new series! I know this is just the first chapter but the story I have envisioned is just ✨🤌🏻💋👩🏻‍🍳✨ both series and permanent taglist are open for 18+ only dividers related by the lovely Em @writing-for-marvel (originally made for is it a crime? But I thought they fit this fic!)

The sun hadn’t risen yet but you were already awake. There was a list you went over every morning before you could even step out of your small one bedroom apartment. It didn’t simply consist of making sure you had your keys, purse and phone with you, it was more complicated.

“Elijah,” you called softly from the side of your son’s bed. “Wake up my love.” You caressed his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. “Good morning baby.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Morning ma.” Elijah smiled sleepily at you.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good. I had a dream that I was riding on a giraffe but I was hanging on to it’s neck so I could see everything”

“That’s good baby, means the medicine is working. Did you have fun riding the giraffe?” He nods and you snicker while getting up to grab one of the many medications he’s on and prepare the first dose of the day. “Now, Mrs. Fields is going to be here in a few minutes, I already have your breakfast ready. All she has to do is warm it up for you. If you don’t feel sick afterward she’ll take you to school and pick you up after and then I’ll see you later tonight ok?”

“Ok.”

He accepts the medicine you give him and scrunches his face in disgust as the liquid goes down his throat. You sit with Eli for a few minutes and he sits in your lap, his face hidden in your neck. These little moments were everything to you because you weren’t sure why he was sick and if he’d survive it.

“Alright baby, I love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you to the moon and back ma. Have a good day at work.”

“Have a good day at school.” You smile and kiss his forehead.

In the living room you look over which medication needs to be refilled and you make an online request for them. Then you set a reminder on your phone to pick them up on your break. The door to the bathroom closes and you stop to listen to see if Elijah is throwing up but to your relief he isn’t. Soon enough the front door opens and Mrs. Fields walks in.

She had been your saving grace after moving to this new apartment. She lived in the building across the street and you ran into each other at the corner store. After knowing each other for a few weeks she offered to look after Elijah after school for you. At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea but if you wanted to keep the job you had there was no other choice. Once Elijah started getting sick she stepped up even more. Without her you’d be out on the street by now.

She smiles at you causing the wrinkles around her eyes and the laugh lines to deepen. Her salt and pepper hair is up in a twist with a clip holding it in place. The older woman holds out a cup of coffee and a bag for you.

“Here, breakfast and before you complain remember you have to keep your strength up too.”

“Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.” You take the coffee and the bag and hold it in one hand while grabbing your bag. “Eli took his medicine already and he seems to be feeling good. I think today might be a school day.”

“I’ll get him ready then. Have a good day at work and don’t worry about a thing.”

“Bye, call me if you need anything.” You say before heading out of the door and in the direction of the nearest subway station.

The house, or better yet, the mansion was quiet which was a relief. It meant you had enough time to change into your uniform and get a second cup of coffee. As you put away your bag in the locker your employer had set up in a room by the kitchen. Just like always, you were one maid short and the other was late considering her locker was wide open.

“Morning Dom.” You greet the cook as you enter the kitchen.

“Ah, my favorite coworker.”

“And apparently your only coworker.” You tell the older man.

Dominick has worked at the mansion for a long time before you ever started working there. He was in his early fifties with a beer belly, chubby cheeks, tattoos covering all of his arms and a bald head. Your favorite thing about him was that he looked deadly but was the sweetest man on earth. In a weird way he had become a sort of father figure in your life. He was only one of the two people that knew about Elijah’s existence at the house. The other being Coulson, the estate manager.

“She’s probably running late, you know how that ditz is. I don’t even know why they hired her because she isn’t good at her job.”

“You know why she was hired.” You bat your lashes at Dom and smile sweetly. “Oh no, do you think you could get that for me, my skirt is way too short for me to bend over. If I do, you'd know I’m not wearing any panties.” You say in a high pitched voice. Dom laughs as he makes you a cup of coffee.

“You are trouble, Mia Cara.”

“Only the fun kind.”

“What’s the fun kind of what?” Dom turns to the stove while you turn around to see your Boss’s best friend and right hand walking into the kitchen.

Long brown hair, steel blue eyes and a smirk that could make anyone’s knees weak. Bucky Barnes takes the seat next to you at the breakfast bar and smiles in your direction while he awaits an answer.

“Nothing Mr. Barnes. It was just a conversation between Dom and I.”

“Don’t be like that doll. I just wanna be your friend is all.”

You roll your eyes and stand to wash the mug you’d used. “I don’t need friends, I need to get started with work seeing as I’m the only one here today. Have a good day Mr. Barnes.”

“Why don’t you ever call me Bucky?”

“I’ll call you Bucky the day you stop calling me Doll.” You give him a fake smile and walk out.

“Have I done something to make her so standoff-ish?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. She just has her reasons, she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“She didn’t have an issue being friends with you.” Bucky says annoyed at the fact.

“That’s because I’m charming and the ladies love me. Especially Y/N.”

“There’s no way, her heart is made of ice.”

“Fortunately for the rest of us, not everything revolves around you. Now let her be if she wants you to be her friend, she’ll let you in.”

Bucky just scoffs and takes the cup of coffee Dom puts in front of him.

Steve groans as he sits up in bed. Usually he’d already be up and down in his office by this time but he’d spent the better half of the early morning getting information out of some idiot that thought it’d be a good idea to steal from him. The rest of the morning was spent with the newest maid in bed.

She was pretty but she wasn’t anything special. He regretted taking her to bed the minute she started writhing beneath him like if she was possessed. He was good, he was great even, but she was just putting on a show as if that would prevent him firing her after this. Steve looked over his shoulder one more time before heading into his bathroom for a shower.

****

Once he got into his office Steve saw both Bucky and Sam waiting for him. By Bucky’s face alone Steve knew he had something to say.

“You really need to stop sleeping with the maids.” Bucky said as soon as he closed the door.

“Why does it matter who I sleep with?”

“Because you keep screwing Y/N over and I like her. She minds her business, turns a blind eye if we come in bloody and bruised and doesn’t ask any questions.”

“You’re trying to be friends with her aren’t you?”

“So what if I am? I think it would be good to befriend her, make sure she really won’t spill the beans if cops come asking questions.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t want any of his men to be friendly with you. Mostly because he wanted you for himself. So if his men did in fact become friends with you, getting you into his bed would be even more difficult. If he got what he wanted, which he always did, Steve would have to fire you. It was written into the employment contract as a way to protect himself. Steve knew his best friends and right hand men thought you were sweet, he did too. It was in your smile the first day Coulson introduced you.

The first time he made a pass at you though he also saw how angry you could get and you shut him down immediately. In all honesty your attitude turned him on so much he ended up having to take care of his hard on before he could continue his meetings. It had been a few months since then and you still wouldn’t sleep with him. So Steve getting you in his bed became a game for him. He liked the chase and you gave him the satisfaction of not being easy. But he knew it would be a matter of time before you caved and once you did he would make sure to give you a hefty sum of money and send you on your way. It didn’t matter that you were in fact a really good employee. Or that he was starting to care for you more than he’d like.

“Stop trying to be friends with the people I hire.”

“She’s different and she isn’t going to sleep with you. From what I can tell she needs the job more than she needs to get dicked down by you.” Sam finally chimed in. “Also I agree with Buck, stop fucking every woman you hire. Get someone at one of your clubs like a normal person.”

“I do who and whatever the fuck I want. That’s enough for this conversation. Do you have the buyers lined up?”

“Yes, our only issue is the Black Order. They’ve tried to corner at least three of our runners in the last few days. If we make the sale we’ll need extra bodies to make the delivery.” Bucky said, leaving behind the previous conversation and getting into work mode.

“Have Barton and Romanoff come in this afternoon so that we can plan a few routes. And have Belova and Bishop come in too, I want them on this issue with the runners.”

After that the three of them kept going on with different deals they were getting ready for. The last few months the Black Order had been trying to take over the city. Something Steve had worked hard to do and maintain. He wasn’t going to let a bunch of nobodies take over and push him out.

You’d just finished dusting the shelves in the living room and were heading to the kitchen to get some water when you see Jessica, the other maid, walk down from the second floor wearing one of Steve’s shirts. She smirks in your direction and walks straight into the kitchen with you following behind.

“Dom, make me an omelet for breakfast.” She demanded.

Dom looked at her and then at you. You only shrugged in response and grabbed a glass to get some water.

“Shouldn’t you be in your uniform? Why are you wearing that shirt?”

“Not that I have to answer to you but I won’t be needing my uniform anymore.”

“And why is that?” He asks amused.

“Well a lady shouldn’t kiss and tell but after weeks of flirting and dancing around our feelings, Steve and I have taken a step towards starting a beautiful relationship.” She says with a smile before it drops and she glared at Dom. “So unless you want me to have Steve fire you, you’ll do as I say.”

You laugh at the last part of her statement and Dom joins in.

“What is so funny? And don’t think that I haven’t seen the way you look at my Steve. You’re already on thin ice so you better show me some respect.”

“Why should I show you any respect?” You say once you’ve calmed down.

“Because I’m the lady of the house now, that’s why.”

That only makes you both laugh more and she lets out a frustrated whine.

“You obviously didn’t read the employment contract before you signed it.” You say as you wipe a tear away. Dom was still laughing, red in the face. “Coulson is going to flip out. You know how he gets all flustered when he has to fire someone.” You tell Dom and that only makes him laugh harder.

“We’ll see about that. And you can consider yourself fired after this.”

Jessica gets up and stomps her way toward Steve’s office. You and Dom follow her and watch as she opens the door without knocking and you cringe. That was a big no-no.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve’s tone made it clear that he was pissed.

“Stevie, will you please tell Dom that he has to do what I say?” Jessica said in a sickly sweet manner.

You rolled your eyes when you finally stepped in front of the doorway.

“Why would I tell them that? Last I checked, Coulson was responsible for the house staff.”

“I know,” she walked around his desk and sat on his lap. “But since things have changed between us and I’m now the lady of the house-“ Steve raises his hand to shut her up.

Sam and Bucky snicker. The latter looking in your direction and you mouth ‘delusional’ which only makes him laugh more.

“Where did you get the idea that you were the lady of the house?”

“Well after last night I thought that we would be together. Also I want Y/N fired.”

Steve runs a hand over his mouth and down to smooth out his beard.

“I’m not going to fire her. Now tell me, you do know what a one night stand is right?” He says as he gently pushes her off his lap.

Jessica looks at him dumbfounded while Steve picks up his office phone and asks Coulson to come into his office. The older man walks in a minute later and sighs as he realizes what’s going to happen next.

“Phil could you please explain to Jennifer the guidelines in the contract and handle whatever else is necessary.”

“My name is Jessica.” She stomps her foot like a child having a tantrum. She looked around to see if anyone was going to speak up but when no one did she focused on you. “I bet you’re really enjoying this aren’t you? He’s going to do the same with you.”

“Why do you think I haven’t slept with him?”

