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spenceobsessed · 2 months

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post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.

MDNI 18+

“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.

the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.

you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.

“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.

“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.

“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.

“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.

“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.

emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.

“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.

“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.

“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.

“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.

“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”

spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”

you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.

jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.

your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.

“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.

“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.

that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.

you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.

“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.

reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.

“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.

“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.

“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.

you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.

you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”

he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.

“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.

the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.

“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”

“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.

you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”

the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.

you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.

“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.

as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.

“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.

you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.

“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.

“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.

he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.

you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.

"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.

"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.

"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there

spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.

"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.

as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.

"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i need you to kiss me, spencer."

the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.

you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.

spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.

spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.

you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.

"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.

“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.

“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.

“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.

“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.

as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.

he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”

you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.

“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.

“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.

he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.

a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.

he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”

he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.

hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.

unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.

he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.

you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.

he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.

you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.

“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.

you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.

“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.

“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.

“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.

you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.

“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.

“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.

however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.

"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.

after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.

"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.

"yes, please."

part 2 :)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #bau #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fandom #part one #smut #enemies to lovers #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spenceobsessed

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headkiss · 10 months

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I feel like I’m in withdrawal from ur Hotch stories!! I would love some sort of blurb w protective Hotch and BAU reader if ur taking requests for him!! Any scenario I honestly don’t even care I just love hurt/comfort w my guy

babe!!! not withdrawal!!!! thank u so much for requesting <3 i hope u like it | 0.7k fluff, teeny mention of blood

Hotch tries to stay calm on the job. He has to, really, to be as successful as he is. It’s hard with the things he sees, the things he hears. Even harder when you’re about to go and do something dangerous when he’s not there to help.

You’re the only one at the scene right now, and even though he’s trying to convince you not to, you’re about to go inside and catch the guy.

“We aren’t far,” he tells you.

“I know,” there’s a shout in the background, and his heart sinks ‘cause he knows what that means. “I gotta go in.”

Hotch utters your last name, concern, something like desperation buried under his firm tone.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, and then you’re hanging up.

“Garcia,” Hotch knows she’s on the other line, and he knows she’ll find him a shortcut without instruction because she’s great at her job and even better at knowing what people need.

“I’m on it,” she tells him, and then she’s rattling off turns to make through alleys to get to you quicker.

The unknown is the worst part, Hotch thinks. If he was there, at least he could be sure that you’re alright. He doesn’t doubt your skills, not for a second, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t seem to think so rationally. All he feels is the pounding in his chest that won’t slow until he knows you’re okay.

By the time he makes it, there are cop cars outside, flashes of blue and red paint the dark street where everyone’s parked. His tires screech to a stop, and he leaves the car parked and running when he gets out. There’s a cop pushing the guy into the car, another nodding at Hotch as he walks by.

And finally, finally there’s you, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bandage on your forehead.

He all but runs over, his hands finding your jaw to tilt your face up towards him in a way that certainly isn’t professional but he isn’t really worried about that right now. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t even need stitches,” you tell him.

“You’re bleeding.”

You sort of melt at his worry, at the almost unnoticeable shine in his eyes that you only see because you’re looking so closely. Hotch doesn’t have to say it with words, because it’s written all over him, the delicate hold he has on your jaw, the way his thumb draws a small pattern over your skin. Back and forth, back and forth. He cares about you.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you say again, because he’s still looking at the bandage on your head with a furrow in his brows.

“You should have waited.” He doesn’t mean it, but he still says it. He knows this is the job, he knows it was the right call, but he should’ve been there.

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I know.”

His eyes still won’t meet yours, so you grab one of his wrists in your hand, squeezing it once, twice, three times.

“Aaron,” your voice saying his name is enough, Hotch’s eyes flick down and lock on yours, “I’m okay. No stitches, no concussion, just a little cut, alright?”

His fingers are still on your skin, calluses trailing down your neck until his hands are on your shoulders. There’s a trail of warmth that follows his touch, your eyes fluttering, your breath slowing.

He nods, “you’re okay.” It’s so quiet that he’s saying it to himself, even though you catch it. He repeats it, “you’re okay.”

Neither of you are thinking about the fact that you’re in public, that the team is probably watching you both and sharing looks with each other because they can see the feelings you and Hotch both have for each other clear as day. They are profilers, after all.

Hotch is only focused on you, and you’re focused on him and his hands and the sort of affection that’s rare from him, but speaks enough volumes to last a long, long time.

“I got the guy, didn’t I?” You say, trying to lighten the mood despite the circumstances.

“You did good,” he tells you, and the praise has something soaring in your chest.

You shrug, shoulders moving under his hands. “I learned from the best.”

And when you’re back on the plane, your head resting on Aaron’s shoulder where you’d fallen asleep, he doesn’t care one bit about the smirks he’s getting from the team.

He simply shakes his head at them, fighting a smile as he turns back to his paperwork.

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saelique · 2 months

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not even titling dis cause I have no idea what I just wrote

strangers to friends with dazai osamu !! ft. atsushi !! reader works in a cafe <3 fem reader <33 NOT PROOFREAD cause m rlly lazy

that one weird guy you see on your way to your workplace when you’re driving your car was handsome up close. scarily and dangerously handsome.

damn. his short brown eyes and hair with a tall figure was enough to beg for his number. if you didn’t have self control, that is !

thankfully, your first impression of him was enough to keep you from asking his hand in marriage ! after all, who would want to get with a guy who jumps down a bridge in a attempt to commit suicide and does it everyday ?

“my name is dazai osamu, nice to meet you.”

oh god. even his voice is hot. really, you’re trying hard to focus at what he and his companion are saying and not to stare at his perfect face.

“so I see, uh- would you like to come in and inspect then ?” you managed to get the words out, smiling and opening the door to the cafe youre currently working in.

”of course ! thank you miss !” a young boy next to him bowed a bit. he was dressed weirdly as well. what’s his name again . . . ? atsushi nakajima, was it ? eh. it was fine, wasn’t like you’re gonna meet them again.

atsushi entered the cafe while dazai stood behind, clearly you didn’t know what he wanted to do so you opened the door a bit more. “mr. dazai ? would you like to come in ?”

“I was just thinking,” he leaned towards you, causing you to lean back, “would a beautiful lady like you commit double suicide with me-“ “dazai ! let’s just start the mission like the president said !” atsushi came back, quickly taking the arm of dazai. “sorry about that, he’s just . . .” “no, no, it’s okay. I understand.”

you didn’t.

they ended up leaving a bit later, dazai handing you a slip of paper with a contact on it. “you didn’t give me your answer, so ! call me if you would like to die together ~”

you accepted it with a awkward smile and a nod, clearly not knowing what to do. a part of you wanted to throw it away, but that one voice told you to keep it and call him. definitely not cause your love life is failing terribly like his suicide attempts !!!

you ended up following your impulsive thoughts.

you gulped when he answered your call. “hello ? who’s this ?” “uh- hello ? this is-“ “oh ! you’re that cafe lady ealier ! are you going to accept my proposal to die together ?” he sang, you heard the sounds of a tv and sheets rustling in the background as he shifted from his former laying position to a new, more comfortable one.

“I was just about to ask if you’re getting professional help.” shit. were you wrong though ? i mean- someone who attempts suicide can’t be mentally sane right ?

silence on the end of the call. you were just about to hang up from embarrassment before you heard him speak again. “nope ! are you gonna look one for me though ? professional help is really expensive and I can’t pay for luxuries like that.” “I literally work in a cafe. it’s minimum wage. you work as a detective. aren’t you supposed to receive much, much more ?” you scoffed, despite the conversation you were having, you had to admit that talking with him was . . . amusing, to say the least. fun, even.

“well, you can be my therapist. are you good at listening to people ? since you’re the one who suggested it after all ! okay ! let’s meet at your cafe ! I’ll arrive at six !” “wait I’m not-“ “see ya !” “. . . he hung up . . . “ you muttered to yourself in defeat.

oh well, his story can’t be that bad, right ?

he didn’t tell you anything in the end, only talking about his cases and about his fellow coworkers. it was entertaining though, you undoubtedly felt bad for atsushi and that guy he called kunikida.

“dazai ? it’s time for me to pack up and go, it’s like- nine now.” you got up from your chair, ready to escort him out. “really ? awh, I was having so much fun.” he whined, but got up from his chair all the same. “I’ll be back tomorrow ! see you belladonna !”

”see you.”

you waved, and closed the door to clean the cafe as you promised your boss. hmph. tomorrow huh ? you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling but failed horribly.

“see you tomorrow, dazai.” you said to yourself, looking out the window to watch him head back to his apartment.

you should really stop falling for mentally unstable men.

#EWWWW #DIS IS BAD #AGHHHHHH #GONNA GO KMS #SJJDJSKSKS #౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 📔 : novels !#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd x fem eeader #Bsd x reader fluff #fluff

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boldlyvoid · 8 months

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I Know Places: Roadkill

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: Once again, Aaron puts himself in harm's way. Once again, reader scolds him for it. Bickering like an old married couple in front of the whole team, it becomes glaringly obvious that they're more than just coworkers now.

Warnings: background Moreid, Canon Typical Violence (mentions of possible rape, car accidents, hit and runs, murder) angst with a happy ending, arguing, worrying, makeup sex (first time together) teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies.

Word count: 14.9k

Not much changes between them at work. They’re still acting as professionally as possible, only now with longing stares all across the country and only one bed during their hotel stays.

In the last few weeks, they’ve had 4 cases. Each has gone by as smoothly as possible, without accidents or escapes or injuries. And Aaron’s stopped obsessing over Foyet, for the most part. He still reads the files when he has free time and he asks Penelope to add new perimeters to her searches, but other than that, he’s taken a bit of the weight off his shoulders to share with the rest of the team when the time comes.

Everyone knows they’ve just not filed the paperwork because it’s a hassle and Strauss, their section Chief would find some way to make it a problem. She’ll find out eventually, but until then, they’re just going with the flow, experiencing life together as a happy couple as long as they can.

He hasn’t told Haley yet, either. Seeing as she doesn’t want to admit that Conrad— her “friend” who’s always over during pick up and drop offs with Jack— is actually her boyfriend, they don’t have to tell her that they’re anything more than friends either. Jack likes Y/N, he holds her hand at the park and always asks if she can stay for a sleepover when he’s spending the night at his dad's. It’s the sweetest thing.

Every morning that they’re in Quantico, they meet at the round table at 10 am to prep new cases. They come in to work together at 8:30, holding hands while carrying coffee in their other. When they get up to Aaron’s office, JJ is in there with a file and an awkward, press-lipped smile on her face.

“What’s up?” He asks, letting go of her hand and walking over to his desk.

“Police in Bend, Oregon have asked for our help… this unsub is running people over with his car, there’s been two victims in the last 12 days,” she explains.

“Okay, I’ll look over the file and we’ll meet in the briefing room early today, tell the others 9:30 at the latest,” Hotch orders.

“Got it,” she picks up her things and starts to leave. She pats Y/N on the arm with a knowing smile, “See you out there.”

“You certainly will,” she smiles back at her. “Actually, I’m going to go help her photocopy everything and get ready, I’ll see you in there?”

“Okay,” Aaron nods. “Save me a seat.”

“Beside me as always,” she teases him one last time before heading out.

She’s so cute, he just shakes his head, watching from the window as she skips down a couple of steps and heads over to her desk. She says hi to Anderson and waves at a few people before following JJ up to the briefing room to make photocopies. He is so in love with her it makes him feel a little crazy. He has work to do, but his mind is stuck on her. He’s happy. At his desk. He's... happy?

For the first time in his life, he’s happy while at work.

And everyone knows it too. He’s staying at work less, still keeping up with his paperwork somehow, coming in a little later in the mornings, and he’s smiling more often. He’s heard the rumours and the mumblings, he knows people think he’s like this cause he’s getting laid again… but the truth is they haven’t.

He sleeps at her house, she sleeps at his, they sleep in the same bed on cases and they’ve come close to it before, but they haven’t had sex yet. Neither one of them has brought it up yet.

The first week they were together, they were busy on a case. The second week they had a pretty gross case and neither one of them was in the mood after it and then he had Jack all weekend. Then last week, she was on her period and he was happy to dote on her and give her a massage and cover her in kisses before sleeping beside her and holding her close but not too tight. He loves her so much, this relationship is so much more than just physical… he’s only had sex with 1 woman in his whole life, and even then, it took them over a year to do it because they were in high school.

This is just what he’s used to. He’ll be ready whenever she asks, he doesn’t need it… does he crave it? A little. She’s beautiful. He has to see her in action with her shirt rolled up and her bulletproof vest on. He sees her manhandle creeps and cuff them, sometimes even fight them a little. He listens to her give orders and put people in their place. Of course, he wants her. But he knows how to wait. He’s a patient man.

He has to shake all the thoughts out of his mind before he cracks open the case file. He takes another sip of his coffee and starts to read over the police report. He looks at the photos, the coroner's report, the witness statements and everything else JJ thought was important to include.

This is a weird one. He’s never seen a serial killer who favours vehicular homicide. Most of them want to do the killing themselves, they want to use their hands and feel the glory. This guy might not even be a guy. It could be a woman, using a vehicle might give her the power she lacks. The way they’ve been hit, backed over and hit again… that’s anger that comes from planning and a desire to kill. It’s unlikely that these are just victims of happenstance, this killer is calculated and these women that died were chosen for a reason.

He gathers all his things and meets the others in the briefing room, Derek, Spencer and Dave have yet to show up but they’ll be in soon. Right now, it’s just the girls.

“And then— oh, sorry, sir,” Penelope stops whatever she was saying as she sees him.

“On, no, it’s okay. You can keep talking… unless you don’t want me to know?” He hesitates to sit down, he’d leave if they needed him to.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighs. “Kevin is interviewing with the NSA for a new job and he can’t even tell me where he’s going if he gets it.”

“I’m sorry,” he feels terrible for her. Long distance sucks. But he sits down, ready to listen, wanting to be there for her and offer some wisdom if she wants it.

“I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen. What if he never comes home? What if I can’t talk to him? What if he breaks up with me right before he goes and then I never hear from him again? I’m not ready to just lose someone in my life permanently.”

“You’re Penelope Garcia,” he reminds her. “You can easily find out where he’s going… and you can easily stop transfers from going through, remember you held mine up so I could stay here?”

She nods, “I still feel sorry about that, sir, I didn’t mean to start things with you at home.”

“It’s okay, I’m much happier now,” he smiles over to Y/N. “I wouldn’t have my beautiful girlfriend if I still had a wife.”

“Very funny,” Y/N can’t believe he said that. She laughs and shakes her head, she licks her lips and laughs again. “You really just said that?”

“And I mean it,” he teases, reaching over for her hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses her hand, making the other two women swoon a bit.

“Hotch, I had no idea you were a romantic,” JJ teases him. “Were you always like this?”

He shrugs, “I was a teenager the last time I was in love like this.”

“In love?” They hear Derek's voice as he and Reid come through the door. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Y/N waves it off, trying desperately not to be the centre of attention. “We’re just talking about our relationships, anything you two want to share?”

“no—“ Derek starts but Spencer sits beside her and smiles.

“Derek’s never not been the sharing type and then he started dating me and now he’s like Fort Knox about it all,” Spencer teases.

“Hey,” Derek sits beside him and swats his arm. “It’s because I love you, you’re not some rando who came home with me once.”

“And what an honour that is,” Spencer teases again.

Derek’s just about to say something when they hear the whistling. Dave comes in with his coffee and the remnants of a lipstick stain on his cheek and sits down in the only empty spot left. “What’ve we got today?”

Everyone shares a few looks and knowing smiles, but Aaron answers. “A weird one in Bend, Oregon.”

“An unsub who kills with his car,” Y/N adds.