“Jessica, could you please follow me?” Coulson says already over the situation. “I need a meeting with you later, sir.”

Steve just waves him away and Jessica stomps all the way out of the office. Dom follows but heads to the kitchen and you remain where you are. Your attention is on the stairs as Jessica goes up to get her clothes so you don’t notice that Steve has moved to stand in front of you. When you look back he’s too close for comfort. You place your hand in the middle of his chest and push him back.

“I want a raise.” You say as you cross your arms.

Steve smirks as his eyes roam your figure and you roll your eyes.

“And why should I give you a raise?”

“For starters I’m doing the job of three people because you keep getting your dick wet with everyone Coulson hires. Also I’m a damn good employee. I deserve a raise.”

“You know I could just take care of you. All you have to do is say the word and I’d give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

You lean to the side to look at Sam and Bucky who are further in the office. “Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately for all of us, doll. I mean Y/N.”

“You should have given me a heads up on day one Buck.”

He smiles, happy that he’s getting somewhere with you.

“I’d rather keep my job. So the raise?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for a million fucking dollars.” You scoff. “Oh and I get to help Coulson hire the next two employees.”

“You’d make a good lady of the house and you would never have to lift a finger again.”

“Just get tested often.” You scoff. “Get it through your head. I will not be sleeping with you ever.” You say and you turn on your heel and leave.

Steve groans as he closes the door. His forehead rests against it as he tries to ignore the fact that he’s hard, again, because of you.

“I really like her.”

Sam agrees with Bucky as Steve turns to look at both of them with a scowl on his face.

“Just give her the raise, she deserves it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sits behind his desk again. “Where were we?”

You ended up working until at least 7:30 because you were the only one but at least it was some extra money for you. Fortunately the day was finally over and you were grateful for that and the fact that it was Friday. That means you had two days to be at home with your baby to take care of him the way you wish you could all the time.

“Hey Mrs. Fields, how did today go?” You asked as soon as you walked through the door.

“Apparently school was very good. They had some type of group project to work on. And he seems to be feeling very good today although he did lay down for a little nap around five.”

“Ok good. Here you go.” You place some cash on the table in front of her. “Thank you for everything.”

“Please take this back, I’ve told you that you don’t have to pay me. I have my husband’s pension.”

“It’s the only way I’m comfortable with you doing so much for us. Please just take it.”

“Fine, but I’m still not going to use it. If you have an emergency just know you can come to me.”

You appreciate the gesture but you worked hard so that you didn’t have to depend on anyone. It was a lesson you learned the hard way when you found out you were pregnant at sixteen. Elijah’s father disappeared and your family turned their back on you for being a so-called disgrace. Not so long after informing your mom and stepdad of the pregnancy they kicked you out. They said they couldn’t have you giving your younger stepsister a bad example. So your entire pregnancy was spent in a shelter for women. The first few months of Elijah’s life hadn’t been easy but you figured it out. You were able to finish high school while working at the same time. It was shitty pay but it was something and you haven’t stopped working since.

“I’ll never tire of saying it Mrs. Fields but I really appreciate you.”

“Oh honey, you’ve given this old woman something to look forward to. If it wasn’t for you and Eli I think I’d lose my mind all alone. Now why don’t you get some rest.” She pats your back gently. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

You lock the door once she’s left and head toward Eli’s room. Sure enough he’s sleeping and considering it’s evening he’d probably sleep through the night. Some of the medication tended to make him drowsy. You sit on the couch with the intention of taking off your shoes and checking your bank account so that you can pay some bills before showering and changing into pajamas. Instead you end up asleep, it was where you slept every night anyways.

“Ma.” Elijah calls out just above a whisper but it still startles you awake. The first thing you think is that he doesn’t feel well but when you sit up and look at him, he gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ok baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. You just never came in to say good night. Then I woke up to use the bathroom and saw you asleep and you weren’t in your jammies.”

You look down and groan, causing Eli giggles.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll be right back.” You do as you said but took some extra time to let the warm water relax your muscles a bit.

It was almost midnight and yet your son sat up on the couch waiting for you. There were two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with chips and two cups of milk waiting on the coffee table. The couch also had the sheets, pillows and blanket you used all set up for you.

“What is this?” You ask as you sit down and turn on the tv just to have something on in the background while you talk.

“I set up your bed because I know you’re tired. I didn’t have dinner and I know you didn’t either. You take care of me so I can take care of you too, ma.” He said before you could protest. “Also Mrs. Fields made something but it didn’t look good so I just said I was tired and that I’d eat later.”

“So you lied?” You ask while before taking a bite of the sandwich Elijah had made.

“I didn’t want to be mean and hurt her feelings.” He frowned as he thought of his action.

“It's ok baby, I understand why you did it but we’ll talk about that later. Now this is the best Pb and J I’ve ever had. Maybe you should make dinner more often.”

“Wait until you try my cheese sandwich.” He smiles.

“If you keep it up I’ll send you to one of these cooking shows for kids. They would love you.”

“Gordon Ramsey would lose his shit if he had my cheese sandwich.” He laughs when your jaw drops.

“Elijah!”

“What? You say it all the time.”

You glare at him playfully and he just laughs more. “That’s a good point, maybe you’d be better as a lawyer.”

“I don’t like arguing. It would probably get boring because I’m pretty sure I would be right all the time.”

“At least you’ll be humble.” You chuckle.

After you’ve finished eating Eli crawls onto your lap. Fortunately he still likes to be cuddled. You put on some show he likes and when his breathing has evened out you carry him to bed and tuck him in.

You clean up quickly and lay down on the slightly lumpy couch. It doesn’t take much to fall back asleep although your back will ache lightly the next morning like it always does.

“You have got to stop.” Coulson said as he walked into Steve’s office late on Friday night. “How many more times am I going to have to deal with the same issue? It’s been at least fifteen women this year alone and it’s barely June.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he was scolded yet again for the same reason. Still he kept his mouth shut as Coulson paced the length of his office.

“And I swear you better stay away from Y/N. She’s the best damn employee I have and if she leaves because of you I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok tough guy why don’t you sit down before you fuck up my floor.”

“I’m serious Steve, I know that you want her because she’s giving you a run for your money but please back off. I need her here because she keeps to herself and she won’t run her mouth with what she sees. And I know she won’t run to the cops because she needs this job more than she needs more problems.”

Steve perks up at the last part of the of his statement.

“What problems does she have?”

Coulson closes his eyes as he realizes what he’s said. You had trusted him with the information about your son in hopes that if you had to leave suddenly it wouldn’t affect your employment. Of course you had asked that he wouldn’t say anything, especially to Steve or his friends because you were afraid they might use your son against you.

“Normal people have problems Steve. Mundane problems that you’ve probably haven’t had since you became the king of New York.”

“Wait a minute, if something is wrong though I want to help her. Me wanting to sleep with her had nothing to do with that. You know I want the people that work for me well taken care of. So what is it Phil?”

“I can’t say,” Coulson shakes his head. “She asked me not to say anything and I’ve fucked it up already. Just stop trying to sleep with her, Y/N really doesn’t need to be harassed every single time she comes in to work. She’s a good kid.”

Steve studies Coulson’s face, seeing how genuine he’s being with the request. He nods, accepting what he’s been told. But the moment the door is closed he picks up his office phone and makes a call.

“Hey Parker, are you busy?” He asks one of his younger associates.

“No, do you need me for something boss? I can be there in a few minutes.”

“You don’t need to come in but I have a job for you.”

“Anything sir.”

“I need you to follow Y/N and tell me if anything is going on with her. I think she might be in some trouble and I want to help.”

“Miss Y/N, boss?” Peter sounded unsure of the request.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No sir, it’s just… she’s really nice and I wouldn’t want her to not trust me if she finds out that I was following her.”

Steve wonders what exactly it is that you’re doing to have his men question their loyalty to him.

“Then don’t get caught.” With that Steve hangs up the phone.

Steve’s willing to do whatever it takes to figure out what’s going on with you. He doesn’t know when it happened but he can’t stop thinking about you. The side of him that he locked away long ago that believed in love and yearned for it is trying to claw its way out. You had done that, with your smart mouth and no bullshit attitude. He moved past wanting you in bed for a night to needing to know more but he was very good at shutting down whatever those emotions were.

Steve sat back in his chair, his mind racing and thinking of the worst case scenarios and how he would help you out of them. Maybe it was an abusive boyfriend. If that were the case it would be an easy fix. Just cut off his hands for even touching you.

The last thing on his mind is that you have a child. A sick child you’d do anything for. Neither of you are prepared for everything that would be coming your way. It would be harder still to realize you’d need each other if you want to survive.

Ch. 2

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#heart’s munition series #mob!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers x single mom!reader #single mom!reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader

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francesderwent · 12 days

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so I heard you wanna talk religion in ttpd! let’s talk I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can).

“they shake their heads saying ‘God help her’ when I tell ‘em he’s my man.” this isn’t the outright controlling judgment of the saboteurs in But Daddy I Love Him. nobody is trying to tell her what to do or force her to break up. this is a simple admission that the situation she’s in is difficult, that she’s chosen a hard path and needs help. and what is her response? “your good Lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, I can fix him, no really I can.” she admits salvation is needed. but Taylor is casting herself as the savior. she doesn’t need any help, any grace, any divine assistance. in fact, she doubles down: “only I can”. she and she alone has the power to reform this man, because of the love between them. it’s reminiscent of False God, except now the idol isn’t their love, it’s just her. she’s going to save him.

what’s interesting to me is we don’t know how the themes of salvation would have been recapitulated in light of the reversal at the end of the song, “whoa maybe I can’t”, because the song ends there. maybe she can’t fix him because he is ultimately unfixable, irredeemable, worthless. or maybe she can’t fix him because she’s not God. and honestly, I think the song is meant to leave us wondering. she’s waking up to reality, but is the reality his smallness of soul or her power trip?

so what is the blatant Christian language in this song for? is it telling us that Christianity is evil for implanting the idea of redemption into our minds when it doesn’t really exist? or is it a hint that trying to become our own gods, even with the best of intentions, is a pathway that leads only to death?

#I think a lot of women do have resentment toward their Christian upbringing precisely because they absorbed this idea of saving a fallen man #but what we have to recognize is #Christianity does not teach that women are supposed to save men!!#Christianity teaches that we are all saved by Christ!!#and so the answer is actually to go deeper into Christianity not to flee from it #and it’s interesting to me that this song doesn’t outright contradict that!!#the song is not about the psychology of trying to fix someone #it’s about the theology of it #Taylor explicitly paints herself as Savior and not psychiatrist #she would have died for his sins!!!!!#and so we can talk all day long about the foolishness of trying to fix someone #but Taylor paints a picture of an even more hubristic foolishness #and the answer could be either ‘he wasn’t worth fixing in the first place. you shouldn’t have tried.’#OR it could be ‘you should’ve had some humility. you should’ve relied on the Lord and not your own strength’#this is me admitting I need a music tag #is it a little dickish of me to post this? yes. I am an imperfect person

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profoundbondfanfic · 5 months

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Hey, I was wondering if you had any reverse fics, with Dean as an angel and Cas as the hunter ?

(also, you are doing God's work and I love your blog so so much ❤️❤️)

Hello there, thank you so much! And here are a few fics we've enjoyed:

Calming the Weather by seidenapfel [Explicit, 35k words]

Rescued from the Empty, Cas is fully human, and miserable. So, rather than acknowledge what happened in the dungeon, Dean searches for a way to change that. He finds it in a simple spell. The spell gives ordinary humans a limited dose of angelic powers. Too afraid it might harm Cas, Dean tests it on himself. But it backfires. Thanks to a piece of Grace bound to his soul, Dean wakes up fully powered, wings and all. With their roles reversed, it is up to Castiel to teach Dean how to wield angelic powers, and for Dean to share the peaks and lows of humanity with Castiel. Misconceptions come to light as they learn from each other. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing. In order to stop it, Dean not only has to get a hold on his emotions, but he must face a revelation about himself, one he had repressed all his life.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) [Explicit, 5k words]

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy. “Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

Grace the Gun by chevrolangels [Explicit, 169k words]

He’s got a shotgun in his hand and his mother’s broken rosary around his neck. His eye is cut open and dripping, and he’s got forty years of Hell fresh in his mind. Do not. Fuck with him. It's been four months since he died, when Castiel wakes up, six feet below the ground, alive. Alive without an explanation, with a mysterious itch under his skin and rumors of a whisper, a whisper of something so powerful, that demons themselves are running scared. Then he meets the thing that pulled him out—a spitfire angel named Dean, who turns out to be nothing to run from. With his sister Anna at his side, Gabriel at his back, and three angels in their corner, they're gonna take the fight to them. And they're gonna show God just exactly how they feel about his plan for fate and destiny.

Hunting for Faith by perunamuusa, riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 270k words]

It starts a few days earlier. Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

My Roots Take Flight by KismetJeska [Mature, 125k words]

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Obey His Word by K_K_TiBal [Teen and Up, 33k words]

When Castiel was ten years old, he was cursed to always be obedient. Now he’s a hunter—not the best one at his job, admittedly, since he’s always forced to comply with the monsters that beg for their life. Everything changes on one such hunt, when an angel named Dean saves his life, and tells Castiel that he’s searching for his missing brother, Sam. His naive callousness about humans and give-em-Hell attitude is off-putting, but Dean ends up being exactly what Castiel didn’t know he needed. As he grows closer to Dean, he tries to keep the secret of the curse close to his chest—but the past always has a way of exposing the truth. Curses are hard—but trust is harder.

the rapture of distress by ozonecologne [Mature, 16k words]

Castiel swung his legs around the edge of the bed and leaned forward, setting the eggs aside. He briefly entertained the notion of patting Dean’s knee, so close to his own now, before deciding against it. Holding hands in your sleep is weird enough. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't the end of the world," he consoled, wiping some grease from his mouth. Dean looked up then, and he remained guiltily silent. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up, up, up, along with his heart rate. His breakfast stuck like glue in his throat. "The end of the world?" Dean winced. "I'm working on it." A reverse!verse AU in which Castiel is a hunter and he’s visited by an angel.

To Hold In Your Hands by saltnhalo [Teen and Up, 6k words]

Castiel has never wanted an angel. He does just fine on his own, has for a long time—since he was old enough to hold a shotgun and make a salt circle. He’s proud of what he’s been able to achieve without angelic help, and the longer he can keep hunting solo, the better. But judging by the summons he’s just received to the Men of Letters’ bunker, his time is up. He can’t avoid his future angel partner any longer. (aka. five times that Dean saves Castiel's life, and five times that Castiel slowly learns angels aren't as bad as he'd thought)

#asks #reverse verse

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red-dead-do-over246 · 1 year

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Fragile Like a Winter Rose

Everyone is used to all the women pining after Javier, but now the man finally has a woman that he's pining after. For five months to be exact. Right after he saved your life. (Javier x F!Reader)

*Mentions of abuse and possible alcoholism*

Guys, it's finally happened. I've become a hardcore simp for Javier ❤️and I adore that man to bits. Please, any asks for him, feel free to send in. I have so many ideas, but this is the only one I will write XD

Javier would never forget that moment.

It was a cold and rainy day when it all happened. Two months before Blackwater and that whole mess. He, Micah, and Arthur were riding out to check on a homestead that Dutch was talking big about. The three men took time to ride out, Micah complaining on the way, only to find that the place was already inhabited by a group of nasty degenerates.

At least they were drunk and nasty degenerates that could hardly shoot straight. The boys took care of them just fine.

There wasn't much money in the house (so Dutch was wrong again), but they did find you tied up and gagged in one of the master bedrooms. A young woman with wide, fearful e/c eyes, clearly terrified of the three men who just found her. Beautiful despite all the signs of obvious abuse, both physical and sexual, which was clear by the way you acted when Arthur tried to free you. You were aggressive, weak but aggressive. Your life must've been hell for a long while.

But thankfully, some talking to from both Javier and Arthur got you to trust them, if just by only a little.

"We're not good men miss, but we won't treat you bad." Arthur had told you, and your eyes softened a bit.

"Come with us." Javier offered his hand to you, but you didn't take it. You were a bit shaky and didn't trust men very much. However, you knew you were better off with them than on your own, so you followed and allowed yourself to come with them.

Then Micah ruined everything.

He's obviously not a sensitive man when it comes to these abusive issues and tried to force you onto his horse to ride with him. He didn't think much of it. The blonde outlaw just wanted the pretty woman to ride with him so he could look like the savior in both your eyes and Dutch's. However, you got the wrong message and freaked out so much that even the horses grew fearful.

"For Christ's sake Micah! Have some damn-" Arthur's scolding went on deaf ears as Javier took it upon himself to show you some kindness and good grace.

"You can ride with me, senorita. I'll keep you safe." He promised you, and you hesitated. You still have yet to say much of anything. Javier didn't even know your name.

But the shouts of angry men and guns caused you, without even thinking, to rush into his arms for protection.

"Aw shit! There's more of 'em!" Arthur shouted as he quickly mounted his horse. Micah already fired a few shots at the approaching men before mounting Baylock.

"They've got our whore!"

"Shoot the lot of 'em!"

Javier was quick to pry you off him and help you on Boaz before hopping up there himself. The three men plus you began to ride hard out of that area as the group of angry degenerates pursued them. Javier was in the lead as Micah and Arthur shot both bullets and curses in the direction of the men shooting back. The rain made it hard to see, but he knew that forward was better than backwards.

But through the yelling, hoof pounding, and gun banging, Javier could feel your tiny body as close to his as your arms were wrapped so tightly around his chest, he could hardly breath. Your head was also nestled into his back as you tried to block out all the noise.

He was a strange man. You just me him. You didn't even know his name. Yet, you've felt safer than ever just being there on the horse with him, something that Javier wouldn't learn till later.

You didn't just hold onto him. You held onto his heart. Since that day, and several months afterwards...

Everyone was now camped in a place called Horseshoe Overlook which was near the small livestock town of Valentine. Dutch had given a big speech about everyone earning their keep, which to the women, meant doing the chores. You've been with this gang for around five or six months now, and became close friends with the girls, even if you were different from the rest.

"Thanks for accepting me so easily." You told them as you guys got to work with the clothes.

"Y/N, you need to stop thanking us or I will ride out to the nearest saloon." Karen warned you, causing the other girls to giggle.

"Please don't." You said, the thought of her drinking making you worried. You've always had a problem with drunks as your experience with them has not been positive.

"See Karen? Listen to Y/N. She's one of us now." Tilly said as she leaned over a wash tin. Karen gave her a look.

"What do you mean? Y/N's a church girl. We're whores." Karen stated matter-of-factly and Mary-Beth hit her arm in a teasing manner.

"Don't say that." She said in that soft voice of hers, yet she was smiling. In fact, all of you were laughing now as Karen's comments kept you all in a joyful mood despite Miss Grimshaw harping on you guys.

After a few minutes passed, Karen nudged you.

"Your boyfriend's back." She stated plainly as she looked down to continue her work. Your face turned red, especially when you noticed Javier walking in your direction.

"Don't spread rumors." You hissed at her and she shrugged.

"Y/N, um..." The poor man looked a bit nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck and fiddled with his hands, "a few of us were headed into Valentine to check things out...care to join us?"

It was an easy excuse from him to spend time with you in the company of others which would make Javier relax a bit more. He saw your eyes look behind him to see the other boys that he was riding out with. When they landed on Bill, you shook your head.

Even though you've been with these people for a while, some of the men in camp still made you a bit uncomfortable with their stares and comments. Bill could be a nasty drunk sometimes, which gave you trauma. Plus, he was a bigger guy which intimidated you. Micah was just all around giving you creep vibes. Hell, even Dutch's flirtatious comments made you uncomfortable sometimes. So, you couldn't bring yourself to go with Javier.

"I'll pass this time." You said, and Javier felt his heart break a little.

"Ay...alright, alright...some other time." He said more to himself as he walked away, mumbling incoherent Spanish words and dragging his feet a little in a defeated manner. Karen then slapped your shoulder after he and the other boys rode out.

"Aww, Y/N! You broke his heart!" She scolded and you did feel a little guilty. However, that washed away quickly.

"Please...he'll probably drink with the others and get with the working girls as soon as he steps into town." You murmured, almost feeling a bit hurt yourself.

Truthfully, Javier was really the only man in camp that you felt truly safe around. Men like Hosea, Arthur, Charles, and Lenny weren't bad, but they didn't share a bond with you that you felt you had with Javier. All you could remember was that day he saved you and you were holding onto him like he was your lifeline. Ever since then, you felt he would protect you. So, the thought of him going out there and wasting away really hurt you, even though Javier had a right to do what he wanted.

"That's ridiculous Y/N. He's been pining for you for months now." Karen said nonchalantly.

"What? Where'd you hear that from?" You asked with a red face.

"Oh honey...It's written all over his face..."

Meanwhile at the saloon in Valentine, Arthur just learned the secret that Javier thought he's been harboring. He may have had a few drinks, but he also trusted Arthur and Charles not to share his feelings for Y/N with anyone.

"You need to ask her out." Arthur stated simply.

"I tried...but she didn't want to come with me." Javier told him solemnly, looking down at his drink.

"With us." Arthur emphasized, "You need to take just her somewhere. Go for a ride or somethin'."

Javier took those words to heart. He knew that you were still a little uncomfortable in camp, so maybe having just him around you would make you ease up a little. But on the other hand, Javier didn't want your bad experience with men to cloud your mind and make him look bad if he did anything wrong.

It didn't matter either way because as soon as he stepped out of that saloon, he and Charles had to go to Blackwater to rescue Sean...