“They’ve had two victims in the last 12 days,” Hotch explains while they all open their files and have a look.

JJ stands, holding the remote for the projector, She starts to show them their victims. 23-year-old Maria Delgado was stuck while out on a jog and the second, a stranded motorist, Shannon Makely, 43.

“What makes the locals think that they were connected?” Derek asks.

“For one thing, they were both backed over after the initial impact,” JJ explains, showing them the photos again which makes Penelope shield her eyes.

“No accident there,” Dave grumbles, cheerful mood already gone.

“Plus, the treads found at both scenes match. Large vehicle, all-terrain,” Aaron adds but doesn’t cover all of it.

JJ moves to more photos on the screen, the ME report as well, “Wounds also indicate a raised bumper, so they’re thinking a large SUV or a truck.”

“Do they know the model or make?” Spencer asks.

She shakes her head, “Tyres aren’t factory issues. They could be on a number of different vehicles.”

“And no witness at either incident?” Y/N asks, flipping through the file, not finding anything.

“No, just the unlucky people who came across the bodies after it had already happened,” JJ sighs.

“A hit-and-run is loud, usually they draw attention. Somebody usually sees something,” Rossi says, posing the question they’re all thinking. How did no one see it happen?

“Both victims were attacked in secluded areas,” JJ explains further.

“Two tones of metal make a hell of a weapon,” Derek says with a shake of his head, disgusted by the lengths these killers go through.

“Serial killers have been known to become rather attached to their vehicles,” Spencer throws in. “Bittaker and Norris even gave theirs a nickname—

“murder Mack,” Rossi finishes for him.

“Bittaker and Norris were sexual sadists. There’s no sign of torture here,” Hotch reminds them.

“Sounds like a thrill kill?” Y/N proposes. “Opportunistic.”

“Easy targets, randomly selected,” Dave agrees.

“With this type of impact, vehicles shouldn’t be hard to pick out from a lineup,” Derek concludes.

“Yeah, there should be significant front-end damage,” Spencer backs him up.

“Somehow I don’t think this is gonna be that easy,” Dave says, closing his file.

“I contacted the pilot already, the jet is ready whenever we are,” JJ informs them, closing down the screen as they all get ready to go.

“Wheels up in 20.”

—

“I think it's safe to assume this unsub is a male,” Y/N says as soon as the conversation picks back up on the plane.

“I agree with you, given what we know,” Hotch nods, reading over the file again. “At first I thought maybe it could be a woman, using a car to feel powerful but with the amount of road rage and aggression we see in men, it’s less likely it would be a woman doing this.”

“It’s also just too messy,” Spencer adds for good measure.

“Exactly.”

“And men have an unnatural bond with their cars,” Y/N jokingly reminds everyone.

“That is true,” JJ gets it.

“Wait a minute, I don't know about unnatural?” Derek feels offended.

“I once dated a guy who washed his car more than he washed his hair,” JJ stares him down until he gives in.

“A nice car needs love,” Rossi pipes up. Derek points at him cause he gets it.

“And a woman doesn’t?” JJ just blinks, not believing what she’s hearing.

“I’m not qualified to answer that,” Rossi teases, making them all laugh.

“I’m just saying, big car… that’s phallic?” Y/N shrugs, looking at Aaron.

“So he’s compensating?” Aaron poses.

“Or overcompensating,” Spencer corrects.

“Impotent?” Derek suggests.

“Possibly, i-if the unsub sees himself as physically defective the car not only gives him the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield,” Spencer further explains.

“A way to avoid physical contact?” Hotch asks.

“Power and control,” Y/N starts to put the pieces together out loud. “Female victims… that almost reads like a rape profile.”

“Vehicular rape,” Rossi says, taken aback by the mere thought.

“Rape and thrill kill are two very different profiles,” Derek reminds them.

“What does victimology tell us?” Hotch asks.

“Nothing yet,” JJ shrugs, filling through the pages in her file but coming up short. “Shannon Makely was a white, married, 43-year-old commodities trader and Maria Delgado was a 23-year-old Hispanic graduate student and competitive triathlete.”

“So far gender is our only link,” Hotch agrees. “Hopefully the crime scenes will tell us more… when we get there, Morgan and Rossi you can go to the Makely crime scene. Y/N and I will go to Delgados and then Reid, you and JJ can hit up the ME and then head to the station to set up the boards.”

“Why do you two get to do everything together?” Spencer whines.

“Because you’re the doctor, you need to go and pick out shit the coroner missed and Derek is the best at retracing steps, no offence Rossi,” Y/N answers on Aaron’s behalf.

“None taken. Out of all of you, Derek reminds me the most of what me and Gideon were like in the beginning,” Dave gives him a small smile.

“He was a great teacher,” Derek says. “But it’s fine, we’re still partnered up in the hotels, right?”

“Yep,” JJ tries not to smile. “I’ve got you guys in a room with just one queen, down the hall from the rest of us, too.”

The rest of them smirk too, while Y/N and Aaron haven’t even bothered to get sexual yet, those two weren’t hiding anything. Between strange noises in the middle of the night and the rhythmic knocking of a bed frame on shared walls… it was pretty obvious that the good doctor and Derek Morgan were having a lot of fun together.

—

When they touch down, they separate into 3 SUVs on the tarmac and make their way from the small local airport 3 towns over all the way to Bend. Aaron and Y/N get a call from one of the local cops, Detective Feder, who is going to meet them at the jogging trail and walk them through everything. The main detective, Quinn, is with Rossi and Morgan at the most recent crime scene.

It’ll take them about 45 minutes to get there, though the winding country roads on this side of the country are nice, so it’s no big deal. The trees make for nice shade and the shade brings a cool breeze too, when just one state south they’d be in the disgusting heat of California. They have the windows down, the music on low, Aaron holds her hand as he drives and she looks out the window at the scenery. It’s a nice break from the horrors of their job.

When they arrive, the cop is leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting. He gives them a tight-lipped smile when they pull up, parking right behind him, they get out at the same time.

“Hey,” the cop waves. “Detective Feder, nice to meet you.”

He shakes Aarons hand first, “Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N.”

“Hi,” she smiles while shaking his hand. “Hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Nah, I just pulled up not 5 minutes ago,” he waves it off. “Follow me,” he says, leading them behind his squad car and towards the trail. “It’s not a very popular jogging area. There aren’t too many people who can take that hill coming up here.”

“Well, she was a triathlete,” Y/N reminds him.

“We figured she jogged in off the main road, headed for the trail up here,” he points to the side. When he gets to the bloody spot on the concrete he stops. “The assailant drove in behind her, and ran her down right here.”

“Uh… a woman jogging alone, no… she would’ve known if someone was tailing her,” Y/N states, speaking from a woman’s point of view, she knows what it's like to be on high alert at all times.

“So maybe he was already here?” Aaron proposes. Looking around, there’s a big red garbage bin that’s been dropped off and what looks to be construction equipment set up behind a fence. “What’s the story with all this equipment?”

“Construction stalled out months ago, no reason for anyone to be up here,” Feder explains.

Aaron keeps walking, behind the garbage bin, “it’s nice and quiet. It's the ideal spot to wait to run somebody down without being seen.”

“A little convenient,” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Too convenient,” Aaron agrees. “What if it was her? What if she were the reason he was up here?”

“You don’t think this was a random attack?” Y/N’s almost shocked to hear him say that.

He shakes his head and kneels down to look at the dirt, “oil,” he points, pressing his finger into the darkened wet patch and showing them. “He was lying in wait.”

“Shit,” Feder sighs, he can’t believe they missed these signs. “Okay. We should regroup at the station.”

“We’ll call our guys,” Y/N says, going to take out her phone. “On second thought… there’s no service.”

“Yeah most of the county has terrible service,” Feder shrugs. “I’ll radio it in for you, Quinn should get it.”

“Thanks," Aaron gives him a small smile and then motions with his head towards their car to get Y/N to follow.

—

“He may have specifically targeted these women,” Hotch proposes to the others as soon as he sits down at the table.

Y/N and JJ were off talking to family, Derek was on a coffee run, leaving him with the lead detective, Spencer and Dave.

“That takes thrill-kill off the table,” Rossi sits back, wanting to hear everything hotch learned at the first crime scene. Cause that’s how they worked best, going backwards.

“Because the murders were planned in advance?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer hesitates, looking at his board with everything he’s mapped out so far. “This type of stalking behaviour indicates a personal motive. There’s a reason he chose these victims.”

“So you think he knows them?” Quinn follows up, wanting to get a look inside the genius' brain. That’s exactly why he called them in for this with only two murders and not the typical 3 killings that would garner their attention.

“Well, he knew their work schedules, jogging routes, drive patterns,” Hotch points out.

“That would explain how he knew where to strike,” Spencer adds.

“Explains the Delgado girl, she was on a run, but he could’ve known Shannon Makely’s car was gonna break down out there?” Quinn says, having a hard time thinking outside the box, unlike the rest of them.

“Did you look at her car?” Rossi asks.

“Guys at impound said that it was a water pump that blew, said it’s a common enough problem,” Quinn explains.

“Maybe we should take a closer look?” Rossi suggests.

“Why don’t you head over there?” Aaron agrees, sending the best man for that job. Dave was a car guy, he had fixed up countless classics, and he’d know how to talk shop better than the rest of them. “Let me know what you find.”

Right as Dave starts to stand up, Y/N comes rushing over to the table, “Shannon Makely’s husband is here.”

Hotch had requested to talk to him when he arrived, he had questions to ask and hearing them from another man might make it go by easier. Whereas the mother of Maria Delgado would’ve done better with the girls, that’s why he had them speak to her first.

“Okay, thanks,” he starts to stand, “you want to join us?” He asks Detective Quinn.

He nods, standing with him. They all head into an office, Mr. Makely is already in there waiting for them, his eyes puffy and red, he’s been crying. Probably a lot. That was a given. Aaron’s not sure how he’d react if his wife— ex-wife died. Even after everything they’ve been through, he’d probably be devastated too.

“I just want it to make sense,” Mr. Makely cries. “But this…” he doesn’t know what to say.

“We may be able to make some sense of this with your help,” Y/N offers, her kindest voice on display. She hands him a photo of Maria Delgado. “Do you recognize that woman?”

He stares for a mere second and shakes his head. Gripping his water bottle like his life depended on it, “No. Should I?”

“She was the first victim,” Y/N explains. “We’re trying to determine if she was connected to your wife in some way.”

“Connected?” He asks, having a hard time processing everything.

“We think he may have been following them. Gathering information,” Aaron adds. “Did Shannon ever mention or notice anyone?”

“No…” his brows furrow as he thinks back as far as he can but his mind is clearly shadowed by grief.

“Did you ever notice anyone out of the ordinary in your neighbourhood?” She asks, watching him shake his head. “Maybe someone who was walking or driving by the house repeatedly?”

He keeps shaking his head, he really doesn’t think so.

“What about a truck? Or a large SUV?” Hotch asks.

His brows narrow then, his eyes wander back and forth as he puts some pieces together, “Thursday, I was expecting a package, I kept checking the street and there was a truck parked a couple of houses down. I didn’t recognize it.”

“Could you see anyone inside?” Aaron asks.

He shakes his head again, kicking himself, “I couldn’t tell, the windows were blacked out.”

“Tinted?” Aaron repeats in a different phrasing, looking to Y/N and then back to him.

“Yeah, only all the way around, like you see with limousines,” he explains better. He rubs his mouth then, trying his hardest to think back, he visibly hates himself for not remembering more.

Aaron gives him a moment and then asks one last question. “Do you think that you would recognize the truck if you saw it again?”

He sniffles and then clears his throat, pulling himself together, he nods, “Mhm, maybe?”

And so they get him pictures of trucks, makes and models, they print off so many pictures they have to bring in more paper. This is the most this department's printer has ever gone off, as it would seem.

Dave was back from the mechanic pretty soon thereafter, they were behind on things and asked him to come back in a few hours, meaning Aaron could go with him this time.

The mechanic working on the little red car pops the hood and brings them around to look, “we figured it was the water pump because it was pretty much melted but what we didn’t figure out on this—“ he pulls forward a piece of rubber tubing with a slit cut through it.

“This car's pretty new, that wouldn’t be normal wear and tear, would it?” Aaron asks.

“No, the rest of the lines in good condition,” he explains. “Someone punctured it. You can tell from the smooth edge.”

Aaron leans in to get a better look, “How did they do it?”

“Probably reached the blade right through the grill. Penknife, something like that,” he hypothesizes.

“Wouldn’t’ve even had to pop the hood,” Rossi tisks, shaking his head. Theres nothing he hasn’t seen. “And then she drove away without water in the radiator, it explains the overheating.”

“It explains the pump, too,” The mechanic adds.

“Could someone possibly gauge how far she could’ve travelled with a car in this condition?” Hotch asks one last question to chase his theory.

He presses his lips together and shrugs, “Someone who knows cars could make an educated guess, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Aaron reaches over to shake his hand, that’s everything he needed.

Dave does the same thing, shaking the man's hand before the two of them head off back towards their own car. “Sabotage. This guys more focused than we thought. Well organized, highly motivated.”

“By what though?” Aaron asks, still stuck on that part. “What do these women have in common?”

“Different ages, appearance, social status. He’s not hunting a specific type,” Dave recounts.

“Their only connection is the unsub. There has to have been contact before the attacks,” Hotch says, going back on what they’ve profiled before.

Rossi picks that us, “but we profiled a guy who would be afraid of contact? The trucks a shield.”

“Maybe the contacts are incidental. There’s something he perceives in their exchange. Something about his perception triggers his fixation,” Hotch explains. “Could be the way she looks at him, something she says, or even something as trivial as what she’s wearing… whatever it is, the victims have no idea what they’ve set in motion.”

—

Visiting the crime scenes, and talking with loved ones and the mechanic was really all they could do that day. The team goes out for dinner together around 6 and by 8 they’re all in their hotel rooms with nothing to do for 12 hours— or when another kill comes in.

Y/N and Aaron have a room with two beds, like always, one to sleep in together and one for all their bags to sit on. They change, they get into bed together and by 9pm they’re cuddled into each other and absolutely exhausted. It’s midnight back home, they’d normally still be up at this time but still, all the travel and the emotional toll of talking to victim's families has them pretty wiped out.

He loves this time of night, the way they cuddle and how she fits next to him like she’s the other half of his puzzle. They talk a little, about the case and also about nothing serious at all. He loves this part of the night, when they’re tucked away in some random bed in a random town in America… he never thought he’d have this.

He never imagined one day he wouldn’t be with Haley, and even if he did, he never thought he’d be happy without her. So much of his marriage with her was good, he loved coming home to a cuddle and a good night's sleep. But on the other end, he spent a lot of nights completely alone. He would cuddle his pillow and have terrible sleep only to wake up grumpy and keep searching for another psychopath.

Now, he gets to sleep beside his girlfriend whom he loves so much every single night, no matter where he is. Dating someone on his team was not something he thought would ever happen. He had no idea the joy that dating someone at work could bring him.

“I love you,” he whispers before kissing the back of her neck.

“I love you,” she replies, he can hear the smile on her face.

He holds her a bit tighter, snuggling in against her more, “This is so nice to get to sleep beside you on nights like this.”

“Oh, Aaron,” she has her hand over his, and she squeezes him lovingly.

“I mean it… after talking to Shannon Makely’s husband today, I’m just, I’m really glad I have you.”

She wiggles out of his grip and for a moment he fears that she doesn’t feel the same, instead, she turns to face him. Even in the dark, he can make out her features. He holds her close once more, chest to chest this time, and she smiles. She cups his face and leans in for a quick kiss.

“I feel the same… but I have a question?”

“Okay?”