The Irishman threw one of the loudest return parties ever. It was a wonder that the law didn't find you guys with all that racket. People were singing, dancing, and drinking. Javier had his guitar and was at the will of others with their requests. However, he had to cut his songs short as he began to wonder where you went off to. Javier was worried that something bad had happened. But when he set his guitar aside, he could easily spot you sitting at the cliff's edge.

"Eh Senorita, not enjoying the party?" He asked while sitting next to you.

"Noise just isn't my thing. I don't know Sean well, but he's a lot." You said with a slight smile, telling him not to worry.

"Be glad you didn't ride with him all the way from Blackwater." Javier said and you laughed.

"I thought you looked rather quiet. He took a lot out of you." You said and the outlaw nodded before laughing to himself.

"You're always out there saving people." You told him with a grateful smile, and Javier was glad that it was too dark for you to see him blush.

"Yes...um...Y/N?" His tone suddenly turned softer, shyer, and you noticed that he began to play with his hands in a nervous manner. Javier muttered something to himself in Spanish before speaking up once more.

"Would you...like to...go on a ride tomorrow?" He asked, gesturing holding a horse's reins with his hands while turning to look at you. You smiled faintly.

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me, hermosa." Javier stated in a slight dreamy manner as he managed to meet your eyes. You didn't know that he just called you beautiful, but Javier couldn't stop himself. You were just such a gorgeous woman. You took his breath away! And you deserved to be treated like the lady you were.

"Then yes." You told him and Javier felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He gave you a wide grin.

"You've made me very happy, Y/N." Javier told you before looking over his shoulder to see that plenty of people were either going to bed or passed out at the tables.

"The fire is all open...want to join me for one last song?" He offered, again, rather shyly. You felt hesitation stir in your gut, afraid that Bill or Micah might come around. But with Javier there, you felt a little safer.

You nodded.

And as you sat there around the fire, Javier playing his guitar and singing in the softest voice for your benefit, you did feel your heart soar. Maybe Karen was right when she said he had liked you for a long time. You just didn't think a guy like Javier would be so dedicated to one woman for long, and you were so scared to let anyone in.

But how could you ignore his persistence? Javier was like a little puppy begging for your attention.

It made your heart swoon to think that the man who saved you, treated you so kindly, might actually love you. And you felt emotions that you haven't felt in a long time when he finished his song. It almost felt like he was singing it to you. You knew he deserved a sweet gesture for his gentlemanly manner that he's given you for months now.

You leaned over, cupped one side of his face, and kissed his other cheek.

"Goodnight." You whispered before getting up and quickly moving over to where the other ladies were sleeping. Javier was at a loss for words as his jaw dropped a bit. His guitar slipped from his hands as he absentmindedly placed his fingers where you kissed him.

Javier felt like he had been touched by an angel. You always were a fragile woman. Like the last flower to die in winter, just barely holding onto your life and beauty. If anything, Javier felt absolutely blessed to have gotten such a gesture of affection from you.

He didn't know if he was going to sleep much tonight. His dreams would be filled with you.

The next day...

Arthur had gotten up later than usual, and struggled to get out of bed as he felt more tired than when he went to sleep. However, Dutch had asked him to go into town with John today, so go he must. As Arthur moved to saddle up his horse, he noticed a rather familiar American Paint leaving camp.

The outlaw couldn't stop his grin when he noticed Javier in the saddle with you behind him. You had your arms wrapped tenderly around his waist as a smile graced your face--as well as a gorgeous flower in your hair.

As Arthur's eyes met Javier's, the older man gave him a smile and a mock salute.

He had taken his first steps with you, and Arthur knew that if he continued to be dedicated and caring with you, then Javier will get the future of love and family with you that he rambled on about to Arthur in that saloon.

To you, Javier was the best man amongst them all. And Arthur couldn't be happier for him.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 javier #javier x reader #javier imagine

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llovelyclouds · 8 months

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notes on cristabel oct

here's all the relevant info on cristabel i took note of during my tlt reread, in one place!

you can find the rest of the posts in this project here!

CRISTABEL OCT

titles:

Mercymorn’s cavalier, first gen, founded the eighth (with Mercy)

name meaning: in latin the meaning of the name Cristabel is: beautiful christian/follower of christ

notes from harrow the ninth:

The reason Mercy is the Saint of Joy (htn. pg. 177)

Mercy won't talk about her to Harrow, even though John thinks she would, and that her name would upset Augustine (htn. pg. 177)

Augustine doesn't mind talking about her though, and says: "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you'd ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain. The Eighth House will never see her like again." (htn. pg. 177)

“‘You know what I feel… you know I don't think she was the best influence on Alfred… you know I think they brought out the worst in each other, and I don’t think you disagree.’ God said, ‘They were very similar people.’ ‘No,’ said Augustine. ‘They weren’t, John. She was a fanatic and an idiot- yes, she was, Mercy- and he… was a man who regretted he wasn't. It took surprisingly little to lead my brother astray.’” - Augustine and John, discussing whatever happened between Cristabel and Alfred (double suicide, maybe?) (htn. pg. 274)

Augustine hated her for sure, but he’s ok with pretending he didn’t for dios apate reasons (htn. pg. 279)

"Cristabel always said I was tidy." - Mercymorn (htn. pg. 410)

"you picked the wrong man to enter a suicide pact with. I hate 'em. Cristabel might have undone all my good work with Alfred, but here comes the reckoning." - Augustine (htn. pg. 487)

notes from nona the ninth:

"The only other people I put through that damn trial were Mercy and Cris, because only Cris didn't mind being trepanned on the regular."- Pyrrha, about her and G1deon's trial at Canaan house (ntn. pg. 84)

Was Mercy's nun best friend pre-resurrection (ntn. pg. 128)

"I was worried I was going to get the Antichrist bit from her too, but she was just like: stop doing this! Read your Bible! This was Christ's whole problem! I was like, What are you talking about, Jesus cured the lepers and everyone was all, Hooray, thanks man. M-'s nun was all, Are you kidding, Christ never said no and never asked anyone to pay and got everyone to pay way too much attention and brought the heat down on everybody, Christ didn't keep to office hours, she said. Don't do that." (ntn. pg. 190)

“Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved.” (ntn. pg. 399)

“Eventually it was the nun who changed things. She knocked on my door and said very nicely, John, how are you doing? And I said, Not great, honestly. She said, John, how close are you to finding the soul? And I said, I can’t, Sister, It’s too big. I don’t understand why it’s so huge. I can’t find the soul inside the body, I don’t know where to look. I don’t know what I’m doing. She prayed over me, and then she went away for the longest five minutes of my life. [...] Then the nun came back and knocked on my door and said, John, I think I have it. I know you’re very scared right now, but I’m going to help you. Please let me in. He said: I let her in. She’d brought P-’s gun. [...] She just smiled at me. She said, John, don’t misunderstand. I want to help you. I truly believe that in our most terrible hours we don’t instinctively reach out to God; we push ourselves away from Him. Don’t feel bad for not rising heroically to the occasion right now, Fear doesn’t help us achieve a state of grace; it deafens the heart. John, I truly believe you can save everyone. So concentrate, please. She said, Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for our sinners, now and at the hour of our death. And she shot herself.” (ntn. Pg. 404)

#junos silly little locked tomb thoughts #tlt #the locked tomb #tlt meta #tlt analysis #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #alecto the ninth #ntn spoilers #gtn #htn #ntn #atn #cristabel #cristabel oct

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strongsassysexysloane · 1 year

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What You Deserve

Sum: Things get complicated when a case turns into a weekend away. Alcohol is consumed and flirtatious comments leads to...

⚠️ - Sex is mentioned, alcohol consumption, drinking, teasing.. nothing too salacious... yet.

It was always a shame that when you got a case in such a beautiful city, you never got to see the nice side of it. Especially when the hotel was actually decent for a change with a wonderful swimming pool. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than usual and the hotel had the rooms booked for another few days, the only problem was the Agency. They were always the problem.

“What is the point of having our own private jet if we can’t keep it for a few more days and enjoy a well deserved weekend off?” You’d been trying to reason with the higher ups for almost an hour now. Emily tried first, company money and time, they insisted and then you tried. You didn’t have enough pull as Emily did but you were more persistent.

Annoyingly so.

‘We need the jet back in-‘

“Why? It is this team’s personal jet. Who needs it back, when we are all here? We would be using the same amount of fuel..”

Emily was on her third tequila sunrise watching you with amusement. The others had dispersed around the bar, dancing or chatting with the locals. She had hung back to keep you under control but that was before she started drinking half an hour ago.

There was no more arguing with you.

‘It has been over an hour. I don’t know the time where you are, but I want to go home. Have the jet for two more days, fine. You can explain it on the budget next month.’

You smirked and Emily was shocked. “Oh I don’t have to deal with the budget, thanks.” And you hung up, much to Emily’s now new frustration.

“What about the bud-get?!” She was the one having to fill out those reports and give lengthy reasonings about where and why they used their budget.

You shrugged, “This will be put up for questioning next budget review I guess.” Your amusement growing more and more as Emily’s dwindled.

“Those meetings are already hell… This better be worth it.” She grumbled, sipping her drink.

“Just think –“ You paused, she glared at you over the glass. “- Or don’t, that works too.” You held up your hands and backed away, heading for the bar.

You informed the team that you’d secured the weekend for everyone to stay at the hotel. Only issue was you were bunked with Emily for another two nights. That wasn’t really a big issue. There were thankfully two beds to your saving grace but still being in a confined space with her for long periods of time was testing your will power. Not to mention her short sleep shorts.

Usually you managed to bunk with Reid or JJ but this time they got their own rooms and Emily made the call to take one for the team… Meaning bunking with you. Much to everyone’s amusement bar your own. Night one was fine, you were too tired to care. Now you were on night five and alcohol was involved, your will powerful was absolutely drained and Emily was drunk.

When you made it back to the table Emily and JJ were sitting at, you could see more empty glasses which meant she was onto her fifth cocktail.

“Think it’s time to cut you off.” You laughed at her instant frown. “Ok, stand up without swaying and hop on one leg.”

She instantly got up but JJ held on, her hand gripping her shoulder for balance. “This isn’t fair.”

You laughed watching her struggle to lift one foot even with JJ helping her. “Sit down Em.” You sighed, shaking your head.

.. >< ..

The night carried on. To Emily’s delight you didn’t cut her off which was your mistake. Now you were the one helping her walk back to the room. Her feet tripping over themselves which made it extremely difficult to walk let alone stand.

“You’re such a light weight.” You chuckled as she stumbled and leant more on you. “Jesus.” Her arm wrapping around your waist for a second to gain balance.

“Hey. Girls gotta let loose - once in a while.” She hiccupped and regained some balance, removing her hand from your waist.

Thankfully, you reached the room and got her inside and onto the bed. Her drunken smile watching you move around room. The heavy lifting was over, although now you had the task of helping her out of her clothes before she passed out. You handed her a glass of water and she drank it. Your mind going a million miles an hour, you weren’t far off being drunk yourself.

“You’re good at this.” She mumbled, giggled when your fingers tickled the bottom of her feet taking off her shoes. “Not asking permission before you undress me…” She quirked an eyebrow with a smirk. Even wasted Emily could pull off that look.

The thoughts running through your head weren’t innocent when she looked at you like that from this position on your knees in front of her. “Please, I’d be far more seductive undressing you if sex was on the table.” Your eyes slammed closed, and you wanted to hit your head against a brick wall.

“Who said it wasn’t.” She snickered. Not at all regretting flirting with you when you looked like this.

This woman was going to be the death of you. “Do you want help or not?” You looked up at her, legs hanging off the end of the bed where you plopped her, hair a mess, shirt twisted but somehow, she was still the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

“Is sex on the table if I say yes or no?”

“Emily.” You warned and she sighed.

“You’re no fun when drunk. Yes, can I please have help, don’t think I can stand up without it.” She laughed, attempting to stand up but she couldn’t get the momentum. “Nope.”

“Here.” You grabbed her hand and with a bit of momentum on her part, you managed to stand her up. Her hand fell from yours and rested on your waist. “Don’t.” Her hand didn’t listen, it went on exploring and snuck under your top. It took all your will power not to moan at the touch.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t-“ Something must’ve clicked in her drunken brain because she instantly retracted her hand from your skin. She shook her head, trying to shake away the thoughts, the alcohol was melting away her walls and rules.

“Hey,-“ You were soft, your hand coming up to cup her cheek and draw her eyes back to you. “Let me help you, then I’ll get you another glass of water and tuck you in.” You threw in a wink and a smile to calm her beating heart and it worked. It didn’t help your racing heart after her touch and how she was looking at you, but she needed help right now and your feelings took a back seat for now.

There was a quick nod and you proceeded to unbutton her shirt and take it off then you helped her undo her trousers. Nothing was said between you, both of you silent and breathy controlling your impure thoughts. You’d never get the image of her in her underwear out of your head and you didn’t want to.

She sat back down on the bed and curled up under the covers.

“I’ll be right back.” You brushed her hair out of her face and swore you heard her purr at the touch.

The bathroom was a saving grace, you took a minute to settle your nerves. Undressing Emily took all your will power, touching her skin was intoxicating and you worked quick as not to wonder. She didn’t seem to mind but then in her state she did put sex on the table. You shook your head and filled up a glass of water for her.

She passed out almost right away after you tucked her in. You made sure she drank the water before falling asleep then you got ready for bed. It was late so sleep came easy but your dreams had you squirming.

The sun didn’t wake you but the sound of someone puking did. Your eyes flickered open and there it was again. Last night quickly came back to you and you shot out of bed. “Em!”

“Don��t come in here!” She quickly flicked the door and it slammed shut in your face.

“Come on. I can hold your hair up at least.”

“No!” She yelled before throwing up again. “Why didn’t you stop me from drinking?!” She coughed and flushed the toilet. Her head hadn’t felt this bad since her late teen years.

You shook your head and leant back against the wall. “Oh gee, like I could stop you, I suggested it five drinks in. You had other ideas.” There was the tap and you heard her brushing her teeth so you walked back to bed. “You’re cut off from drinking for the rest of the weekend though.” You grumbled and flopped back into bed, your head wasn’t feeling that great either.

“Excuse me?” Her hands were on her hips as your rolled over to look. “Did you suddenly become miss boss over night?”

“Fine, drink. Go sleep in Morgan’s room, he might take you up on the sex offer you so readily gave out to me last night.” Your words did the exact thing they intended, she blanched.

Her hands fell from her sides, one came up to cradle her forehead. “I didn’t... did I? You’re screwing with me, right?”

“Pretty sure you were the one wanting to be screwed...” You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation and before coffee too.

She walked over to your bed. “I’m sorry I di- I’m sorry.”

The fact that she stopped herself from retracting the statement had you perplexed, and you rolled over onto your side. Thankfully you had the sheet pulled up over your waist because her hand came out and rested on your hip.

“Thank you for being my saviour.” Her thumb rubbed circles over the sheet.

“Always, now is sex still on the table or is that just a drunk Emily thing?” You got a shove for that and you both laughed. “Drunk Emily. Got it.” Two could play at the teasing game.

She shook her head and walked back over to her bed. “You’re something else.” Her back was to you so she could hide the massive blush all over her face. “Might rest up a bit before showing my face at breakfast.”

“It’s only early, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you before breakfast is over.”

You set your alarm to wake you both up later, thankfully, because you drifted back into your dreams. Dreams where Emily made good on her drunken wishes. The beeping woke you up before it got really good, and you groaned.

An amused Emily was perched on her elbow looking at you. “Good dream?”

Her amused smirk gave away that she’d woken up before the alarm and heard you in your sleep. The blush started to heat up your cheeks. “Might’ve been.” You sheepishly looked away from her daring gaze and hopped out of bed. “Breakfast time.”

“Oh, I took the liberty of ordering us room service, I hope you don’t mind.”

You just shrugged, yawning as you walked to the bathroom and away from her inquisitive gaze.

“Got time for a quickie if you get back in bed.”

You almost walked into the bathroom door at her words.

She must’ve heard the oomph sound because you could hear her laugh before she clarified. “A quick nap.”

“Yeah sure, that’s what you meant.” Sexually frustrated you was beginning to show, “You had your chance.” You said as you turned on the tap and splashed your face, trying to wake up quicker.

There was shuffling from the room. “Was thinking after breakfast we could go down to the pool. Morgan texted and said him and JJ were hitting the bar later –“

“No bar!”

She chuckled, “Oh there will be bar but no tequila, I think I’ve finally learnt my lesson with that one.” She watched you as you padded around the room, looking anywhere but at her. The fact that she’d woken up at the first alarm you’d set but quickly hit snooze and stayed awake to hear you moan her name had her legs twitching. Plus, the memories from last night were flooding back, the look you gave her had her wishing she hadn’t been that intoxicated and followed through.

You grabbed your clothes for the day, opting to put your bikini on underneath to save time later. As you were getting changed and thinking of anything to get your mind of Emily in bed, the room service arrived. It smelt amazing. Emily was perched at the small table with two plates of everything you could want from the buffet.

“This looks amazing.”

“I’m hoping it’ll settle my raging hangover.” She chomped on a hashbrown.

Breakfast was spent in silence, both of you were too hungry to carry any further banter. Although you could feel her eyes on you. A text notification broke the silence and it was Penelope wondering where you two were. They were already pool side. Another text came through and it was of Morgan sipping a drink in the pool. If you were straight that would be a site to see but it did nothing for you.

“Guess I better slip into something for the pool.” She winked as she hopped up from the table.

You prayed she had her back turned before the blush tinged your face as your brain was going ballistic with images of Emily in a bikini although your brain didn’t need to imagine for too long.

A few minutes later she walked out of the bathroom in just a red bikini and the beach towel wrapped around her waist. Why was it always red?

“You coming?”

You realised you had been staring for far too long and she had a very amused smirk on her face. “Be right down.” You needed a moment to cool off but even that wouldn’t happen.

She was in the pool by the time you got down and sat beside Penelope. “I think I need a drink.” You grumbled to an amused Garcia. Your eyes hadn’t left Emily’s body as she ducked underwater.

“Morgan, get Y/N a strong drink!” She shouted from her seat over to Morgan at the bar. He just smirked in response and relayed your order to the bartender. “Best way to cure a hangover, keep drinking.”

Before you could get the relief of alcohol, Emily popped up at the pools edge. “Don’t make me get out and pull you in.”

Your brain went fuzzy before Penelope shoved your shoulder. “Go. She’ll make us both wet.”

You wanted to punch the cute blonde for that remark but thankfully Morgan handed you your drink before anyone could do anything.

“Don’t think I wont push you in with a drink in hand.”

“Come on, shes practically begging you. If only I got that sort of attention from-“

“Hey!” Garcia shoved Morgan.

“Sorry baby girl.” He grinned and kissed her forehead.

You took a long swig of your drink and stood up, unwrapping the towel from around your waist. It took all your will power to avoid Emily’s eyes as you walked up to the pool. You could feel her eyes on you as you walked around and found the steps.

Was it to delay the process and for her to check you out? Absolutely.

You had no idea where this confidence was coming from but you held onto it, diving under the water and going up the opposite end to where she was.

“She’s playing dirty. I knew I liked her.” Morgan chuckled and got a raised eyebrow from Emily. “Oh, she’s all yours. I know better.” He smirked, watching Emily swim towards you. “This could be trouble."

Pen just grinned. “They deserve each other.”

They laughed and continued to not so subtly watch this play out. “I’m so glad we got the weekend off.” Derek smirked.

. . . . . . . . .

Let me know what you think, unsure how quickly updates will come. Most of it is written just needs to be edited. I dislike editing so comments and positivity will help ;)

#emily prentiss x female reader #emilyprentiss #criminal minds reader insert

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

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I Can't Lose You

PART FOUR

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: The BAU team is hunting a sadistic murderer and you go undercover to reveal his identity and catch him in the act. Things don’t go according to plan and so much is revealed about you, your team, and your boss…things that will change all of your lives forever.

Warnings: Cursing. Lots of angst. Sweet fluffy fluff. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

A/N: Series should be read in order or it won't make sense. This part also jumps between different Hotch's and Isabelle's POVs.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

**********One Week Later

You never thought you would be this happy to be back in DC. There were too many people, it was too congested, too dirty—but it was home. Well you weren’t exactly home, but you were a lot closer to it than you had been a few hours prior.

You shifted your weight and the handsome man beside you looked at you with concern.

You smiled at him. “Just moving, Aaron. Relax.”

He blushed. “You know I worry.”

“And that’s quite sweet of you, but it’s not necessary.”

“Deal with it…I’m never going to stop.”

You chuckled lightly. “I think I’m okay with that.”

The two of you were on your way to George Washington University Hospital in downtown DC. You were a couple minutes out and you were dreading being stuck in a hospital bed again. The only saving grace was that you could see your family.

A few minutes later, Hotch pulled into the parking garage and helped you get out and into a wheelchair. You hated feeling so weak and having to rely on someone else agitated you, but you were still in too much pain to walk on your own. Hotch wheeled you into the elevator and you began the ascent to the rehab floor.

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator doors opened.

You nodded and he wheeled you out. He already knew what room you’d been assigned to and when he wheeled you in, your jaw dropped in surprise.

“There she is!” Morgan said loudly.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in the room. Every member of your team was crammed into the small room. Your heart filled with joy and you grinned. “Hey guys.”

Penelope rushed over, practically running over Morgan in the process. “I would hug you, but I don’t wanna hurt you. Oh I’m so happy to see you!” she blurted.

You laughed. “I’m so happy to see you too, PG.” You squeezed her hand just as Morgan stepped forward.

“Hey now, don’t hog my girl,” he said with a grin.