“If something happened to you, would you want me to talk to Haley?” She asks. “And I’m not talking if you die, I mean, if you’re stabbed or shot or taken hostage, do you want me to talk to her or should that conversation come from Rossi or Strauss?”

“Oh,” he’s never thought about that. “I’d want you to tell her. I mean, she knows we're close so she probably expects it to be you… but if I ever do die on the job, I definitely want it to be you who talks to her. I want you to be the one to give them access to my apartment and make sure Jack gets all my things and that my funeral goes smoothly.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her breathing picks up and he can tell she’s trying hard not to cry. “Okay.”

He simply pulls her in closer and rests his cheek off the top of her head, “but that’s not going to happen.”

“I know.”

“And if it’s ever the other way around if it’s Haley who dies before me, I want you to be with me if I have to go through that. If Jack is still young enough to need to move in with me full-time, I’d want you to be around for that too. I know I’d be a mess if I lost her, and if Jack lost his mom, and that’s not because I’m still in love with her… I mean, I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. If I lost her it would be hard on us, but I’d want you to be there with me when things get hard.”

“Of course, I’d be there for you,” she assures him. “The same way I’d want you to come home with me if my parents passed away. She’s family. I know that. I’m never going to be jealous of her. I’d want to be there for Jack too. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mom as a kid, and I hope he never has to go through that. I’m praying that his mom is in his life for as long as possible and that maybe one day me and haley could even become friends. I want us to be a family, as unconventional as that may be, I love you enough to love everyone in your family, too.”

He wants to cry now too. When he got divorced he never ever, ever thought that he’d find someone who loves him and his family this way. He never thought his girlfriend would want to be close to his ex-wife. He never imagined a world where his son would have two strong and wonderful women to look up to but that’s what he found.

“I love you,” Aaron says before kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much.”

She kisses his neck where her head is tucked in, holding him as close as possible. “Sometimes I can’t believe this happened. Like, I thought you were cute when I started working with you and I knew you were married and I thought all Jack's photos on your desk were so sweet. I really just wanted to be your friend after the divorce. I never had a lot of girlfriends, I’m not super close to JJ or Penelope, so getting to know you was the first time I had a good friend in a long time.”

“Finding friends as an adult is hard,” he sympathizes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without our phone calls… I spent the first few months completely silent in my apartment all alone and then you filled my nights with laughter and smiles and I woke up the next morning excited to go to work. I didn’t even realize I was in love with you until it was almost too late.”

She smiles, “I only figured it out cause I got jealous in New York.”

“God, this last year has been absolutely insane,” he shakes his head. He got divorced, he fell in love and the only other woman he’s ever slept with in his life died. In his arms, too. It’s been such a traumatic year but Y/N made it liveable. She made it okay.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.”

—

They’re up and ready by 7, unable to sleep in that long when their body clock was off.

They all leave at different times, JJ left with Rossi just before Y/N and Aaron were done getting ready and texted that they left. Derek and Spencer were running a little late but that was usual. They had just enough time to get coffee at a local family-owned diner and they even get some breakfast sandwiches too, which were on the house as the owners were thankful the FBI was in town to help. It put an extra pep in their step that morning.

When they arrived at the station, Mr. Makely was already there, still looking through photos of vehicles from the day before but in a new outfit. He went home, didn’t sleep but came back changed to give the illusion that he did. He smelled like booze and the bags under his eyes were the same purple as the tie Aaron had on yesterday. So Arron heads over to the coffee maker, pours the man a cup and sets it down beside him with a smile.

This was going to be a long day.

By the time Derek and Spencer get in, Y/N and JJ have already gone through a box of information gathered on the first two victims. Where they grew up, who they went to school with, their family members, hospital records, speeding tickets, you name it and they’ve seen it. Nothing has added up yet.

Derek takes a seat by Mr. Makely, asking him how he’s doing and questioning him on what he’s able to remember thus far and Marley takes a couple images and lays them out. “These ones stick out.”

“All Ford models, similar grills like you described yesterday,” Derek nods along.

“I guess, they just didn’t have that emblem,” he points. “There was no hood ornament, nothing like that.”

“I understand how hard this must be, but it’ll really help us to know what the truck looks like,” Derek sympathizes. “Our tech girl can put in all these specifications into the system and narrow down who drives this model, she can even go further and track down who’s bought grills and had them shipped to Bend recently.”

“I’ll keep looking,” he assures Derek with a smile.

Derek pats his shoulder and then joins the team at the round table. “How’s it going?” Aaron asks.

“Well, we're down to an older model, black, American-made. Sounds like he de-badged the trucks so nobody could ID him,” Derek explains.

“I can start a list from the DMV matching what we know?” Quinn offers.

“That’s gonna kill a lot of trees up in these parts,” Derek makes a joke, even in times like these he still found a way.

“The trucks only gonna get us so far,” Hotch agrees. “What we need to do is build on the profile.”

“Well he’s mechanically inclined,” Reid throws in. “He certainly knows his way around an engine block.”

“And he can pull a dent too,” Y/N suggests. “If he’s fixing the body damage to his truck himself.”

“Both victims were killed during prime office hours which means he has a flexible work schedule,” Aaron adds.

“Or he might not be working at all? Uh, stalking someone, getting to know their schedule that’s some pretty serious time commitment,” Reid reminds them all.

“8% of the states out of work,” Quinn shares.

“Job loss is a classic stressor,” Derek says for good measure.

“It’s a start,” Hotch sighs. “Look for men who are employed as mechanics, body shops, and look for those with criminal records. Reckless driving, assault…”

“Two murders in 2 weeks, that’s not much of a cooling-off period,” Y/N says.

“He’s not going to wait for another opportunity to present itself,” Hotch agrees.

“No, he’ll create one,” Reid adds, knowing the odds.

—

The call comes in just after 5 p.m., in the middle of shift change. There was another murder, in the parking garage of the local hospital this time. Aaron heads out with Y/N Rossi and Reid, leaving Derek with Mr. Makely and JJ to contact the family once they know more.

When they get there it's a gruesome sight. He was hit in front of the elevator, almost pancaked between the grill of the truck and the metal doors.

“Impact nearly cut him in two,” Quinn says, closing back up the body bag that the coroner had placed the victim in. “His name is Victor Costella. Pediatrist. He works in the building.”

“A male victim?” Y/N can’t believe it.

“There goes the vehicular rape theory,” Rossi says with a sigh, this case was starting to piss him off.

“He ran down from the level above trying to get away,” Quinn explains.

“So the initial collision was up there?” Rossi points. Quinn nods, “Let's go see it.”

They leave the victim where he is and walk up the roundabout ramp towards where he was originally parked. A few cars got caught in the scuffle, and crime scene detectives are already up there taking photos and documenting everything.

“That’s the victims car?” Reid points at the red coop.

“Yeah, why?” Quinn asks, not seeing why it’s important.

“Hold on just a moment,” Reid says, taking his phone from his pocket. “Garcia, I need you to look into something.”

They all knew what that meant. They were about to have a crack in this case and hopefully one big enough to blow it wide open.

“It’s a reserved spot,” Aaron points at the wall, the sign is screwed into the concrete wall with Dr. Costella written on it. Rusty and faded, he’s been at this practice a long time.

“The unsub knew where he was going to park, must’ve gotten here early and picked a spot right across from him,” Rossi explains, turning to look at the other parking spots.

“Somebody might’ve seen him waiting,” Y/N says, hopeful to talk to an eyewitness.

“Somebody did,” Detective Feder says, showing up from the lower level and surprising them with his presence. “I talked to an X-ray tech on the third floor, she noticed the truck when she arrived.

“And he was inside it?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah but she couldn’t see him because of the tint,” he explains.

“So how did she know he was inside the truck?” Aaron asks.

“She said the window was cracked, the occupant was smoking,” he explains further.

Rossi perks right up, “I don’t suppose your people found any cigarette butts?”

Feder looks as though he didn’t even think to look, causing Rossi to head over to the vacant spot across from Costella’s and start to look. “What time did the tech get in?” Rossi asks.

“10 am,” Feder answers.

“7 hours… a proper addict could kill a while pack in that time,” Rossi mutters to himself, squatting down with his pen in hand, he pushes around a couple balled up, yellow, pieces of paper. “Did you ever smoke?” He asks the group.

“I used to do a lot of things,” Y/N answers, honestly.

“I bet you never did this,” he taps the ground.

“He field stripped it,” Aaron notices.

“What is that?” Y/N asks, having not heard the term before, or at least not remembering what it meant.

“Something they teach soldiers to avoid leaving traces in the field,” Quinn explains.

“They squeeze out the filter and then ball up the surrounding paper,” Rossi gives a more detailed explanation.

“Okay so our guy could be ex-military?” Y/N proposes.

Feder takes out some tweezers and an evidence bag, “I’ll get some DNA on this. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s in our system.”

“If he’s military, why would he choose a truck as his weapon?” Quinn asks.

“Maybe he drove a tank?” Feder shrugs.

“That’s a good question,” Rossi assures Quinn, ignoring Feder. “Using a vehicle on the open road is one thing, but this is close quarters.”

“Yeah, the truck is loud and draws attention. Plus he risked rendering in inoperable,” Y/N adds.

“That doesn’t make any sense?” Quinn is a ball of confusion now. Shaking his head, he just wants this to be over with. He wants answers now. He’s not used to the chase in a small town like this.

“It makes sense to him. He needs to kill this way,” Aaron says and then takes a deep breath, dropping his shoulders, he places his hand on Quinn's arm. “We’ll figure out why.”

Reid comes running up the ramp then. Rounding the corner, he’s out of breath already but he has news. “Guys!” They all turn to him. “I think I figured out what connects these victims.”

He explains it once on their walk back to the SUV and then again at the station, filling in JJ and Derek this time as well. “All the victims drove red, two-door coupes.”

“Don’t you think that could be a coincidence?” Quinn asked, not fully sold.

“It’s statistically significant,” Spencer says, sassy as ever in his own Spencer way.

“We haven’t been able to find any other common denominators,” JJ adds.

“if the unsub is targeting people because of their cars, then his initial contact with them would’ve been on the road,” Hotch explains in a way Quinn would better understand.

“Exactly,” Spencer nods, giving him a small smile to say thank you.

“I spoke to the families about the victim's daily car travel— how they got to work, the gym,” JJ points to the board, showing the different coloured pins for the different victims and the routes they took.

“There’s one road all the victims had in common,” Spencer points out.

Three pins are along one highway. The same highway Shannon Makely was murdered on.

“Route seven.” Quinn knows all too well what that road is like and they can tell by the look on his face.

“That means something to you?” Hotch asks, staring him down, he’s talked to the man enough to know whatever he was about to say wasn’t good news.

“Maybe we should take a drive.”

—

It doesn’t take long to drive out there, maybe 20 minutes? Quinn pulls over onto the side of the road and puts his safety blinkers on. They get out together and he walks them over to the side of the cliff. There’s about a 200-meter drop from where they are standing down to a clearing of trees.

Spencer gets close to the edge, looking down while Aaron stays back further. He’s not terrified of heights but he knew what was good for him.

“Anyone living outside bend who commutes toward Eugene, uses Route 7. It’s the most dangerous stretch of highway in the state,” Quinn explains. “They call it suicide seven.”

Along the roadside there are white crosses, the kind you see on the side of the road in the middle of no where to mark where an accident took place. Either drunk driving or mechanical trouble, swerving into the wrong lane after not enough sleep or black ice in the middle of winter that sends you spinning out… there’s way too many in this little section of highway for them not to find it suspicious.

“These crosses represent accidents?” Spencer asks, filling in the blanks in his building theory.

“Fatalities. The fire chief put them up to remind drivers to be careful,” Quinn explains, monotoned and expressionless.

Aaron could tell he hated this part of the job. He would too.

“Two lanes, no dividers, I’m assuming there’s a lot of head-on collisions?”

“Either that or they go off the side,” Quinn says, letting out a deep breath and walking away from the edge.

“Reid you mentioned the possibility of a physical limitation, something that kept the unsub from attacking in a traditional way?” Aaron asks him.

“I was talking about impotence but we ruled out sexual motivation,” he reminds him.

“What if he’d been involved in a crash?”

“On this road…” Spencer starts to nod, putting more pieces together, Aaron could tell it was starting to make sense to not just himself now. “If the unsub is disabled it explains why he uses a truck— it gives him power, mobility…”

“But what?” Aaron asks, wanting him to explain everything going on inside his genius mind.

“The idea that he’s avenging his own physical suffering speaks to a victim mentality that’s inconsistent with the profile,” Spencer explains, puzzled by this piece.

He thinks back to the conversation he had last night with Y/N. How he’d want her by his side if someone important to him died. He didn’t bring it up then, but if he ever lost her. If Y/N ever died… he’d never be okay again. He never once understood why these men were able to kill so easily and then he fell in love again. Harder than ever before. He would kill for her if he had to.

“Then maybe it’s not just about his own suffering,” Aaron hypothesizes. “What if he got hurt in an accident that took a loved one? His wife or child, or both?”

“We’ve had a few cases like that on this highway,” Quinn nods, “I can get the guys back at the station to start pulling files of men who survived while their family didn’t.”

“Broaden that to women and children who died with husbands who weren’t in the car,” Spencer asks. “He could also have been disabled in combat and come home to his family dead, I doubt it but it's still good to add to the search.”

“Good idea,” Aaron agrees.

When they get in the car this time, he feels a little less easy. Turning around, doing a U-turn on this scary patch of road, it made his stomach uneasy. He was never good at being in the car when someone else was driving. He’s old enough now to know a life of having his licence longer than being without it. He hated giving that control away, unless it was with Y/N or Dave and even Derek.

—

When they get back they have just an hour to prep the final profile and before they get in front of the station and local reporters, Aaron pulls Y/N aside. He steals a hug and a kiss from her.

“What was that for?”

“Cause I can,” he says, just holding her closer. He rubs his hand up and down her back. “I love you.”

“You can love me all you want once we catch this guy,” she teases as she pulls away. “Come on, we’ve got a profile to give.”

He knows she’s right, he shouldn’t be doing this here, in a random back corner of the office where no one can see them. He should be prepping with the others, but he couldn’t help it.

He follows her back towards the others, his smile fades and he puts his stern and serious look back on. It was hard being happy and in love while around such horrible things all the time, but he found a way to make it work. When they get back to the table, the whole station has gathered and a few reporters from the next town over are there too, waiting and ready for the team to start talking.

“As we speak, this profile and a description of the unsubs truck are being released to state and national media,” Aaron explains, standing with the others in front of the crowd.

“In addition to what we already know, we believe the unsub is ex-military, most likely army or marines,” Spencer speaks next.

Y/N takes a half step forward, “We also believe he’s physically handicapped.”

“Form combat?” One of the officers asks.

Aaron shakes his head, “most likely from an automobile accident.”

“An accident that may have occurred along route 7, where the unsub finds his victims,” Y/N adds.

“And that has something to do with why he’s going after red coupes,” Quinn says, sitting with the rest of his station but still in the loop more than the others.

“We believe that he holds the driver of a comparable vehicle responsible for his accident,” Spencer explains further.

“And this person is the object of his rage, but unable to confront them, he’s taking revenge against a surrogate,” Aaron makes it absolutely clear that these victims didn’t hurt the unsub first, they just remind him of the person who did.

“These boxes contain accident reports uh, from a strip of route 7 between Bend and Eugene. There’s about 5 years worth, we’re going to need everyone you can spare to comb through them,” Y/N says, taking the lid off of one of the boxes.

“We’ve also compiled a list of local rehabilitation facilities where the unsub may have gone to recover. Use the profile as you canvas these places,” Spencer adds.

“Remember we’re looking for a white male in his early 40s, former military who may have sustained serious injury in a car accident,” Aaron makes the final summary and then disburse.