You laughed and squeezed his hand too. “I missed you too, D.”

“I missed you more, Iz.” He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, then stepped aside to let Rossi see you.

He had tears in his eyes and it nearly broke your heart. “I’m so glad you’re home,” he said softly.

“Me too, Dave. Me too.” You reached out and took both of his hands in yours. He smiled at you and gave them a gentle squeeze.

When he stepped back, Emily came forward.

“Em,” you said lightly.

“I’m trying not to cry,” she said with a chuckle. “I need to maintain my persona.”

You smiled as tears stung your eyes. “Good, because if you cry, then I’ll cry and it’ll be a huge mess.”

Everyone laughed and Emily gave your hand a squeeze.

JJ came up to you and you could tell that she’d been crying. “J…” you said softly.

“Oh, I’m fine! I’m just so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was light, but you could tell she had been worrying nonstop.

You gave them both a smile. “I love you guys.” You looked around the room. “All of you.”

Your eyes landed on the one person that you’d been dying to see. “Spence,” you said softly.

He was looking at you timidly and he didn’t move closer.

“We’ll give you two a moment,” Hotch said gently.

The room cleared and it was just you and Reid. He stood there in silence, not looking at you.

“Spence. Talk to me—please.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled without looking up.

“For what? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Hey—” you wheeled yourself towards him, ignoring the pain in your arms. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”

He finally looked at you and you saw the tears streaming down his face. He looked like the vulnerable kid you’d met 5 years ago. Your heart snapped in two and you instinctively reached out to him.

He stepped back and hurt crossed your face.

“You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t suggested going undercover.”

“Jacobs wouldn’t have gotten what he deserved either. I’m fine, Spence. My body will heal.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

You looked at him in surprise. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I have no reason to be mad at you.”

He looked at you in silence.

“Spence…I love you. Nothing is going to change that. I’m not going to forgive you because there is nothing toforgive. But you need to forgive yourself if you’re ever going to move on.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I was so scared that I was never going to see you again.”

“I know—but I’m right here.”

He started to cry harder and instinct took over. You pulled him into you and he cried into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you like a child clinging to his mother. You winced, but you held him just as tightly and gently soothed him until the sobs ceased.

“I love you, Izzy.”

“I love you too, Spence.” You kissed the top of his head and he straightened up. “Better?”

He gave you a small smile. “Better.”

He got up and went to go bring the rest of the team back in. It was so wonderful to see their faces, hear their voices, and listen to their stories and banter. You hadn’t realized just how much it all meant to you until you almost lost it.

You glanced over at the man to your right. He had a smile on his face and was laughing at something Morgan had said. You felt your heart swell and you couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky you were. You had been given a chance at love and a second chance at life…there was no way you were going to waste it.

~Hotch’s POV~

I hadn’t seen Isabelle this happy in a long time. Hell, I hadn’t been this happy in a long time. Little did Izzy know, but I had another surprise for her.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Garcia got up to answer it. In walked Jessica and Jack.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not intruding,” Jessica said.

“Dad!” Jack yelled as soon as he saw me. He raced across the room and gave me a hug.

“Hey, buddy! I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He looked around and when his eyes landed on Isabelle, his face lit up. “Izzy!” he yelled excitedly.

He squirmed away from me and roughly sprang into Isabelle’s lap. She winced in pain and I went to take Jack, but she waved me off. She wrapped her arms around his small frame and held on tight. He snuggled in against her and relaxed. She smiled and kissed the top of his head.

“Hey, little man,” she murmured. “I missed you.”

He looked up at her and reached up to touch one of the bruises on her face. “You have a boo-boo.”

She chuckled. “I do, but I’ll be just fine. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve got you,” she said with a grin as she poked his tummy.

He giggled and squirmed.

Izzy inhaled sharply as she winced in pain again, but she didn’t let go of Jack.

I couldn’t help but feel an even bigger outpouring of love for this incredible woman. I knew I didn’t deserve her, but my son certainly did.

“Can I go play?” Jack asked Isabelle.

She looked up at me and I smiled. “Of course. Aunt Jessica brought some of your favorite toys.”

He slipped out of Isabelle’s lap and plopped on the floor in front of Jessica.

“Hey,” Isabelle said softly.

I looked over at her and smiled. “Hey yourself.”

“Would you mind helping me into bed?”

“Are you tired?” I was prepared to kick everyone out, but she shook her head.

“It’s just more comfortable.”

I nodded. “Of course, sweetheart.”

I scooped her up as gently as I could, but I heard her sharp intake of breath. I laid her down on the bed and she shifted to get comfortable. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I said, placing a kiss to her forehead.

The day continued on, as did the laughs. We were incredibly lucky, the people in this room. Not many people have what we do. And I’m the luckiest one of them all.

An hour or so later, Jack began yawning. Jessica offered to take him home, but he didn’t want to leave. “I wanna stay with Izzy.”

Isabelle smiled. “That’s fine with me. Come here, love.” She patted the bed beside her.

With my help, Jack climbed up into Isabelle’s bed and curled up in her arms. Within minutes he was sound asleep. I hadn’t seen him look so peaceful in a long time.

My heart was so full of love for this amazing woman that I thought it might burst. I couldn’t help but stare at her, falling even deeper in love with her as she held my son’s small body in her arms as he slept.

She looked up at me and I blushed. She smiled warmly and mouthed, ‘I love you.’

I grinned and mouthed, ‘I love you’ back.

I never thought that my life would ever be good again…but now, I could honestly say it was the best it had ever been.

**********2 Months Later

“My god it feels good to be home,” you exclaimed as you dropped onto your couch.

Hotch came in behind you, dragging your suitcase. “I imagine so.”

You turned towards him and saw him struggling with your suitcase and the door, and you laughed. “Let me help you.”

“I got it, I got it.”

“Aaron,” you said lightly.

He looked down at the suitcase wedged in the door, then looked at the crooked grin on your face. “Point taken,” he said with a laugh.

You unwedged the suitcase and closed the door as he dropped the rest of your belongings onto the table.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“You’re welcome, Izzy.” He turned to face you and you smiled warmly.

“What’s that look for?”

You grinned. There was only one thing on your mind. “I am ecstatic to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

He laughed. “Hospital beds aren’t comfortable?”

You playfully swatted his arm and he grinned. “The real question is,” you began, “are you gonna stay?”

His expression immediately changed. “Do you want me to?”

You pulled him closer to you. “You know I do.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. You stood on your toes to meet his lips. He deepened the kiss and you responded happily.

After a few moments, you pulled away and led him towards the bedroom. He followed you without hesitation. He shut the door and pushed you against it, kissing you with a hunger that drove you wild.

His lips trailed kisses down your neck, lightly crossing down to your collarbone. You breathed heavily and pulled him closer, wanting so desperately to feel him. You yanked on his shirt and he lifted his arms so you could take it off him.

You admired his toned body, running your hands up his torso, causing him to shiver. He stared at you intently and you pulled his face back down to yours. You felt his hand trailing up under your shirt, your body reacting to the feel of his hands on you.

Suddenly, he froze and took a step back.

“Aaron?”

He looked down at your stomach and you quickly realized what was wrong. “Hey,” you stepped closer to him. “I’m fine, babe.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Aaron,” you said firmly. “I have wanted this for three years. I am absolutely certain.”

He looked reassured, but he didn’t move toward you.

A look of hurt crossed your face. “Do you—do you not want me—” you asked softly, “—because I’m damaged? Scarred?”

His head snapped up and he stared at you in shock. “Isabelle, no. Shit—you’re absolutely perfect. I don’t care about the scars…I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you said as you pulled him towards you. “I trust you.”

His expression softened and he kissed you with renewed passion. Minutes later, you were both in nothing but your underwear.

He gently laid you on the bed and hovered over you, his eyes looking at you with such admiration that it made you blush.

After a few moments, he leaned down to kiss you, trailing kisses down to your soft breasts. He pulled you forward, unclasping your bra. You tossed it to the side as he pulled your nipple into his mouth. You let out a low moan and his eyes flicked up to yours.

He then moved down your stomach, placing kisses all over your skin. He gently kissed on top of your underwear before removing them. He began to kiss your inner thighs, your sweet lips, then back again.

You begged him for more and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he slipped his tongue between your folds and spread your legs as wide as they could go.

You barked out a loud moan as he began to lick and suck at your clit. His hands caressed your body and you shivered under his touch. Your hands tangled in his hair as you lifted your hips up toward his mouth.

You felt the pleasure mounting and your moans increased, urging him and begging him not to stop. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, waves of pleasure cascaded over you. He rode the waves with you, not stopping until you squirmed and gently pushed his head away.

He lifted up his head and grinned up at you. You smiled back as you tried to catch your breath. He watched you with a satisfied look, until you pulled him down to you and kissed him passionately.

You tugged at his boxers to free his erection and he groaned when you palmed it and began to stroke it slowly. You urged him to roll over and he responded quickly.

Within seconds you had his thick, hard length in your mouth and moans of pleasure escaped his lips. “Isabelle,” he groaned.

You made eye contact with him, maintaining it as you sucked his cock. His breathing became labored and his body shuddered in pleasure. He pushed your hair out of your face and watched you in ecstasy.

It didn’t take long before his orgasm began to build. You could feel the tightening of his muscles and his moans increased in intensity. You worked him harder and he groaned loudly.

“Oh god, Isabelle…yes!” he yelled as he shot his hot load into your throat. You swallowed every drop, continuing to play with his sensitive head until he begged you to stop.

You could see the blissful pleasure on his face and it made you smile. You moved to get up, but he grabbed you and rolled you over. “No, no. I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

You grinned and pulled him to you. As the passion increased again, you could feel his hard cock against your wet core. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted him inside of you until this moment. “Aaron, please…” you whispered.

He looked at you and smiled. “As you wish.”

He plunged into you and you cried out in pleasure, nails digging into his back. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through your body. You moved with him and found a rhythm that drove both of you wild.

“Izzy,” he moaned in your ear.

You smiled and wrapped your legs around him. You tightened your grip and rolled him over, managing to keep him inside of you. You sat up and put your hands on his chest. You started to ride him and he groaned in pleasure.

When he reached up to touch you, you pushed his hand away. “No touching.”

“But I—”

You put your finger to his lips. “Shh. Not yet.”

He watched you intently as you picked up your pace. You caressed your breasts as you moved, letting out a low moan of pleasure. He reached out to touch you and you pushed his hand away again. “Izzy,” he whimpered.

You simply shook your head and slid your hands down your body. He watched your every move, desire plain on his features. You let out a soft moan as your fingers touched your clit. You began to gently rub it in circular motions, all-the-while never stopping the gyration of your hips.

Hotch gripped the sheets to keep himself from touching you, but you could see his resolve begin to wane.

Moments later he said, “Let me touch you.”

You didn’t stop what you were doing, but in between moans, you asked, “How badly do you wanna touch me?”

His breathing was labored as he answered you. “More than anything.”

“Good.” You moaned louder as you picked up the pace. You could see that he was close to completely losing his composure and you loved it.

“Isabelle…please. I need to touch you.”

It was the please that got you. The look on his face and the desire in his voice took you to the edge. “Touch me, Aaron.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before his hands were on you. He cupped your breasts, ran his hands up your sides, and pulled you down to him. He kissed you deeply and held you close as he thrust up into you.

In one swift movement, he flipped you onto your back and pulled your legs up around his neck. He thrust into you with such passion that you nearly lost all self-control. You gripped the sheets and moaned loud enough to wake the dead, but you didn’t care.

“Oh god, Aaron. Don’t stop—please.”

He groaned and thrust even harder. You could feel your own orgasm building and you could tell by his labored breathing that he was close too.

“Cum for me, baby,” you murmured.

He locked eyes with you and his entire body shuddered as he came deep inside of you. He continued to thrust and you cried out as you orgasmed. You rode the waves of pleasure together and then he collapsed on top of you, both of you sated.

You ran your fingers through his messy black hair and smiled as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked in concern.

“Not at all.”

“Good, because I can’t move.”

You laughed and kissed the top of his head.

You stayed like that for several minutes before he had the strength to roll off you. He pulled you to him and you settled in next to him with your head on his chest.

“That was incredible,” he said softly.

You smiled. “Even better than I had imagined.”

“You imagined it?” he asked curiously.

“Of course I did! I’ve wanted you for quite some time, you know.”

“I never really let myself imagine what it would be like to be with you,” he said sadly. You looked up at him and he continued. “I never thought I could be with you…or that you would want to be with me, so I never let myself go there. I wouldn’t have been able to resist you if I had.”

You touched his face gently and smiled. “Well now you don’t have to imagine. You know exactly what it’s like to have me.”

He kissed your forehead and smiled. “In more ways than one.”

Just then a phone rang. Hotch looked at you sheepishly and you sighed. “I get it. Go answer it.”

He slipped out of the bed and pulled on his boxers before going to the kitchen to get his phone. You could hear his voice through the door. “Hotchner…yeah she’s home…she’s doing well…wait, what?” He paused as the person on the other end talked for a while. “They let him go?” he yelled angrily. “They can’t do that…what do you mean there’s no proof? Eye witness testimony doesn’t count?”

You were surprised and a little concerned by the anger in his voice. You got out of bed, threw on his t-shirt, and slipped into the kitchen. Hotch was standing with his back to you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and he was white-knuckling the countertop.

“That’s not good enough.” He dropped his voice, “How the hell am I supposed to tell Isabelle?”

“Tell me what?”

He turned around, clearly surprised to see you standing there. “Dave, I’ve gotta call you back.” He hung up and stared at you in silence.

“Aaron, what’s going on?”

“Iz, I think you should sit down.”

Concern lit up your features, but you sat on the nearest barstool. “Talk to me.”

Hotch took a deep breath and closed his eyes. You could tell he was trying to calm himself down, but that didn’t seem to be working.

“Hotch,” you said firmly.

That seemed to snap him out of it. “I’m sorry, baby. I just—I can’t believe this is happening.”

“And what exactly is ‘this’?”

“The AUSA has decided not to bring charges against Detective Brady. He’s been released.”

You sat in stunned silence for a moment. “How is that possible?”

“He said there’s no evidence and he’d never get a conviction at trial.”

“What? My word isn’t good enough?” you asked angrily.

“He said the conditions of your…experience…make you an unreliable witness.”

“Are you—are you kidding? He’s the reason I was tortured! Jacobs wouldn’t have known I was an FBI agent without him!”

Hotch nodded. “I know, baby. I know. I’m going to call in every favor I have. He can’t get away with this.”

“It looks like that’s exactly what he’s doing,” you whispered.

“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around you. “We’ll get him, Izzy. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I never do.”

You leaned into his embrace and tried not to cry. This man was the only thing keeping you from completely losing it. You held on tightly and so did he.

“I want you to move in with me,” he said suddenly.

You pulled back in shock. “What?”

“At least until this is over. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself.”

“Aaron…are you sure? I mean, that’s a big deal.”

“Not to me, it isn’t. I’m not going to lose you.”

You nodded. “Okay…if you’re sure.”

“Isabelle, I’m positive. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

“Well then I guess I better get packing,” you said softly.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #I can't lose you series

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rellik24 · 4 months

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Okay so I got another PJO post bc the show came out and I'm loving it. I do have one little itty bitty problem with it tho so imma just say it.

Spoilers ahead for anyone who didn't read the books btw

Okay so I know that she movies are a disgrace and the show is our saving grace but like... I just finished watching the 3rd episode and one thing really bothered me. The part where they're at Aunty Em's, they're talking about the furies and they're literally calling them out by name. Isn't it that in the books, Annabeth literally has to shut Percy up from saying "Fury" or any of their names or it would summon them or let them know their location.

Idk if it's just me kinda bothered by how big of a deal they made names in the books and they just throw the names around no problem in the show. I know it might just me being weird about some random minor detail but I never heard anyone mention "the kindly ones".

Now I haven't re-read the books yet but I plan to but I'm like 99% sure that names hold a lot of power in the demigod world and that's why all the monsters call Percy by his full name but in the movie they just call him Percy Jackson.

Idk why I'm so frustrated by this. I feel like it should be a thing bc I feel like the name thing is important in their world if they made it such a point in the books.

And yes I know that the show isn't the book and the book isn't the show buy I'm pretty sure even in all Greek myths, it's a thing that names hold power and idk. I feel like they should stick with real myths and can change only pjo specific canon that doesn't relate to the myths and stuff like "Oh Percy pulled out his sword" in the book and "Percy picked up a rock" in the show bc that has nothing to do with myths.

Sorry it's such a long rant.just needed to get that out of my system

#percy jackson #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

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wrxsslin-hours · 5 months

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Hey, Lover (Chapter 2)

prev |

Shawn gives Bret some company, a welcoming warmth in an otherwise cold afternoon.

(Quintessential Delivery Boy x Househusband bretshawn au)

a/n: I greatly underestimated the number of chapters for this fic-let. Maybe it'll stretch to five chapters instead of the planned three lol. Hope you enjoy! <3

You need a pick me up? I'll be there in twenty five. I like to push my luck so take my hand, let's take a drive - "Let's Fall in Love for the Night", FINNEAS

Bret wasn’t one to talk too much on the job, which is why delivery came easy for him. There was nothing but him, the rev of his truck, and the occasional car horn. He didn’t do phone calls or entertain customers with their over-the-top bouquet ideas. He only took the bouquet and got it to where it needed to be, and he could do it while saying ten words or less. It was a mundane job for most of his family, but Bret enjoyed the silence that was graced upon him. Owen would argue that Bret just couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life, and that would earn him a smack on the back of his head by Bret’s folded sunglasses.

In hindsight, Bret wasn’t much of a talker in general. He took his job seriously, wanting to help his parents look over the store with more ease. He’d trim off the thorns of roses and peel back tulip petals with not even a small smile on his face. He left all the babbling to his sisters, who were more than happy to take over when it meant getting the latest gossip of whoever passed behind the front store display window. But, to Bret’s surprise, talking with Shawn came naturally. Maybe it was because Shawn did most of the talking, and Bret would happily let him do it. The rasp of the blonde’s voice tickled Bret’s spine the first time he heard it, and it still does now. And Bret was sure it would always stay that way.

“You never told me your name, y’know,” Shawn started, lips in that pout that Bret knew him for. “If we gotta work together, we might as well be on a first-name basis. You already know my name. Is only fair.” Shawn talked a mile a minute. An exasperated sigh escaped Bret’s lips, and that made Shawn pout even harder.

“It’s Bret,” the delivery boy finally said, tying a string of pink silk around the base of a bouquet. The blonde hummed, “Bret, Bret, Breeeet,” he repeated, acting as if Bret’s name was some juicy secret that he alone had the pleasure to know. Bret had to duck his head down, cheeks tinted.

Shawn maneuvered his way beside Bret, pushing open the makeshift swinging door of the countertop with his hip. Bret could smell the other’s perfume. Shawn smelled like those scratch-and-sniff pages of Elizabeth’s makeup catalog magazines, expensive but subtle. He looked like the models on those pages too. His hair looked like silk, bouncing in all the right places at the right times and patted down by a cloth headband. A stubborn strand of hair dangled by Shawn’s forehead, and Bret had to push the idea of tucking it behind Shawn’s ear out of his head. If Bret squinted, he could hardly make out the faint shimmer of his lips.

Those lips stretched into a smile as Shawn reached over to grab a small bouquet of dahlias and cornflowers, the one that Bret just finished arranging. Blue eyes met brown ones, and Bret was suddenly awfully aware of how little the space between them was. The delivery boy took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Say, why don’t you tell ol’ Bradshaw that I want these flowers for the next bouquet this time?” Shawn asked, offering them to Bret.

The Hart grabbed the bouquet from Shawn’s grasp, “Why don’t you tell him yourself?” The blonde scoffed, waving his hand, which Bret realized was void of a wedding ring, “Hardly see him, let alone talk to him.” He picked at the rows of ribbons that hung from the wall, “Course, I wouldn’t mind getting ‘em from you instead.”

Bret ignored the man in favor of putting the bouquet back to where it was. “What flowers would your husband want for this party of his?” He asked, diverting the conversation elsewhere as he made his way to the ‘meeting room’, a storage room turned office for their far richer clients that didn’t want to stand around to discuss orders. It was a nice room, evident from the tiles that were way cleaner than those outside its door and the fact that it had the good air conditioning that didn’t rattle every few seconds. Bret could still remember the times his dad would shoo Owen away from the room for using the air conditioner during those summers that were hotter than usual.

With a pout, Shawn followed the delivery boy, stopping every few moments to glance at framed photos and flower arrangements. “It’s a soiree,” Shawn corrected, his voice imitating his husband’s strong Texan drawl, “not a party.” The blonde rolled his eyes and sat on the chair that Bret offered him with the grace of a sack of coal. “As long as it’s pretty, he wouldn’t care.”

Bret had the aching suspicion that Shawn wasn’t only talking about the flowers. The dark-haired man grabbed an assemblage of flowers, each bigger than the ones underneath them. “Peonies?” Bret asked, showing Shawn said flower. In his delight, Shawn took it and twirled the stem around between his fingers.

“Pretty, but too tiny.”

“Thought he wouldn’t care as long as it’s pretty?”

“Well, Peonies are like sippin' tea; husband dearest prefers a bold statement, like a good glass of whiskey." Bret snorted, “Sunflowers then?”

Shawn’s smile widened, “Those are my favorite. Daisies too.” The younger man leaned forward, his hair pooled to his shoulders and Bret could see the sliver of chest hair beyond Shawn’s shirt, “What other flowers have you got, Bret?”