He reaches for the TV remote and then, turns it up to hear JJ on the local news giving the same report.

“Though only owners of red coupes have been targeted, at this point, we’re asking all the driving public to be vigilant on the road. If you know anyone who fits this description please contact the Bend Police Department immediately. Thank you.”

While JJ is on the news, Derek and Dave have split off two canvases a few different facilities and ask questions. Y/N is about to leave to hit up a few more with Agent Feder, which leaves Aaron with Spencer to go over everything else and wait for calls. So far nothing serious has come from the lines, mainly people saying they’ve seen reckless red coupes on that road or saying their neighbour has that kind of car, but nothing substantial.

When JJ comes back she weeds through the emails from the news station, some people have contacted the news instead of the police because they want their 5 seconds of fame if they got the suspect right. So far almost everyone just knows someone with a black truck, nothing about a disabled man or even licence plate numbers to back their theories up.

And then they get a walk-in.

“Hotch,” JJ comes over to hear him. “This guy walked in, his name is Gil Bonner.”

“What’s his story?” He asks.

“It’s about the unsubs accident he says it’s his fault,” she says, scratching the back of her head and looking as though she doesn’t know if she can believe him or not.

Aaron stands right up and follows her over to the man with Spencer in tow, he shakes his hand and introduces himself as the head of the investigation, making him follow them into another room to talk privately. “Tell us the story from the beginning.”

He sits down and stares at the wall for a moment. “It was late and I had spent all day in Eugene with my mom, she’d been sick… I should’ve been driving, but I just wanted to get home to see my little girl. And it was darker than usual. I remember the moon, it was just a sliver. Right outside the Cascades, my phone started vibrating. When I went to reach for it, I knocked it off the far side of the seat and it fell down by the door and I thought I could reach.”

He gets teary-eyed explaining it all, he can’t meet their eyes for worry they’d look at him like a monster. He’s so filled with shame, he’s been holding this story in for such a long time that recalls it like a folktale.

“You took your eyes off the road,” JJ says in the most sympathetic tone, talking to him like a teacher or a friend. Trying to make sure he can trust them.

“It could’ve been for more than a few seconds, but when I looked back up there were lights and this horn was blaring and I swerved at the last second and I just… kept on going,” he explains. “Without a scratch?”

“You’d gone into the oncoming lane?” Hotch asks, trying to better understand.

The man just nods.

“What happened to the other vehicle?” Spencer asks.

“That’s the thing,” he whispers, brows furrowed, he’s trying his hardest to think back to the exact things that happened that night but the sleep deprivation from that night and the time that’s passed make it hard. “It was in my rearview mirror and then it was gone. Vanished!”

“Why didn’t you stop?” Aaron asks, there is no way he wouldn’t stop if this was him.

“It didn’t seem real,” he explains, still not able to look at him.

“You’re saying you just pretended it didn’t happen?” JJ asks.

“I guess if you tell yourself something for long enough… You can make anything true,” he says, trying his best not to break down. The guilt is eating him alive.

“Well you’re here now,” Aaron assures him that it’ll be okay. “Tell us about the other vehicle.”

“It was the truck you’re looking for.”

“How do you know that?” Aaron needs him to be as sure as possible.

“When I saw the news… it all made sense,” he explains. “It’s come back for revenge.”

They all look at each other, concerned for this man. He’s speaking as if the truck is a ghost and it’s looking for him not that there's a killer out there using this accident as a reason to kill.

“When did the accident happen?” JJ asks, bringing him back to the real issue.

“December ’07,” he spits right back, knowing it exactly. “The second Saturday.”

Spencer quickly reads over the report in his hand, “There were no accidents reported in December of 2007.”

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Thats— no??”

“Maybe you have your dates wrong?” Aaron sympathizes, it was a long time ago and he was under stress. Dates blur in times like these.

“Could’ve been November?”

“Uh, memories are kinda like puzzle pieces,” Spencer explains. “And it’s-it’s quite possible that in suppressing these for so long, you’ve sort of rearranged things?”

He breaks down then, shaking his head.

“How long was your mother sick?” Aaron asks, maybe this will get them closer to the real date.

“5 months,” he knows that for a fact. When it comes to sick relatives, to losing a loved one, you don’t forget that. “She… she died in January. That much I know.”

They let him stay in the room to calm down as long as he needs to but Aaron and Spencer leave. They head back to the table silently and then they both sigh as they take their seats.

“I feel bad for the guy,” Spencer shares.

Aaron nods, “I remember when my mother died, she was sick for a few years before. I remember it like it was yesterday… hopefully JJ and Garcia can pull some hospital records and we can pinpoint when the moon was like that in the later months of 2007.”

“Maybe the others will come back with something from the rehab facilities that we can cross references with him,” Spencer agrees.

“I hope they come back soon,” Aaron says with his small voice.

“It’s strange you know? We’ve been a team for years and I’ve been beside Derek almost every day since the start and now when he’s partnered off doing something without me, it feels like I haven’t seen him in ages,” Spencer sympathizes with him.

“It is weird,” Aaron agrees. “But it’s also nice loving someone so much that a few minutes apart makes you miss them.”

He nods, trying not to smile too big, “I’m glad she finally told you, I’ve been waiting for you guys to get together for a year.”

“I’ve been expecting you and Morgan to get together since 2005,” he teases back.

“Why?”

“Because he’s always been into you, from the moment you started he was fascinated in you and you just never picked up on it because his flirting comes off as teasing,” Aaron explains. “Y/N was telling me that when we went to Chicago to help him after he was arrested, you were at his mother's house and she said he always talked about you to them. He’s been in love with you a lot longer than you think.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens. “I had no idea.”

He laughs, “we know.”

“I knew Y/N was into you when we were at the cemetery, right after New York,” he explains. “I have never seen someone yell at you like that.”

“I know,” he just shakes his head with a smile. “It was a shock for me too.”

JJ comes rushing from the room then, “Hey, I called Y/N and told her about the crash happening between September ’07 and January ’08, she’s with Derek right now at one of the facilities. Feder got called to another issue somewhere else, but they think they found someone who fits the profile. They’re on their way back now.”

“Sounds good.”

—

When Y/N and Derek get back they take a seat at the table beside their partners and get Penelope on the line. She’s able to send them over details on this guy from the rehab centre, Ian Coakley and Reid pulls the information about said crash from one of the boxes Y/N brought out earlier that day.

“Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley, going eastbound on Route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road, and flipped numerous times. No witnesses,” Spencer recounts before laying the file on the table for the others to see.

“His wife was riding in the passenger seat, she died at the scene,” Y/N adds, heartbroken for them.

“Coakley survived,” Aaron read from the file. “Paramedics indicated spinal cord injury.”

“He fractured his T6 and T7 vertebrae,” Morgan says with a sigh, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat.

“Paraplegic,” Aaron nods along.

“That’s not all, he’s a former light-wheel mechanic in the Army National Guard,” Spencer adds.

“Did it say anything about a red car?” Quinn asks.

“No. It says Coakley suffered memory loss after the accident,” Aaron reads from the file.

“Short-term retrograde amnesia is common after a serious accident,” Spencer confirms.

“I think it’s safe to say he remembers now,” Rossi shakes his head.

“Do we have an address?” Aaron asks, wanting to go forward with an arrest.

“I’m working on it,” Penelope says from the office phone which has been on speaker the whole time. “Okay, the house Coakley and his wife bought was foreclosed on 10 months after the accident.”

“Well, there’s gotta be a paper trail then?” Spencer jumps the gun.

“Yeah and that trail leads to a land called nowhere,” Penelope spits back. Typing away. “He cashed some insurance cheques during his stay at Adelman's house but after he left... Zilch."

“Any relatives he could be staying with?” Aaron asks.

“No, I tried that,” Garcia explains. “There’s no family in the area. My exquisitely educated guess is he’s either squatting or subletting with cash.”

“What about his truck?” Rossi asks.

“He owns a ’79 Dodge D100, he bought it used 10 years ago,” she explains.

“he’s had to rebuild it several times now, parts can’t be easy to find for a truck that old,” Rossi reminds her. She’s found more people with less before.

“I smell what you’re cooking agent… Checking auto suppliers in Bend… yeah! Rossi gets a fruit cup with lunch. He’s having the parts drop-shipped through Sid’s Auto and sent directly to an address in southwest Bend,” Penelope explains in her ever-Penelope way.

“Send us the exact address, let’s gear up,” Hotch says as he starts to stand up. “We’ve got two options, either he’s there or he’s out stalking his next victim, I want the crime scene to be there to search the house regardless of if he’s there and if he isn’t I need unmarked cars canvassed in the surrounding areas so he doesn’t get spooked if he comes back and sees sirens and officers. We’re getting this guy. Today.”

“I’ve sent it to your phones and the fax machine there at the station,” Penelope explains. “I’ve also emailed the information to the local judge, we should have a warrant ready in the next half hour.”

“You’re a godsend, Penelope,” Derek reminds her.

“I know. Be safe, come home to me!”

“We always do!” Y/N smiles before hitting the end call button and joining the others in getting ready.

—

Derek is the first one inside, like always, he’s followed by Rossi, then Hotch, Quinn and finally Y/N and a few cops. They clear each room, his garage and his backyard, he’s not there. Just like Aaron suspected.

“His truck is gone,” Derek says as he comes back in from the garage.

“Get all the vehicles off the street and start a perimeter,” Rossi orders to the other officers. “If he comes back this way we’ll want to be ready for him.”

“On it,” they all scatter like flies, leaving the house just as the crime scene unit comes in with Reid and JJ.

“Rossi,” Derek gets his attention, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

Rossi follows him out into the garage leaving Y/N and Aaron in Coakley’s kitchen. “I want you guys to search everything, find me any clues as to who he’s going to be getting next, Quinn and I are going to be driving around Route 7 and the reservoir looking for him. Radios work better than phones up here,” he hands Y/N a walkie and then another to JJ and Reid. “Give this one to Dave and Morgan, Call me if you hear anything.”

“You bet,” JJ gives him a smile and starts getting to work.

“Hey,” Y/N stops him before he heads out. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

They head out then, Hotch drives this time with Quinn in the driver's seat. He’s a quiet man, he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and he could do without small talk. Aaron liked that about him. So far they’ve only talked about the case and similar ones like it, he’s asked questions about if they’ve seen anything like this before and about the other team members but that’s about it.

So needless to say, he’s shocked when he brings up Y/N.

“You two been together long?” He asks.

“Hm? Oh, me and Agent Y/L/N? A while now, yeah,” he tries not to smile.

“She’s nice, smart too,” he compliments.

Aaron just nods, “She’s amazing.”

They’re quiet again for a while, the radio on low and Quinn hums along. He looks out the window and points out every black truck they see but none of them have the License plate they’re looking for, but they know he’s out there.

They get a radio in from Morgan about 15 minutes into the drive, Coakley had photos of previous vics and one man they haven’t seen before. Garcia traced his licence plate and Derek took Y/N over to the guy's house to ask where he is. He’s on a bike ride, headed towards the reservoir. They have this man's bike path mapped out and are chasing him.

“Hotch, we’re on Route 26 heading towards the reservoir, I think we’re about halfway around the loop. So far, no sign of him,” Y/N radios through.

“Copy that. We’re headed southbound on 20. Hopefully, we can hit route 26 before they fly by,” Aaron radios back.

He speeds up, zooming along the old country roads, dust flying behind his tires. He’s careful around the edges, hyper-vigilant that this is a scary road and he’s not the only one on it.

The next radio in is from JJ. “Hotch, you know how Coakley was driving his wife’s car on the night of the accident?”

“I remember.”

“It was a red coupe,” she explains.

“Are you sure?” He can’t believe it.

“We have pictures,” she says, completely positive.

Hotch looks at Quinn carefully and then back to the road, Quinn holds his own radio to his mouth, “What does it mean?” He asks.

“Maybe there was no other car on the road?” JJ hypothesizes.

“Think about it, the make and model of his target car keeps changing,” Y/N chirps in from her end.

“Like he knows they aren’t right,” Hotch adds.

“And his doctor at the rehab facility called it fluid memory but what if it was more than that?”

“So if it’s a single car accident—

“It was Coakley's fault,” Y/N cuts off Quinn. “He was driving back from Napa Valley that night. That’s a long drive.”

“Fell asleep at the wheel,” Quinn can fill in the blanks himself. He’s heard it all before. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“The guilt of that would be overwhelming. The truth, almost impossible to take,” Y/N adds.

“So he’s projecting blame?” Aaron asks, corroborating his theory.

“A red coupe did cause the accident, and he was driving it,” Y/N assures him he’s right.

They reach route 26 then, tyres squeal as he takes a turn and then he gets right back up to speed. Aaron follows the winding path and from his elevation, he can see the truck chasing a group of bikers as they come up the hill. There’s an intersection coming up, the bikers are already heading through it as Aaron goes even faster, hitting 120mph now, he’s going to meet Coakley at the intersection.

“HANG ON!”

Aaron smacks right into the front end of Coakley’s truck as the bikers get away without a scratch. The airbags deployed, they get ditched and the ringing in his ears comes back. He can’t move from his seat, he can barely open both eyes, and he knows he’ll be diagnosed with a concussion as soon as he’s seen by someone but he doesn’t care.

By the time he’s able to get out of the vehicle, it’s too late. The truck has backed up and he’s about to head off after the bikers once more. But Quinn draws his weapon and starts to talk to him anyway.

“You can’t blame other people for what you’ve done Coakley!”

That’s not going to work.

“Detective!” Aaron yells from his seat.

“You know the truth! No one else needs to die,” he continues.

“It’s not going to help!” Aaron tries to get him to stop.

“There was no other red car, was there?” He finally says, making Coakley snap back into reality.

These cases end in 1 of two ways. Either kill themselves or get the cops to do it for them.

Aaron unclips his seatbelt and starts trying to get out but there’s too much damage to the front end of the SUV. His door won’t budge. Coakley is starting his truck back up and he’s about to get away so he pushes harder on the door. It pops open just as Coakely speeds off.

Y/N, riding with Derek, sees Aaron leaning against the SUV and the blood on his face. She jumps out of the car before it even comes to a halt while Aaron shouts, “Go! Go!!” Making Derek keep chasing him.

“Aaron Hotchner!” She scolds him, “What the fuck was that?”

“Oh, don’t start with me,” he waves her off, heading back to the crashed SUV to talk to Detective Quinn.

“You do this all the time!” She yells at him, following him over. “You put yourself in harm's way and you get hurt and then you get pissy that you can’t go back to work right away. Maybe if you stopped putting yourself in the middle of shit—

He turns back to her in the middle of her rant, “I get it! I’m an idiot! But at least those bikers are still alive!”

“Thank god for that!” She yells right back. “It's not like we need you to stay alive too.”

“What is your problem? I’m clearly alive right now?!”

“This time.” That’s all she says. She turns around and starts walking away, up the hill and towards where Derek and all the cops drove.

She makes him feel bad, but at the same time, he’d do it again. His job isn’t to protect and serve, it’s to profile and track down killers. That’s it. He should know that by now… but it doesn’t stick. He’s never been just a normal cop, Derek has, so his instincts aren’t always questioned. It’s ingrained in him. The team brushes it off and sometimes Aaron has to give him a talk.

No one ever gives Aaron the talk. Except Strauss, sometimes she gets on his ass but it’s never got a good reason.

Having someone he loves so much, who loves Him so much, yell at him… that’s new. And he doesn’t like it.

—

Y/N has her own room key, she leaves the precinct before the others and heads to their room so that she doesn’t have to talk to Aaron or see him anymore. She’s still so mad at him. He knows it too.

He arrives at the hotel later on, slowly but surely, he shows up after she’s already changed and sitting in the middle of her own bed. Making it clear to him that he can have the other. She’s in the one furthest from the door, on what is usually his side so that she’s extra far away from him when he gets in.

“Hey,” he says with his safest voice, watching as she simply raises her brows to acknowledge him and then goes back to her book. She sighs, a huff of air leaves her nose and she’s biting her tongue, She clearly wants to say something but doesn’t.

He drops his bags on the floor, kicks off his shoes, tosses his suit jacket onto the free bed and slowly makes his way over to her bed, sitting on the edge with his ankle locked under his other knee. He cocks his head to the side and stares softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I just get so caught up with these guys that I forget that you’re right behind me and you’re watching and everything I do has consequences that you have to deal with, too,” he explains, trying to be as genuine as humanly possible. He wants her to believe him.

“Did you at least get it checked out?” She asks, softening a bit.

He nods and points to the bandage on his forehead, “No concussion and my ear is okay. My chest might bruise up from the seatbelt and this little cut will heal in a day or two, but other than that, I’m okay.”

She nods then too, getting a little choked up. “I can’t lose you. I just got you. I never thought it would happen, Aaron. I thought you loved your ex-wife still and my little crush would end up suffocating me until I moved units. I didn’t think you’d ever love me back and to see you get hurt again after everything we’ve gone through just triggered me a little.”

“It’s okay,” he quickly gets up and sits closer to her, pulling her in for a hug. He rubs her back and kisses the top of her head. “I love you so much I’m never going anywhere. I’m not saying I won’t get hurt again, I can’t see the future, but I’m going to try and stop putting myself in the middle of things.”

“You promise?” She whispers, tossing the blanket away so she can crawl into his lap. She cups his face as she sits down on him. “Please?”

He nods, “I promise, sweetheart. I’m not going to put myself in the middle of this shit anymore.”

“So we won’t have screaming matches in the middle of the woods anymore?” She teases.

He smirks, “Not unless you want to.”

She manages to laugh, dragging her hands down to his tie, she starts to undo it. “I mean… it was pretty hot. I like when you’re angry, every time I’ve seen you put someone in their place I get a little hot and bothered, so it was strange having you yell at me for a change.”

“When you yelled at me that first time, in the cemetery,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “I had to go back to the car because being a little high and in pain… and then getting yelled at like that…”

“Seriously?” Her jaw drops and she looks at him like she’s starving.

He nods again, “You’re hot when you’re in charge.”

She just smirks, pulling his tie off, and she keeps unbuttoning his shirt. She pulls it out of his suit pants, finishes off the buttons, and then runs her hands over his chest. Through the sprinkling of chest hair, she feels him up, “I thought our first time would be more slow and sweet and cute… but now I want to get all bossy and make you fuck the shit out of me.”

“Make me?” He chuckles, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she teases. She leans in and kisses his cheek, “I think,” and then his jaw, “You should,” and down his neck, “fuck me,” her kisses go lower, “‘n show me how sorry you are.”

Her hands now roaming around to his back, over his hips and over his bulge. He basks in it, already getting hard underneath her from just the memory of her wrath. She keeps kissing down his chest until he cups her face and brings her in to kiss her on the lips. He’s kissed her a million times by now but it’s still so exciting. The way she melts against him, the feeling of her tongue against his, the way she slightly whines when his hand starts to move down to her neck and his thumb caress her jaw.

“Mm,” she mumbles as she pulls away. “Can we—“ he steals another few kisses. “Too many—“ more kisses. “Clothes. Need you.”

He lets her pull back enough just to look at him, both catching their breaths, “You have me.”

She reaches for the hem of her shirt and he stops her, taking it in his grip instead he begins to lift it over her head. Arms in the air, he gets it up as much as he can from this sitting position and they laugh when she gets trapped inside her shirt and has to help him pull it all the way off. She tosses it to the side and then rests her hands back on his chest, gently running her fingertips down to his belly button, she starts to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops.

He kisses her again and again and again until she starts to grind against him, wanting more. He cradles her body and carefully starts to sit up on his knees, laying her back down against the mattress. He hovers over her and kisses her jaw and down her neck, trailing his hands down her sides until he reaches her shorts and he pulls back just so he can get them off her.

She helps him get them off and sits up on her own knees to kiss him while she pushes his shirt off his shoulders. He blindly flings it to the floor and she reaches down to unbutton his suit pants and reach her hand in there. Between his pants and his boxers, she cups his length and starts to rub. His hands land on her shoulders, smoothing down the warm skin of her back he pulls her in flush against him and slightly moans into her mouth. Her free hand comes up to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him as close as possible.

She smiles into the kiss, he simply bites her lip as he pulls away. He takes a peak between their bodies to see her boobs pressed against his chest, “you gonna let me go so I can take these pants off?”

She leans in and steals another kiss, “Mmm, maybe,” she kisses him again and again. “Just hurry up about it.”

He’s quick to get off the bed and push both his pants and his underwear off, he even pulls off his socks and leaves them all behind in the pile of discarded things. She’s sat there, leaning back with her hands flat on the mattress, she looks him up and down and then her eyes stay fixed on his cock.

“Like what you see?” He teases her, he grips her ankles and tugs her to the edge of the bed.

She’s a bit shocked, laughing it off, she grips his sides and stares up at him, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He hauls her to her feet, cups her cheeks and he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she smiles back. “Are you nervous?”

He nods, “Just a little. It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve had sex…”

“We’ll its been a lot longer than that for me and I’m almost positive that sex hasn’t changed that much in that time,” she teases. “I love you and I trust you, so I know it’ll be good.”

He kisses her once quickly, “just good?” He kisses her again, the side of her mouth this time. He starts to kiss down her neck, over her collarbones and he cups her boobs so he can smother them in kisses too. Eventually starts to kneel, taking his kisses lower, he starts to take her panties off, kissing her lower stomach and then he looks up at her. “Sit down, let me show you how good I can be.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, he spreads her legs and kisses from her left knee all the way down her thigh and then her lower lips. He spreads them with his fingers and licks a stripe over her cunt, making her gasp as she reaches out to grip his hair at the root.

She holds back her pretty little noises, and as much as he wants to tell her to go wild, he knows JJ is just past that wall in her own room. From all the teasing Derek and Spencer get, she wasn’t going to be loud enough to be added to the relentless jokes her coworkers make.

He teases her hole with his middle finger, feeling how wet she already is, he circles around the opening a few times before plunging his finger inside.

“Fuck,” he groans against her, flicking his tongue back and forth, sucking at her skin and fingering her cunt all at the same time. “You taste like heaven.”

She grinds against his face, barely sitting on the edge of the bed anymore as he wraps his arm around her legs and holds her impossibly close to his mouth. The sound of him eating her out is disgustingly euphoric, he’s so deep it’s like he’s eating her out in search of her soul.

She’s trembling as she gets closer and closer when he stops fingering her, sucking the wetness from her and bringing it back up with his tongue before he sucks on her clit again. That does it, she cums instantly with a shout, covering her mouth and hoping he doesn’t let her hit the floor as she grinds and thrashes through her orgasm. And he doesn’t stop, tongue fucking her to taste the best part.

Her feet touch the floor, and her back is the only part of her still on the bed as she rides his face through it. He pulls back and lets her drop down to the floor and sit in his lap but his "old man" knees are starting to hurt like this, she goes to kiss him and he lets her get a few kisses in before he holds her closer and starts to stand with her. He pulls away just enough to turn her around and push her against the mattress, he kisses her spine and folds himself over her. He moves her hair off her back and kisses her neck. Again, right under her ear, “Are you ready?”

“Please, please,” she begs. “I need you.”

“I might have a condom in my—

“Don’t need it, I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” she assures him.

“Are you—

“Aaron, fuck me, please,” she begs, sticking her ass out even more, taunting him.

He stands up straighter and grips his leaking cock, tapping it on her ass a few times before guiding it between her folds. Teasing her, he grinds the head against her clit a few times before aligning with her hole and starting to push in, inch by inch, she gasps at the feeling and sucks in a sharp breath the deeper he gets.

He folds over her as soon as he bottoms out, kissing her shoulder gently as he reaches out for her hand on the mattress. He interlocks their fingers, holding her hand above her head, he’s as close to her as humanly possible and yet he wants to be closer. He wants to live in her, settle in right beside her soul and never leave.

When he starts to thrust, he goes slowly at first, she reaches back behind herself and rests her hand on his side. Her nails dig into his skin and she whines, “Oh my god, Aaron.”

He kisses her neck and right under her ear, “Can you feel how sorry I am now?” He slightly pulls out and snaps his hips against her then, fucking her quick and dirty.

“Yes, yes! Oh my god, we should get mad at each other more often,” she all but screams, slightly muffled by her face against the mattress.

He pulls away, letting go of her hand so he can rest his on her lower back as he fucks her harder. She brings her one leg up onto the mattress, opening herself up so he can get a little deeper. He grips her leg under the knee and keeps going, harder and more frequent thrusts, making her gasp and moan into the mattress to try and stay quiet but she can’t. It feels too good for her.

For him, it’s even better. The way she sucks him in, how warm she is, how wet she is… she’s even better than he ever imagined and he never wants it to end. But he misses her face. He wants to embrace her and hold her close and make love to her, not just fuck her. So he pulls out.

“wha—

“Roll over. Move up,” he instructs her, kneeling on the bed, he watches her do just that and gets between her legs. He hovers over her, leaning in for a kiss as she reaches between them and guides him back inside.

Kissing her as he trusts, their lips move together and their tongues clash through breathy moans and whispers of “I love you.” Her legs wrapped around him, her arms around his middle, her nails dug into his back as she kneaded at his skin.

He reaches between them, his hand on her pelvis and his thumb starts to circle around her clit. He wants her to be as close as he is, he wants them to cum together. He wants her to enjoy this as much as he was, and from the way she clenches around him and the cute little noises she makes, he knows she is.

“Oh, Aaron,” she whines, tossing her head back.

He kisses her cheek and buries his head in the crease of her neck as he drives into her over and over. He starts to smile to himself, thinking about how she said sex hasn’t changed that much since the last time he had it… But he’s never had sex as good as this. It was never this passionate, never this needy, never this euphoric.

He bites her gently, grazing his teeth along her skin, making her gasp. He wants to suck at her neck, cover her in marks, and let everyone in the world know he’s been there and she belongs to him. He feels so possessive. He knows he can’t. They have to sit on the jet in front of their friends for most of their morning and well into the afternoon tomorrow and if they’re unlucky, start another case right after. He can’t mark her the way he wants. But he can make her his in another way…

“You close?” He asks, prepared to hold back if she isn’t.

But she nods enthusiastically, “god, yeah.”

Through bated breath he asks, just to make sure, “Are you still okay with me finish—

“Yes, yes, please, cum in me?” She begs. “I need it, Aar, please?”

“I got you,” he assures her. “Let go, sweet girl, whenever you’re ready.”

His trusts stay steady and even, his thumb circles her clit, and he kisses just under her ear. She grips him so tight, wrapped around him like her life depended on it and her breathing changes. He knows she’s right there and he’s going to be right after. He wants to feel the way her orgasm sucks him in deeper, the way she pulsates around him, the way her body goes limp and quakes and the beautiful sounds she’ll make before he gives in. He already got a taste of that earlier, but now he wants to memorize it with his cock deep inside of her.

She starts to quake then, her thighs rumble against him. Her back starts to arch, pushing her core closer to him instinctually like this is what she was made for. Her orgasm is right there, bubbling to the top and about to spill. He gives her one last piece of motivation.

“Come on, cum for me,” he whispers. “Be a good girl and— oh, there it is!” He teases as she releases.

He was right. She clenches around him, pulling him in even deeper. He moves his hand away from her clit, wraps them around her back and starts to fuck her even harder, making her cry out over and over, completely disregarding the fact that her coworker is in the next room. He’s so close, right there, he moves to kiss her on the mouth again and she cups his face as he does so. Breathing while kissing her, his hot breath on her face as their lips and tongues meet once more.

His body heats up, his stomach starts to feel like a swarm of butterflies and then it erupts through his bloodstream. He cums with a deep groan, dropping his forehead against hers, he fucks into her once more and stays there as rope after rope of cum releases inside of her.

“I love you,” he pants, collapsing on top of her, holding her back just as close as she’s holding him. “I love you so much.”

—

On the jet in the morning, everyone sat down with their coffee and quiet. Dave has a manuscript for his new book to proofread. Derek has his music. Spencer has some medical journals he finds interesting and JJ has a big smile on her face. “You guys will never guess how long the couple in the room beside me was fucking last night.”

He watches as Y/N’s eyes widen and the colour leaves her face. He just bites his tongue, pressing his lips together he flips through a file, pretending not to hear her.

“How long?” Derek asks.

Just as she goes to answer Spencer speaks up, “Weren’t you beside Y/N and Hotch…”

“I hate you guys, I hate you so much,” Y/N finally bursts out. She shook her head, mortified. “I can’t believe you. I can’t. Seriously?”

They all laugh, Spencer and Derek are relieved that they’re not the only ones to get embarrassed now and JJ is just happy she’s the one to get to start the teasing this time after a year and a bit of being teased about Will.

“I can write you all up, remember?” Aaron reminds them, trying so hard not to smirk but he fails. He knows he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. He had the best sex of his life last night, he’s allowed to glow a bit.

They shut up after that but Spencer does reach his hand over, palm facing Y/N, and she gives him a reluctant high five.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

IKP

@southernraven @alluringshawn @lambsheepsheeping @lmg-stilinski24 @louderfortheback @deludedfruitcake @kleff03 @mrs-ssa-hotch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @lokifanfic2021 @art-and-thoughts @forkswabutnoforks4me @no-1martinipolice @panhoeofmanyfandoms

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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pepaldi · 3 months

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As we chat, the postman rings the bell, delivering packages. Council tree surgeons are working on the road outside. My son needs water, words of comfort, possibly he just wants another good long look at Capaldi. I’ve never interviewed anyone in my own home before and the limitations of the format are becoming apparent. But Capaldi seems to respond well to the setting and its lack of frills. His adult daughter and her family have been visiting, brand new baby in tow. When I apologise for all the noise and interruptions, Capaldi says it’s nothing compared to a newborn.

He and Collins were young parents themselves when his directing career fell apart. Arriving back in London from the disastrous Manhattan trip, “The initial feeling was shock. Then a pragmatic survival instinct kicked in.” Capaldi rejoined the auditioning circuit. “I was a psychiatrist in Midsomer Murders. I was a beekeeper in Poirot – AN Other Actor. Someone else would have turned down these parts first.” Collins, until that point an actor, too, decided to pivot into development and production, a career move that has worked well for her.

“This business is full of people who are not the real thing,” he says, “people I perceived to be artists ’cos they had posh accents, but who didn’t have it, they just sounded like they did.” He goes on to tell a tantalising but intentionally vague story about a major star he worked with, someone who revealed themselves through the course of an acting collaboration to be a dud hiding in plain sight. He won’t provide details (“Too easy to figure out. When everyone’s dead I’ll tell you”), but he says the experience changed him professionally, leaving him more aware of his own limitations, but grateful to have a little vinegar and grit in the mix. “There’s a kind of smoothness, a kind of confidence that comes from a good [paid-for] school. That’s what you’re struck by: they seem to know how to move through the world recognising which battle to fight, where to press their attentions. But it can make the acting smooth, which to me is tedious. I like more neurosis. More fear. More trouble, you know?”

In the new TV show, Criminal Record, he explores a more mortal kind of ageing, life’s third act, its inevitable professional humblings. Capaldi plays a London DCI in his 60s, coming to the end of a career, already moonlighting as a private security contractor, intimidated by the thrust and purpose of a younger colleague at the Met played by Cush Jumbo. As Jumbo’s character grows in confidence, Capaldi’s shrinks. It is a paradox of experience he can relate to. “I find the older I get, the closer I am to who I was,” he says.