Bret fought the urge to stare. He hoped the heat on his cheeks wasn’t too obvious. But from how Shawn’s smile quirked into a smirk, he doubted it. Bret averted his eyes to the window behind Shawn like his life depended on it. The sky was grey, and Bret already made the mental note to prepare the tin buckets for the leaks all over the shop. He unconsciously licked his lips, “Some asters, maybe baby’s breath too.”

“You seemed to have a good eye for this sort of stuff,” Shawn rested his chin on his open palm, “And you said you were just the delivery boy,” He teased. ‘Play it cool’ Bret thought to himself. He shrugged, “It’s just flowers.”

“You sell yourself short, Mr. delivery boy.” Shawn daintily placed his hand on Bret’s bicep, “I trust your business here can handle the floral decorations. It would mean a whole lot to me.” His voice dropped an octave, got slower, and Bret’s eyebrows jumped at the change. There’s that charge again, shot straight along his spine. Shawn knew how to play him like a fiddle, and Bret would let him if he didn’t know any better. His father’s instructions echoed in his mind, and it was enough for Bret to stand up abruptly.

Shawn chuckled at Bret’s expense. “I’m just joking around,” Shawn assured. Bret didn’t believe him. As they continued to discuss their arrangements, drops of rain drummed on the roof of the store. The room got colder, and Shawn shivered. Bret took notice, of course, he did, and the delivery boy wrapped up their discussion, much to Shawn’s disappointed pout. It was for the best, from the way Shawn would hide the clatter of his teeth and the fact that Bret didn’t see Shawn walk in with an umbrella. The older man watched the rain cascade down the display window, creating a mesmerizing tableau against the backdrop of a gradually darkening day. Shawn joined him.

“Mind if I borrow your telephone?” Shawn asked with a frown, gently bumping against Bret. He let him. As Shawn turned away, his back now facing Bret, he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder. The room, hushed by the falling rain outside, seemed to amplify the low murmur of Shawn's conversation. The delivery boy, rooted by curiosity, found himself eavesdropping. Bret subtly turned his ear to where Shawn was hovering and listened. Bret could hear Shawn’s frustrated sigh. There was a murmur. A long silence followed.

Bret felt like he was twelve again, trying to listen in on his parents' whispers between themselves during the late hours of the night. With the rattle of the telephone and Shawn’s frustrated and hushed curses, Bret went to the farthest corner of the room and pretended not to notice his customer’s sudden sour temperament. The room grew colder, and Shawn’s silence didn’t help warm up the atmosphere at all. Bret found it odd to have Shawn around him, but instead of being met with his constant banter, there was nothing.

“What’s up?” Bret asked, a sorry attempt to lighten the mood. Shawn’s head shot in Bret’s direction; the fog that seemed to be entangled in Shawn’s mind cleared at the sound of the other’s voice. The blonde forced a smile and walked up to the other man, “Silly me forgot to bring an umbrella. You wouldn’t mind if I stay here ‘til the rain clears up, right?” That was an obvious lie, Bret was sure of it. But he saved Shawn the effort of explaining himself more by shaking his head, “Don’t mind at all.” Bret watched the other man hover around a stool before he sat on it. He pursed his lips as Shawn combed his fingers through his hair. Bret refrained from saying anything else, unsure of how to handle the situation. In true Bret fashion, he decided to keep his hands busy by burying himself in arranging flower bouquets behind the counter. He braced for a question from Shawn, a snide comment, a joke, anything. But it never came.

Bret stole a glance at the other man, and the warmth in Shawn’s skin seemed to fade with the blue sky. He was somber, eyes staring into a spot on the tiled floor that seemed only he can see. The awkwardness hung in the air like an unspoken question, and Bret couldn't stand seeing Shawn so visibly distressed. “You know,” Bret began, trying to fill the void, “I've got a delivery scheduled in the neighborhood. If you're up for it, you could join me. Might pass the time quicker," Bret hesitated for a second, "Plus, I could use the company."

Shawn glanced up, surprise flickering in his eyes, and then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Bret waved off the concern. “No imposition at all. Besides, it's better than waiting here. What do you say?”

Shawn considered for a brief period, the weight of the previous conversation lingering. “I'd like that.”

Bret nodded, pleased to see the light filter back into Shawn's eyes. “Great. Let me grab the flowers, and we can head out together. Maybe by the time we're done, the rain will have let up, and I can drive you home.”

As Bret gathered a vibrant assortment of flowers, Shawn stood up from the stool, a newfound pop in his step. Bret handed him a smaller bouquet, a mix of daisies and sunflowers, the colors popping against the grayness outside. Shawn buried his nose into the flowers before he turned to Bret, who grabbed his larger pile of bouquets to carry on one hand and his clipboard on the other, “Can I have these for myself?” The delivery boy struggled to open the store’s front door for Shawn, “Don’t even think about it.” Shawn lightly picked on the leaves of the flowers in his arms, straightening out its petals. “If ever Bradshaw comes back to bother you guys for another order, make sure I get flowers like these, alright?” Bret placed the clipboard on top of Shawn’s head, a makeshift umbrella, protecting him from the rain as they shuffled to the delivery truck, “I’ll see what I can do.”

They reached Bret's truck, raindrops dancing on its roof like a lively rhythm. Bret opened the passenger door for Shawn, who gingerly settled into the seat, careful not to crush the vibrant blooms in his arms. Bret, with practiced ease, placed the bouquets in the back, securing them for the journey. The engine roared to life, and the truck pulled away, tires slicing through the drenched streets. Inside the truck, the air was thick with the heady fragrance of flowers, a stark contrast to the cool, damp world outside. Shawn tapped on the little bobble head eternally glued to the dashboard. To Shawn’s surprise, the vehicle was well-kept. The only thing that littered its floors were leaves and the occasional pen that rolled into corners that were too far for Bret to reach. The blonde watched his reflection on the cracked rearview mirror.

“You ever get lonely doing this, Bret?” Shawn asked abruptly. Bret glanced at Shawn, a thoughtful expression on his face. The rhythm of the rain on the roof seemed to slow for a moment. “Yeah, sometimes. It's a quiet job, you know? But the flowers keep me company. And now, I've got you for some company too.” Shawn traced the delicate petals of the flowers in his hands. “Lucky flowers.” Bret chuckled, the sound blending with the hum of the engine. “They're not the only lucky ones today.” Bret missed the light blush on Shawn’s cheeks, eyes focused on the empty street before them. Shawn turned to Bret, a soft smile playing on his lips. The truck rumbled along, carrying the weight of the flowers and the shared warmth of the two men amidst the rain.

The rest of the trip went smoothly. For the first time in a long while, Bret found himself preferring the ramble of Shawn’s words over the silence he had grown accustomed to in his delivery truck. They started with Bret handling the deliveries while Shawn stayed in the shelter of the vehicle. However, after Shawn’s whiny pleas, reminiscent of a child begging their mother for an extra candy bar before bed, Bret relented and allowed the other man to accompany him to the front doors of the bouquets’ intended recipients.

Observing Shawn’s overly enthused smile and how he couldn’t seem to keep himself still for more than a few seconds, Bret deduced that Shawn didn’t go out much. Perhaps Shawn lacked companionship, or maybe he didn’t have anyone to go out with. Bret surmised as much, given how little his husband shared about Shawn’s favorite flowers – assuming he even knew them in the first place.

Bret heard a rustle beside him as Shawn shifted his weight and turned his body toward him, the seatbelt around him stretched by his hips. The blonde leaned his head on the pillow of the headrest and stared at Bret, “You got a girl?”

“Why do you ask?”

"I think you do. Giving her flowers every day, you must be making her the happiest girl in the world,” Shawn murmured, his eyes distant. There was a softness in his voice that made Bret’s shoulders relax, a hint of longing underneath his tone. Bret quietly laughed, “No girl.” He paused for a moment, “No man either.”

Shawn's gaze lingered, searching Bret's eyes for something, and then he nodded thoughtfully. The scene outside the truck windows slowly faded from apartment homes to the mansions and tree-lined streets of the affluent neighborhood Shawn had learned to tolerate. The blonde noticed the familiar moss-covered dog statue in the middle of a roundabout, and he knew home, if he could call it that, was getting closer. He sank further into his seat.

“You remember where I live?” Shawn asked, hoping the question would make Bret ease the pressure on the gas pedal

“Hard to forget when the last time I was here was the first time I ever was.”

Bret wished he had more deliveries to do, if it meant spending more time with the man beside him. He couldn't deny the warmth that had crept into the cab of the delivery truck. Yet, a nagging realization tugged at the edges of his consciousness – an awareness that it was foolish to wish for something more, especially knowing the other man was married. The truck slowed as they reached Shawn's lavish residence, a sprawling mansion with towering pillars and perfectly manicured gardens. It was the same as Bret first saw it. The truck halted in front of the mansion’s iron gates. Bret couldn't help but glance at Shawn, whose gaze seemed distant, lost in contemplation.

The silence between them stretched on, and neither of them wanted to interrupt it. But as the rain cleared up, Shawn spoke up. “Thanks for the ride, Bret.” Bret nodded, a smile on his lips that didn’t quite match the light of his eyes. “Thanks for helping.” Shawn lingered for a moment, his hand on the door handle, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. Bret wondered if there was more left unsaid, an unspoken connection lingering in the air. But before he could delve into those uncharted waters, Shawn opened the door and stepped out into the now-refreshed air.

The iron gates creaked open, granting access to the grandeur that lay beyond. Bret watched as Shawn's figure receded, gradually disappearing into the opulent embrace of the mansion. The contrast between their worlds became even more palpable, and a sense of distance settled in Bret's chest. In the quiet aftermath, Bret's eyes fell upon the passenger seat, where the blonde had been just seconds ago. A lone daisy, vibrant and defiant, caught his attention. It had escaped from the bouquet that Shawn had clutched during the ride.

A tender smile tugged at Bret's lips as he reached for the stray daisy, its petals seemingly untouched by the rain. The delivery boy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, and he bit his bottom lip. He had to do something; he would regret it after he’s done it, but Bret couldn’t imagine what it would mean if he didn’t follow his gut. Feeling a surge of determination, Bret rolled down the window, the rain-kissed breeze slipping into the cab of the truck.

"Shawn!" Bret called out, the word carrying a gentle urgency. He spotted Shawn turning around, surprise flickering in his eyes as he approached the truck. Bret extended the stray daisy toward Shawn, a silent offering that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. "For you," Bret said, his voice carrying a warmth that pooled in Shawn’s heart and dripped to his stomach.

Shawn's eyes widened in realization, a genuine smile breaking across his face. He accepted the stray daisy, fingers brushing against Bret's as the small flower exchanged hands. The shower of rain had left a subtle sheen on Shawn's hair, and droplets clung to the edges of the daisy's petals.

"Thanks, Bret," Shawn said, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the lingering echoes of the rain.

#shawn michaels #bret hart #shawn michaels x bret hart #wwe fanfiction #bretshawn #hartbreak #wwe headcanons #wwe fanfic #writing

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