I ask him to explain.

“Like I’m returning to… ‘roots’ is the wrong word. I feel more and more like my mother and father, more and more keenly aware of the values they had.” He provides an interesting example, how he has become all thumbs around the act of tipping in restaurants: “I can be in a complete sweat about that.” He can imagine his parents, both dead now, in a similar muddle. “From the background we come from, you can have a bit of anxiety about coming across as grand. So you have to allay that by making sure you are communicating with everybody, all the time.”

Capaldi shakes his head, chuckling softly. He has finished his coffee. He’s about to put on his big coat, say goodbye to my son, and walk back through Whoville to his home and his family. Before he leaves we return to the subject of actors from privileged backgrounds. He says he feels mean, like he took unfair advantage of them in their absence. “It’s not their fault,” he says. “It’s just that there’s less and less of my lot in the arts.” And this concerns him, he continues, because “people of all backgrounds are sophisticated, are interesting, are equally prone to tragedy and joy. Any art that articulates that is a comfort. Art is the ultimate expression of you are not alone, wherever you are, whatever situation you are in. Art is about reaching out. So I think it’s wrong to allow one strata of society to have the most access.”

He nods, feeling he’s expressed himself better. I agree.

The whole interview over at The Guardian.

#Peter Capaldi #The Observer Magazine #Criminal Record #Part of the interview but link to the whole thing

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Destruction Part 6

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

Part one here

Part five here

Monday morning felt as if Civilian had stepped into a time machine, back to when they had first met Jonathan. His aura, which had faded into background noise, like the buzz of the office lights, had returned to full, painful awareness that haunted Civilian. They could track its movement as he wandered to the break room or the restroom. It felt like having a wasp in the room, unseen but loud enough to make its pretense known.

Lunch hovered over them like a guillotine, the clock steadily ticking towards their doom. It made work exceedingly difficult. They clung to the wild hope that maybe Jonathan would leave them alone now that he had revealed the full threat behind his existence.

They clung to it right up until Jonathan appeared at their desk, cruelly fake smile on his face.

“Hungry yet?” he asked, the same question eh always asked.

Usually by this time Civilian was starving and eager for the free lunch he provided. Today their stomach stayed twisted in a knot and the thought of food was unbearable. Still, they managed a nod and wordlessly followed Jonathan down to the elevator.

When this whole dating farce started, Jonathan was content to let Civilian stew silently in their own anxiety. Over time, as they foolishly relaxed, the silence melded into banter, discussion, even jokes.

Now, as Civilian fell back into fear-gripped quiet, Jonathan talked as if nothing had changed. He asked questions about their day, about their life, to which Civilian gave short, wooden answers. Yes, their day was fine. No, they had no siblings. Yes, their coworkers were always that nosy.

The walk back was quiet, though, almost as if he he’d given up. Civilian felt the weight of his stare as they marched stiffly down the sidewalk, fighting the urge to bolt. The entire time they could only think of all the ways Jonathan could end their life without lifting a finger. Without even blinking. And what if, despite doing everything right, he wouldn’t want any witnesses after all? What if Civilian kept their mouth shut all this time and he crushed their heart on the way out of town?

No matter what choice they made, their doom was sealed.

Tuesday they woke up with a scratchy throat and a headache. A persistent cough followed them into Wednesday and by Thursday they’re whole body ached and the office felt like a walk in freezer. They layered their thicket sweatshirt over their office clothes, too cold to care about professionalism, and headed to work.

They should probably be in bed. Hell, they should in a doctor’s office and then in bed, but what if Jonathan found their absence suspicious and their heart just stopped in the middle of the night?

Time passed in a miserable blur. Civilian spent more time with their head leaned against the back of their chair than doing anything productive. The longer they stayed at work, the more appealing death by stopped heart started to look.

“Civilian?”

Jonathan’s voice sounded faint. Almost like a dream. Civilian couldn’t muster the energy to even open their eyes. The thought of moving, of walking, felt impossible.

“I’ll get up,” they mumbled. “Just . . .just give me a minute.”

A cold hand brushed against their forehead and Civilian jerked so abruptly at his touch that their chair slammed back against the desk, causing their pen holder to topple. Eyes snapped open to see Jonathan leaning over their chair, one hand braced next to theirs, the other pressing the back of his knuckles to their temple, their cheek.

Civilian could no longer move except to blink, to breathe.

Fear pounded like a heavy drum, even through the fog of sickness. Jonathan’s gaze roved over their face — the shadows under their eyes, the clamminess of their skin.

“Come on,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not — I’m not hungry today,” they protested faintly.

His jaw tightened. “Good. Because I’m not taking you to lunch. I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

Through the haze of misery, panic set in at the thought of Jonathan knowing where they lived. But it didn’t matter. Civilian’s body stood up, pushed their chair in, stood upright in the face of sudden dizziness. Jonathan directed their body like a puppet master to the elevator, out the side door, down the parking lot and into his car.

“You don’t have to,” they protested weakly, their hand pulling the seat belt down with a click of its own accord. “I — can drive. I’ll be okay. I —“

“Hush,” he said and Civilian’s voice stopped. “And close your eyes.”

Their eyes fluttered gently shut, out of their control. Trying to picture the route, keep track of the turns taken, was impossible with their pounding headache. They knew only that Jonathan had turned in the opposite direction of their apartment. Was that a relief or utterly terrifying?

Time stretched and condensed and meandered until the car finally slowed to a stop. Civilian’s eyes snapped open, an unfamiliar street stretching in front of them. To their left was a large house, the kind usually busted up into smaller apartments.

Jonathan stepped out of the car before coming around and opening the door for Civilian. Only then were they released from his hold, able to unbuckle their seat belt and wobble out. Jonathan wrapped his arm around Civilian’s back and escorted them to the front porch, up a set of narrow stairs to the left, and through a thick wooden door.

He made them sit on the couch before disappearing down the hallway. Civilian gazed around the living room.

So this was Jonathan’s apartment . . .

Part 7

Tagging: (sorry if I've forgotten someone, this tag list is getting out of control lol)

@those-damn-snippets, @heroes-villains-side-blog-side-blog @anonymousewrites @follow-me-into-the-fog, @sunnyside-world, @rivalriotrenegade, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @midnightsillusions, @villain-obsessed-word-nerd, @deflated-bouncingball, @pickleking8, @cesspitoflove, @to-sneak-away-and-hide, @im-a-wonderling @hasel-anne @ghostly-writer @moonknight-s-cumdump

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #enemies to lovers #my writing #not a prompt #fake dating #mutually assured destruction

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look-at-the-soul · 2 months

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The Photoshoot - Part 48

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series Master list: 2014, 2015

A/N: nothing but some fluff and smut 🔥 it’s been a while, but these two continue their path to adopt.

Summary: Yael finds her husband rehearsing for his role as Tommy Shelby. What would you like to see?

Word count: 3,390

Phone, camera, lights, mirror, emergency kit, rain jacket. Yael made a mental note to leave by the door everything she might need for the day, she’d be having an entire team for the project and as much as she preferred to work on her own, meeting people who moved in her same area was always a blessing because sometimes there’s one person who knows someone who might call her in the future.

Walking into the kitchen to grab a tumbler, she found the coffee was ready and some strawberries in a bowl and a granola bar next to a small note from her husband:

Have a beautiful day just like you.

C xo

A smile formed in her lips while happiness spread all over her, Cillian went for a run just as she was taking a shower and they wouldn’t see each other all day due to her photoshoot commitments and he’d be locked in the basement to focus on the Peaky Blinders script.

It was a subtle way to let her know she was in his mind, a small but thoughtful detail, and that’s what she loved the most about him.

There are two types of clients; those who follow suggestions and those who do whatever they want, the problem with photographs taken professionally is that the photographer knows what looks and works best for the camera and what doesn’t.

And then when she worked with other people as brands and stylists she had to deal with different mindset and ideas, plus the hairstylist stepping in to fix something or whatever. So for todays photoshoot, she’d be photographing flowers but would use a model to make the most out of each bouquet, that’s why she chose an ancient building in the heart of Dublin.

Holding her camera case as her most precious belonging, she started to carry her tripod and lights. As usual, she got there early, so she would have some time to set everything without a rush.

“Alright, can we please get into position?” Yael called, she wanted to make out the most out of the natural light to capture the flowers perfectly. They were already over an hour late because it took longer than they expected to install the flower background.

She took care of even the finest detail to ensure she’d get the shoots she envisioned.

Adjusting the tripod, she made sure to get the entire frame.

“My earrings,” the model called with a worried expression. “I forgot them.”

“It’s okay, you can go to the camper, I’ll start taking the other shoots.” Yael waved.

“No, I mean I forgot them at the hotel.”

Yael looked around, most of the crew were men and she didn’t want to waste anymore time to send someone looking for a jewelry shop.

“Would you mind wearing mine?” Yael proposed looking at her watch.

“Not at all.” The blonde replied.

As she let the camera hanging from her neck to get rid of her earrings, the flower shop owner approached them.

“What happened?” The ginger man asked.

“She forgot her earrings, so she’s borrowing mine.”

“Thank you.” The model smiled at her and moved back to take her place and hold the bouquet.

“I’ve only heard compliments from your work. I’m Miles.”

“Nice to meet you.” She focused on the first images and adjusted the flash. “Lina can you look down at the bouquet?” She walked to the side, and bumped into something. “Sorry, would you mind?”

Miles gave her a long look. She needed space to work freely and he was literally in the middle.

“Of course, I’m just admiring your work.” He admitted but moved back just a couple of steps, his gaze still fixed on her, she could feel it.

“Jacky one step forward please, chin up.” She instructed the other model.

“I’m in awe of the quality of your work.” He praised asking to see the last shoot.

Yael took a deep breath as she titled the camera screen towards him. She was used to work on her own, no interruptions, but he had been making suggestions, asking so many personal questions, invading her personal space.

She tried several times to move away from him, but when she least expected he was again close. Placing her left hand in front of him, so he could see her rings but he didn’t seem to get the hint.

“Thank you ladies, we’re done here.” She called.

“You’re joking right?” Miles asked opening his arms in confusion.

“No, I’ve enough material to work with.”

“I’d like you to get some more, if you need to charge me extra for the time it’s fine.”

“I got all the possible angles already, I need you to trust me.”

Yael didn’t like the smirk that he gave her. “I can totally do that.”

“Look I’ve to go, but you can be sure you’ll get an amazing catalog to choose from.”

“So when can I can see you to choose the photos?” Miles asked.

He filled all the check list as a womanizer, she tried to show off her rings once again.

“Oh I don’t do that, I’ll edit the photos and print the best shoots, you’ll get a copy of the entire session.”

Miles then decided it was time to flirt openly with Yael. “It’s actually just an excuse to see you again.”

“That’s not how I work though, and I really need to go my husband is waiting for me.” She made sure to pronounce that last part slowly and clear.

“Thank you again for letting me use your earrings.” Lina approached them with a smile.

“Glad you could use them, it might be a small detail but it’s important in the end. I’ll start carrying an extra pair for future shootings.” She didn’t want to deal with Miles on her own, so when Lina started a small conversation she answered happily.

“Can I give you a call later? I’d like to add some photos to my book.”

Nodding, Yael wrote her number in a piece of paper and gave it to the model. “Message me and I’ll save your contact.”

Picking up her equipment, she was glad Miles had turned his attention to the other model and they were already exchanging numbers. Rolling her eyes, she silently thanked for not having to deal with him anymore.

As she finished with her lights and camera, the florist asked if she wanted to take a few bouquets home. She couldn’t deny the flowers were beautiful, so she thought of making a couple for her friends and family in law.

The house was quiet when she arrived, only Scout came to give Yael a lick as a welcome and then pressed both front paws against her upper body.

“Where’s daddy?” She scratched his head. “I brought you flowers. You can’t eat those though.”

Woof.

“Come on, let’s put these in some water.” She carried the bouquet to the kitchen, after adding some water to the vase and it instantly added a lovely pop of color. “Let’s see if daddy is downstairs.”

Before she could even knock on the basement door, Cillian’s voice caught her attention. Who was he talking to? And why was he shouting?

As she was about to ask what was the matter, she heard him clearly.

“Today it’s my fucking wedding day…”

She blocked Scout just in time as she realized her husband was rehearsing his lines. With his back at her and the script in his hand, arms stretched.

“No fucking fighting…” he then moved to the corner and pointed at the lamp. “No fighting…” then to a family portrait from their own wedding that was in one of the shelves. “No fighting.” Moving back to the center of the basement he took a pause and leaning forward, he stated; “No-fucking-fighting.”

Turning around, he stopped abruptly. Not expecting to see his wife standing by the door.

“I swear I’m not trying to start a fight, but did you get lunch?” Yael asked raising her eyebrows.

“Ah… nope.” Cillian gave her a guilty look.

“Since this morning? Why? It’s almost five.”

He shuddered. “Been busy with the script.”

“Okay that’s enough Mr. Shelby, Mr. Murphy needs to eat.” She opened the door and motioned for him to follow her upstairs.

“I wasn’t hungry.” He tried to excuse himself.

“I’m having none of that, you’re working out like a madman, need to eat properly or a snack at least…” She sighed opening the fridge. “I always have something you can just heat.”

“Honestly I got carried away…” He took seat at the other side of the table realizing how time passed and he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hmm.” Yael mumbled to herself as she waited the sandwich to toast.

Walking towards the pantry, she picked a basket and started to fill it with chips, bars, spicy sweets anything Cillian could easily grab as a snack.

“I thought I’d be late, there was a car accident but like in the opposite direction.” Yael chatted making sure the sandwich was ready.

“These flowers are gorgeous.”

She smiled. “Right? Thought of doing small bouquets.”

“So how was it?”

Yael paused for a second closing her eyes, with her back at him. Unsure of how to approach what had happened.

“Good,” she chuckled, “one of the models forgot her earrings, so I gave her mine.”

Cillian smiled. “Really?”

“I’ve been taking photographs for so long and this has never happened to me before.”

He stood and walked slowly towards the stove. Wrapping his arms around her waist, his lips fanning over her neck sending small shocks of electricity down her body.

Cillian turned his wife around, pressing her between his body and the stove. In a surprise movement, Cillian lifted her body to place Yael over the counter in a swift movement. Intensifying the kiss he settled between her legs.

Yael ran her hands from his soft curls to his shoulders, taking in the way his body felt, so strong. Pressing her heels to his bum, she tried to make Cillian stand impossibly closer as he deepened the kiss, making her let out a soft moan when his hand sneaked under her blouse.

The sound of cheese on the grill made her open her eyes abruptly. “Shit. The sandwich.”

“Fuck the sandwich.” He murmured following her as she leaned down to turn off the stove.

“You don’t want a burnt sandwich.” Yael giggled while her body melted in his arms. Her laugh increased when Scout got in the middle of them.

“He wants a sandwich too.” Cillian pointed stealing one more kiss from her.

Yael took a slice of ham and gave it to Scout, who immediately barked demanding more. A text interrupted Cillian’s lunch.

“It’s Mum, she’s already at the airport.” She smiled and texted her mother back, wishing her a good flight.

“Do you think she’ll overpack? Like the last time.” He chuckled.

“It’s more probable than not.” She answered just as she started tidying up.

“Last time Bryan asked me to not let you guys go shopping, the thing is this time around I won’t be here.” He laughed at his statement.

“Oh stop, I’m already missing you.” Yael went to him, passing an arm behind his neck as Cillian moved the chair back to make room for her to sit on his lap.

“I’m going to miss you too.” He whispered tightening the arm around her while his other hand caressed her thigh. “Come here.”

Turning to face him, Yael held his face between her hands, and kissed him tenderly. It would only be for a few days while Cillian went to do some fitting for his Tommy Shelby wardrobe, but it still felt like a long time.

Titling his head, Cillian passed a hand to the back of her neck to keep Yael in place. Soon the kiss became demanding, resuming to where they previously left. Holding her against his middle section, Cillian got up and encouraged her to wrap her legs around him.

“Oh my God.” She gasped in surprise.

Cillian rolled his eyes jokingly. “You’re just looking for any excuse.”

“Well I can’t let these go to waiste.” She gave him a smirk right before he gently placed her on the back of the couch.

His hands moving up and down her figure, he wanted his fingers to memorize every curve of her body. His lips traced her jaw and moved south, to stay focused at her neck. Yael closed her eyes, unable to focus on anything else as Cillian pressed her down against one of his legs adding some friction.

“Ah.” She moaned.

Cillian fumbled with his jeans, a frustrated groan escaped his lips. That made Yael pull back from her bliss to help him undress. As Cillian stood before her in just his Calvin Klein underwear, Yael took a moment that seemed like an eternity to admire his toned abs and chest. But it was his arms what took her breath away.

Cillian raised an eyebrow as she saw his wife bitting her lower lip, and that hungry stare full of desire.

Before he could ask what was crossing her mind, Yael pulled him in for a heated kiss. “I can’t believe this is all mine.” Her hand moved down from his chest to his abdomen and then to his broad back, enjoying how his muscles felt under her touch.

“You’re still wearing too much clothes if you ask me.” He let out a small grunt as he took her in his arms one more time, her legs instinctively around him as he walked around the couch to settle his wife. She rushed to get rid of her blouse as soon as she got the chance. And Cillian kneeled in front of her to help her with the rest. He then settled between her legs, his lips started moving south, finding one of her breasts midway as his hand found its way to her most intimate part, earning a loud moan as she welcomed his fingers in. “Hmm so wet.”

She was past anything coherent. Eyelids struggling to stay open as the pleasure increased.

Hooking one of his fingers up and Cillian brushed the magical button inside of her and it was enough to make her back arch from the couch.

“I need you.” She bit her lip, trying to resist the urge to explode.

“As you wish.” His fingers were soon replaced by his cock. “Better?” He asked bumping his nose against hers.

“Yes!” She nodded automatically feeling as if she was floating on a cloud already, her delicate hand sneaked between their bodies, feeling him withdrawing, she was ready and waiting for the hard thrust. Cillian adjusted her hips and the new angle was enough to send her over the edge.

“I’m gonna.. oh god!” With another thrust he felt her hand on his bum, her fingers tracing the contour of his cheeks, exploring… taunting him. Before he realized it, her hand had sneaked to an unknown territory and the next thing he knew it was his vision blacked out and his seed rushed out of his body like never before. He stayed still for an instant as she was still dealing with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

She held him in his arms while Cillian took a moment to recover.

“Fuck, I think you milked me completely.” He admitted breathlessly.

His arms struggled to hold him. Yael looked up at him admiring him like this, in her arms. Pulling him down, she kissed the corner of his mouth tentatively.

“For the days we’ll be apart.”

“I’ll start planning more trips if this is the farewell I’m going to get.”

After taking a quick shower, they embarked on a trip the airport to pick up Isla, Scout sitting in the back of the car.

“Oh that sounds nice.” Yael turned up the volume of the radio.

Cillian paid attention to the lyrics. “Yeah.”

I don't wanna go

But baby, we both know

This is not our time

It's time to say goodbye

“Want me to add it to your Tommy playlist?” She asked with a grin.

He nodded.

“Something happened at the photoshoot.” Yael confessed out after a moment in silence.

Cillian turned his head for a split second, noticing something in his wife’s voice. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want you to worry though.”

“Well, spill and let me decide if I need to worry or not.” He tried to encourage her again.

“The person who hired me to do the Photoshoot was at the location and tried several times to engage in conversation and such, making comments and I was like can’t you see my wedding rings?” She shook her head. “When that didn’t work, I started repeating, oh my husband this, my husband that you know?”

As he slowed the speed due to traffic, he turned to look at her.

“But he wouldn’t understand, it was so awkward and uncomfortable. Then by the end of the day, he started chatting to one of the models finally.”

She just couldn’t keep that to herself, she didn’t feel like hiding something like that from Cillian.

“People like that it’s so annoying.”

“Look, you’ll find people like that all the time,” Cillian moved one of his hands to her thigh, and Yael covered it with her own as the car started moving again. “Just make your boundaries clear and do your job. I know it’s uncomfortable but some people are just eejits. Plain and simple, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Yael nodded, her eyes following an airplane that was just taking off.

“I mean, of course I’d go crazy to see anyone looking at my wife the wrong way.”

Yael chuckled. “This is crazy, why would you say that as if it’s Thomas Shelby speaking?”

Cillian scoffed. “That’s not- I’m serious.”

“That’s something he’d say.” She pressed, the smirk was now impossible to hide. “You’re acting more and more like him.”

He opened and closed his mouth, thinking of something coherent to say. “I can’t help it now, it comes involuntarily sometimes, but my point is…” he lost track as they entered the parking lot, “this is a crazy world, full of crazy people. Specially in this business, the line is so thin and easy to cross nowadays. But as long as we’re on the same side, nothing else matters, right?”

She seemed to think about it before nodding.

“I won’t be delivering those photos personally anyways, don’t want him to get a wrong impression.”

She shuddered on their walk to the airport. Lots of people coming in and out.

They’ve talked about it before, while Cillian filmed season two for Peaky Blinders, he came home oddly quiet and when she asked what had happened, Cillian confessed that they had scheduled an intimate scene between Tommy and Grace that day and it was just the two of them on set, the director, camera crew and intimate assistant. The instructions were clear but as they got on with filming the scene, the actress decided to go deeper with the kiss and included her tongue, something he made very clear he was against since the beginning. It wasn’t necessary but happened. He didn’t want to repeat the scene so decided to continue as if nothing happened. But it didn’t mean he had agreed.

They weren’t married back then but it surely sparkled a deeper conversation between them of boundaries on set.

Arriving at the gate walking hand in hand, they headed to one of the cafés to wait for Isla’s arrival. Luckily the flight was on time and Yael’s mother would arrive shortly.

“Look at this.” While they waited, Yael started working on some of her favorite photos from the shooting.

“I like that.” Cillian stated resting his head on his hand and staring at the photograph she was showing him.

“Now watch how everything changes.”

Cillian was in awe of her skills to see the magic in every still she got. His wife had a gift for this, she saw things no one else would notice.

“There’s people coming out.” Cillian pointed at the doors.

“I hope she’s in that group.” Yael revealed and her wish became true, as she saw her mother strolling through the crowd.

Melting into a tight embrace, Cillian witnessed the love between them. It was indescribable feeling, he knew first hand how much Yael loved her mother and sometimes how hard it was to live so far away. He’d cherish that for a long time.

“Thank you for picking me up. You’re the sweetest.” She then opened her arms to welcome him. Then her attention turned to Scout. “Hello you, have you been a good boy?”

Taking the suitcase from her hand, Cillian smiled at his mother in law.

“I’ve been looking for this the whole week.”

“We’re so glad to have you around Isla. How about we go to have dinner at that restaurant you like, with the view to the bay?”

****

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this part, as usual your words is highly appreciated and what keeps me going xxx

Credits photos: same team.photo on Instagram

Song: Tattoos by Loreen

Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @blondie-22 @thenattitude @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel (cant tag) @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @cillspropertea @hyperfixationsonshuffle @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @abbymcguire @shelundeadxxxx @elk96 @pono-pura-vida @lovemissyhoneybee @slimeantha (can’t tag) @kmc1989 @ironpen

#that’s what Cill said #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy oc #Cillian Murphy x Tommy Shelby #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x you #Tommy Shelby x OC

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pengweng-quack · 2 months

Note

Requesting a work on how nanami’s attitude rubbed on the reader 🥳 She applies his philosophy of prioritizing efficiency and effectiveness in her personal and professional life :))

You're Rubbing on Me

Nanami x GN!Reader

Summary: After announcing to friends and students that Y/N and Nanami have been dating, they start to notice just how much his attitude has actually rubbed on them

Notes:

So, I just took inspiration on the first part lol (since efficiency and effectiveness are not the same) but I hope that this still fits with your request anon! Hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2195 words

Masterlist

“You’re telling us, that you’ve been together for years already?” Yuji asked, his eyes widened at the two

“Yep, we’ve been dating prior to his return here.” Y/N patiently answered to the pink-haired kid, a smile on their face as they remember how Nanami asked them out

“Woah, never thought Nanami-sensei had it in him to ask someone out.” Nobara joked, getting the three of them to let out giggles “From Yuji’s stories, he seems to be a cold man.”

Y/N had one look at their watch and saw that it was almost the end of their shift. Usually, they would stay a bit longer to chat with the two teens but they have an upcoming mission with Nobara tomorrow, and knew that they needed energy to fully work with her

“I’m gonna call it a day, I’ll see you tomorrow Kugisaki-kun.” Y/N politely told them, standing up and bowing to the two before gathering their stuff. But as they were about to leave, Gojo was walking in the room, the same wide grin that he sports on his face

“Gonna go home already?” Gojo asked them, they only nodded in reply, before walking out the room. Leaving Gojo with his students

Walking out the school, Ijichi was already outside by the car, patiently waiting for them. Y/N subtly nodded to him and entered in the passenger seat, just informing him to drop them by Nanami’s house before zoning out, using the tunes playing in the radio as background noise

"Y/L/N-san, we're here." Ijichi quietly told them, getting Y/N to be pulled away from their daydreaming

"Thanks, Ijichi." Y/N told him, a small smile directed to him before stepping out of the car

They walked in the house, uncuffing the sleeves of their blouse with every step, the aroma of freshly cooked food filling up their nose

"Hey love, how was today?" Nanami asked, his head peeking out from the doorway to the kitchen

"It was alright." Y/N plainly answered, following him to the kitchen and sitting on the kitchen island "The kids are amazed that you had the courage to ask me out."

Nanami only chuckled at their reply, playfully rolling his eyes at the kids' antics. He placed two plates on the island, before placing a bowl filled with their dinner for tonight

"You spoil me, my love." Y/N only told him, a smile growing on their face as they watch Nanami take control of everything

"You deserve to be spoiled." Nanami only replied, leaving a peck on their temples before sitting down next to them

"Besides, got to prove to the kids that I do have the capabilities to be with you." He added playfully, a small grin on his face

“You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, I promise.”

“Y/L/N-sensei, are you ready?” Nobara said with a grin, excited to finally be on a mission

“Kugisaki-kun, this mission is to only confirm if you’re actually able to be a first-grade.” Y/N told her in a prim tone, not wanting for the girl to see this mission as the same attitude as how she does when paired with Yuji or Fushiguro

“Who will confirm for Yuji and Fushiguro?” She asked curiously

“Your Kusakabe-sensei will accompany Yuji, and your Nanami-sensei will accompany Fushiguro.” They replied simply, patiently waiting until she asks some questions again

“So, Nanami-sensei—

“I prefer to not talk about my personal life during missions.” Y/N told her firmly “You wouldn’t want me prying on your personal life, would you?”

“Yours is much more interesting.” Nobara replied simply, just as Ijichi was pulling up to an abandoned warehouse

The place was reeking in curse residuals, getting Y/N to cringe at the sight of it. Nobara was only staring at the building, listening to Ijichi inform them about what the curse to expect was.

“When you both step in the warehouse, that’s when I’ll cast the curtain.” Ijichi informed them as the two step out of the car, walking closer to the warehouse

“Kugisaki-kun, stay behind me.” Y/N ordered, drawing out their katana and stepping in the warehouse first, the teen was cautiously following behind them, her weapon out and ready to use too

The happenings were too fast, the curse that was warned to them kicked Y/N to a distance, causing them to be stabbed by one of the stray metal bars and immobilizing them. Nobara tried to attack but the curse was faster, kicking her to the face and causing her to stumble down.

With a quick decision in mind, Y/N immediately threw their katana at the curse, yelling at Nobara to dodge their weapon. They were bleeding profusely, hissing in pain as they look down on the stab.

The metal bar pierced through from their back to the inside of their body, thankfully not pushing out of them. If Y/N was to guess, they were probably stabbed by the rib cage, but no ribs were damaged. They let out a sigh, hoping that their assumption was right.

“Y/L/N-sensei!” Nobara yelled, running to where they were, dodging the katana that was thrown directly to the curse.

The katana immobilized the curse, so Nobara went and imbued some nails with her curse energy and launched it directly to the curse as well, using her technique to exorcise the curse.

“Grab my katana to slice the bar, it’ll hurt more if you pull it out. And lessen my chance of surviving.” They ordered to the teen, hissing as any attempt of moving was stinging

“I’m sorry—

“Kugisaki-kun, take deep breaths.” Y/N comforted to her “Grab my katana and slice the metal bar so that we won’t struggle too much in moving me.”

Nobara rushed to grab their katana, picking it up despite her anxious approach. She quickly rushed back to where they were, swinging Y/N’s katana behind her with one swoop, cutting the metal bar smaller

“Kugisaki-kun, go rush out and call Ijichi, you won’t be able to support my body weight alone.” Y/N ordered to her, but Nobara only stubbornly tried to support them up, slowly helping them get on their feet

“I’m not leaving you here, sensei.” She only told them, carrying Y/N piggy-back style and rushing out the warehouse, using her cursed technique to break the curtain, showing Ijichi the situation

“Ijichi-sensei, how fast can you drive?!” Nobara yelled

Ijichi immediately entered the car while Nobara entered Y/N into the backseat, sitting next to them for support for their wound.

“You did good today, Kugisaki-kun.” Y/N drowsily said, a small smile of approval on their face “Gojo would be proud of your improvement.”

Y/N won’t deny that Nobara has been brave today, taking control over a situation when they were unable to do so. The girl was more than capable of being a first grade that not making her be one would just feel like they were robbing her, the same that they do to Maki.

“So excited to watch over Maki-kun soon, I think she’ll do good too.” Y/N rambled, keeping themselves awake

“Y/L/N-sensei, what do you feel for Nanami-sensei?” Nobara asked them, using questions to keep Y/N’s mind from not shutting off from the damage

“The best man possible.” Y/N responded almost immediately, their sight fading away “He’s such a good man. To me, to Itadori-kun, to everyone.”

“Y/L/N-san, we’re almost close to Shoko-san.” Ijichi informed nervously, speeding up to make it in time

“Tell Kento I love him—

“You’re not dying. Not today, not anytime soon.” Nobara said sternly as Ijichi pulled up to the school, rushing to get out and help Nobara in carrying Y/N into Shoko’s office

Y/N could only felt their consciousness fade away, knowing that they’ve lost too much blood. They were now counting on Ijichi and Nobara to get them to Shoko in time, placing their complete trust on the two of them.

A few days after the accident was when Y/N woke up, their torso wrapped around with bandage and many equipment attached to them. There were some basket of fruits and some flowers on the side table, and Kento was by one of the provided chairs, scrolling on his phone

“Hello, my love.” Y/N said softly, making Kento look up at them, finally easing up since they were awake

“How are you feeling?” Kento asked, moving his chair closer to the bed

“How’s Kugisaki?” They asked immediately, Kento only shook his head at them

“She’s alright, was in a much better condition than you are now.” He answered, smiling softly at them “Though she was crying to me, thinking that she was at fault for the accident.”

“She’s not to blame, the curse was too fast for the both of us. We were caught off guard.” Y/N defended earnestly, getting Kento to chuckle at them

“I know, I read the report.” Kento only told them, carefully grabbing their hand and planting a soft kiss on it “She was very brave on handling that, I know she’d definitely get your approval.”

“I love you. I didn’t want to scare you like this.” They apologized, a small smile on their face

“I love you more. And I know you didn’t want that to happen.”

Nanami had been more than patient during their recovery stage, with him taking time off as well so that his whole attention would be on Y/N for the time being that they’re at home. He would rarely let them actually do any work, always making sure that they’re resting.

Two weeks after the mission, Y/N was finally allowed to go back to school to overview the students’ training. It was gonna take them another month or two before they’re allowed to go back on missions, but it was nice to finally not be crammed at home

“Maki-kun needs to be assessed soon, when will Kusakabe or Nanami-san be available?” They heard Gojo ask Yaga, getting them to walk in the office

“I can do—

“No. Shoko’s order.” Gojo sternly told them, earning a groan from Y/N

“Maybe it’ll be best if we skip the being accompanied by a first grade for her?” Yaga asked, pondering it thoroughly “Among everyone that was recommended, she’s alw—

“You are not letting out a student to fight a first-grade curse for the first time without any accompany!” Y/N immediately told them, their eyebrows furrowed at the thought of letting Maki out on her own

“She’s more than—

“I don’t fucking care if she’s more than capable.” Y/N hissed to the two “And if the mission doesn’t go as well as planned, then what?”

“She’s more than capable, trust her.” Yaga tried to assure them

“I told you, I don’t fucking care if she’s more than capable because we already know that she is.” They angrily replied “I care for her safety because if you’re forgetting, she’s still a student.”

Y/N knew to cool off her anger against Yaga and decided to just walk out, going out to the training areas where Maki was training with the Yuta, destroying the special grade in hand-to-hand combat.

“Sensei!” Yuta yelled, before getting smacked to the face by Maki, making him stumble down

“I think you both should go take a break first.” Y/N said fondly to the two of them, sitting down on one of the available seats

“Sensei sensed that you were losing, they had to call a time out.” Maki teased Yuta, sitting next to them

“Don’t sit there, there’s an ant infestation by there.” They warned to the two, getting them to move to the opposite side to where they were

“Y/N-kun!” Gojo greeted loudly, sitting next to them before Maki and Yuta both got to warn him

“Don’t tell him.” Y/N mouthed to the two, a cheeky grin on their face

“You prankster.” Gojo said loudly, realizing where he had sat down, moving away from the ant manifestation and crossing his arms at them

“To be fair, you didn’t ask.” Y/N shrugged, giggling at his pouting

“Nanami-kun! Y/N is being mean.” Gojo playfully complained to Nanami who was walking out

“I think you deserve it.” Nanami plainly replied, sitting next to Yuta

“Y/N used to be on my side when it comes to pranks like these.” Gojo playfully cried, clutching his chest as if he’s been badly betrayed by them “You’re becoming like Nanami-kun.”

“I just didn’t tell you that there were ant manifestations because you sat down too fast?” Y/N asked, their eyebrows furrowed at Gojo

“I remember the time when we used to prank Nanami-kun when he was coming back to jujutsu.” Gojo recalled lovingly, a smile on his face

“Probably what made him hold back from us announcing our relationship, don’t you think?” Y/N asked playfully, endearingly looking at Nanami

“No, it’s not that.” Nanami answered earnestly “Just Gojo’s lack of respect of my feelings for you frankly.”

“Nanami-kun, stop spending time with Y/N, you’re rubbing on them.” Gojo teased, earning Maki to let out a sigh and for Y/N to chuckle at his comment

“Yeah, go spend time with him instead.” Y/N teased back, a grin on their face “Might teach him a thing or two about how to properly teach his students.”

“Hey?!”

#jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanamin #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #kento x reader #jjk #nanami x reader #kento x y/n #kento

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hunieday · 6 months

Text

Yuki - Idol Star Prince Stage Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: momo

Yuki: please talk to me about anything

Momo: Yuki?! Thank you for your hard work!

Momo:

Momo: I know you’re composing a song right now so are you stuck…？

Yuki: mhm

Yuki: I feel like im turning into an exhaustion stew

Momo: A Yuki stew, now that’s a new one?! I’d love stewed radish on my plate! 😋

Yuki: Then I’ll turn into a radish now. I’ll even add chili peppers free of charge

Momo: lololol

Momo: I only see you like this when you’re tired…are you okay? I can talk to you as much as you want, but is there anything else I could do for you?

Yuki: right now

Momo: Right now?

Yuki: dr

Momo: Dr?

Momo: Huh

Momo: Yukiiiii, are you okay?😭

Yuki: dri

Momo: Are you making me piece your quiz together one letter at a time?!

Momo: Driver?

Yuki:

Momo: You fell asleep…was I wrong…

Yuki: you were right up until the v

Momo: lololol I was close

Momo: Wait, is your word “a drive”?!

Yuki: yeah, somehow i want to go on a drive with you rather than talk through rabbichat

Yuki: it’s about time your magazine shoot wrapped up

Momo: Ahhh!!! Right!!!!! That was the plan but…

Momo: We’re waiting to shoot the last images with the sunset in the background, but there are clouds obstructing it…

Yuki: the clouds are holding momo back….

Momo:

Momo: I’m sorry to keep you waiting, it might be better to call it off for today…

Yuki: i’ll wait for you

Momo: huh

Yuki: i’ll wait for you. I don't think i’ll do anything if i just sit here in front of a computer screen

Momo: Yukiiiiiiii~~~~~~

Yuki: i know

Momo: I haven’t even said it yet!!!!! But the fact that you knew I was about to call you handsome makes you ultra handsome!!!!! >u<😍😆😍💚

Momo: Haah… and I’m double nervous now because I was staring at a picture I took of you during your idol star costume fitting right before you messaged me 😍💚

Yuki: hehe, you were staring at me?

Yuki: ah, I haven’t filled the idol star survey yet

Momo: It must’ve been tough since you have so much on your plate, especially the composing stuff 😭😭

Yuki: What kind of questions did you get?

Momo: Mostly questions about princely stuff 🤔 “have you ever thought about being a prince?” something like that!

Yuki: never

Momo: Obviously! Yuki is already a handsome prince who takes me out on drives 🤴 ✨

Momo: There were also questions about whether I read adventure books where the prince fights to save the princess, especially as kids!

Yuki: i didn’t. we didn’t have books like that at home

Momo: I bet a dad like that wouldn’t buy those kinda books! 😆

Yuki: i knew such stories existed though. I thought it was weird to voluntarily go through to such lengths just to save a princess.

Yuki: why not leave it to a strong valiant knight. he has a better shot at succeeding anyways

Momo: That’s right!!!! lolol it would be meaningless to go help then get beat up and defeated 🤣

Momo: But the Yuki I know wouldn’t leave it up to some strong knight, he’d rush to the rescue himself

Yuki: You think so?

Momo: For the juniors’ sake, you would greet the producers and tell them to “take care of those children”, then you strike a conversation with them during recordings! You’re so cool and dependable！

Momo: That’s the Yuki I know!

Yuki: thank you, Momo

Yuki: If you were the captured one and not the princess, I would definitely come running.

Yuki: So, if you don’t want to put me in danger, don’t keep secrets from me.

Momo: Yuki…

Momo: I’m sorry to interrupt this very heartfelt moment, but the sun is setting!! I’m gonna dash to wrap this up, so let’s talk about this in person!!!!!!!!!!

Momo: I’ll never do anything that would put you in danger, I promise, and I won't let you do anything reckless!!!!

Yuki: you better keep that promise

Yuki: I might not have a horse carriage or tea that’d suit a princess, but I’ll be waiting for you in my own car with momorin for you.

Momo: You are too good ✨ ‼️

Momo: Yuki, you’re the absolute best prince!

Momo:

Yuki:

#i7 #idolish7 #ainana #idolish7 translation #id7 #re:vale #momose sunohara #orikasa yukito #idol star #rabbitchat

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cui-nisi · 1 year

Text

Lavender And Cinnamon (Leon x Reader)

•Notes•

Pairing: RE4 Leon x Reader

Summary: You work at a high-end spa called Exotic Luxuries where you’re assigned to take care of the alluring and mysterious Leon S. Kennedy. But late-night sessions can lead to more than just a regular massage…

Warnings: slight cursing, no protection (use protecting!), workplace sex, riding, blowjobs, pet names (‘good girl’), dom. Leon, praise kink, slight nipple play

WC: 6,750

A/N: A bit different from my usual stuff but I’ve been obsessed with this man especially with the release of RE4 so I wrote this one-shot to help get him out of my head (it didn’t work)! I hope you like it!

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes looked over the list of reservations you’d be handling for the day, your boss standing behind the check-in desk mumbling about the shortage of massage oils.

“Seems like the regulars…” you stated as you looked over to watch your boss.

“Yeah…” they sighed, turning to look over at you with tired eyes, “but you do seem to have a newcomer coming in later today. Ensure that you treat them with the utmost respect and professionalism, alright?”

You nodded before glancing back down at the list to see your last and latest reservation set for eight o’clock. “Leon S. Kennedy?” You tested the name, it sounded like a pseudonym as you cocked an eyebrow skeptically, “is that a joke?”

“It most certainly is not.” Your boss finally stood to turn and face you, their expression serious, “they’re a high-class customer, alright?”

You nodded, understanding what your boss was saying. You’ve had your fair share of “high-class customers” from mayors to senators who would come in and reserve a massage. The spa in which you worked had humble beginnings but by the time you were hired the reputation of your spa had grown to become a fairly luxurious business that served people with important backgrounds.

Confidentiality was key with this job; so much so that you were even required to sign an NDA upon being hired. You weren’t sure why it was such a big deal as nothing explicit ever occurred with the patrons, at least not to your knowledge. But you refrained from asking questions and focused on doing what you were hired to do and giving out high-quality massages.

“I’ll do my best to satisfy him,” you proclaimed, your boss offering you a small smile before leaving to carry out their other tasks for the day.

You push aside the ominous ‘Leon S. Kennedy’ as you go about your day, your scheduled reservations trickle in, many of them regulars who you’ve attended multiple times. By the time the clock hits 7:45, your hands are starting to feel sore as your joints ache. You bid your last customer goodbye before going into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Long day?”

You startle at the sink, turning around to see one of your coworkers entering the bathroom.

“Oh hey, Jenna,” you offer her a small smile before turning off the faucet.

She stalks over to you, her eyes wide with an excitement you don’t trust, “I heard about your last customer.” she says knowingly.

“Okay?” You quirk an eyebrow at her, unsure why she seems so vested in your customer’s affairs.

“You’re not excited?”

“Why should I be? It’s just another customer.”

You watch as Jenna’s eyes widen, an amused smile pasted on her lips as her voice drops to a hushed whisper, “so you really don’t know?”

“No..?”

Jenna chuckles softly to herself before she responds, her voice light, “Leon S. Kennedy. He was hired by the federal government to act as a special agent. Rumors say he was tasked with saving the president’s daughter a few months back when she was kidnapped.”

You stare at Jenna as she talks, her words registering in your head before you give her a dubious look. She was known to stretch the truth at times and you couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at her.

“I’m serious!” she urges after a second of silence passes between the two of you.

“I’m sure you are! It’s just… you gotta understand that that’s a lot of information you dumped on me.” You explain, grabbing a paper towel and drying off your hands as Jenna moves around you to one of the empty stalls.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m just telling you so you know what you're in for, okay? Treat him nicely. I heard he’s easy on the eyes so it shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You roll your eyes as you exit the bathroom, your voice meeting Jenna’s quiet laughter as you call back to her, “real professional, Jenna.”

As you make your way back to the front desk, awaiting your last customer, you can’t help but let Jenna’s words wash over you. Was she really telling the truth? Why would she lie about something like this?

Your eyes glaze over to the open computer on the front desk before darting to the clock: 7:56. Your customer would be here any minute but your curiosity was eating away at you. You chewed on your bottom lip… one quick little Google search of his name couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, you rationalized it by saying that it was best to be prepared and know your new customer so that you knew how to better take care of him during your session.

Temptation and curiosity made a heady mix as your hands as if automatically, lept to the keyboard and quickly typed in the name ‘Leon S. Kennedy’. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but considering that Leon was a supposed federal agent, you guessed that you shouldn’t have been too shocked to see little information about him online. Being a federal agent must mean that you have to keep a lot of personal information offline, but the lack of information on him could also mean that he’s just a reclusive kind of guy.

You sigh tiredly before looking back up and yelping at what you see. Across from you, in front of the desk, you’re met with a tall man with long light brown hair that slightly shadows his sharp-looking eyes. His narrow nose and small pink lips along with his angular jaw all came together to create a face that could have anyone stunned on the spot.

“I have an appointment.”

His voice almost sends a shiver down your spine. His voice was a bit deep yet not unfriendly, just distant. His tone gave nothing away except pure professionalism despite him being here as a customer and not a worker. Everything about this man just oozed secrecy and you guessed that Jenna was right when she said this guy was a federal agent.

“Of course, eight o’clock for Mister Kennedy, right?” You say, forcing your eyes away from the man and trying your best to remain calm and polite, just as you are with every other customer.

“You can just call me by my name. It seems like you’re fairly familiar with it anyway,” your eyebrows raise slightly until you notice the quick glance Leon sends the open computer on the desk with his name clearly typed into the search bar.

Your eyes widen in horror before you swiftly power off the computer, a wavering smile on your lips as you respond, “I apologize… Leon.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Leon assures, the hint of a smile lifting the corner of his lips as he looks over you, his gaze analytical as if he’s trying to read you with a distant curiosity.

You swallow the dry spit that has collected in your mouth as his gaze stays on you. “If you’ll follow me to the back, Leon. My name is _____ and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” You state as you lead Leon down a series of dimly lit hallways, remembering that you have a job to do and need to fulfill it as such.

“Nice to meet you, ____.” the man behind you greets, his voice calm and measured as he says your name. “Is it usually this quiet here?” he asks after a second of silence passes.

You do your best not to focus on the way your name fits on his tongue and simply offer him a small smile as you briefly turn around to look at him before answering his question, “we try to keep a serene atmosphere here at Exotic Luxuries. Although since your appointment was a bit later most, if not all, the other workers have headed home for the night.”

You see Leon’s eyes widen slightly an apologetic look flickering over his piercing blue eyes, “I apologize for keeping you so late. I understand the frustrations one can have when having to work overtime… that’s actually the reason why I had to book this so late.”

You shake off his apology, “don’t worry about it. Were you working earlier?” You say carefully, not wanting to sound too interested in his line of work.

There’s a second of silence as your footsteps occupy the space between you and Leon. For a second you worry if you crossed the line, you don’t usually ask your customers about their jobs unless they confide in you first but you can’t help but want to know more about this man… this man who was tasked with saving the president’s daughter, supposedly. You can’t help but be curious.

Luckily though, it doesn’t seem as if Leon is upset with your intrigue as he responds a few seconds later, his voice polite. “Yes, you’re correct. I just got off about 30 minutes ago.”

Your eyes widen, unable to curve the shocked tone in your voice as you blurt out, “you just got off? Jesus, you must be so tired!”

Another second of tentative silence stretches on between you two as you curse yourself out for saying something so obvious. Before you can apologize for your rudeness you hear a quiet chuckle from behind you. Turning around you cast a brief glance up at Leon’s face and see him laughing softly, it’s not a full-on laugh and more of a close-lipped chuckle, but the way his lips curve slightly upwards makes something in you twist as you force your gaze away.

You continue your way through the halls until you eventually stop in front of a door made of glass but with a tint over it that makes it hard for anyone to see anything through it.

“This is where we’ll be having our session for the evening,” you say formally while gesturing to the door, “I’ll give you a few minutes to change out of your clothes. There’s a towel in there for you to use to cover yourself. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Leon nods curtly at you, his eyes gazing at you briefly before he opens the door and heads inside. You watch the way his leather-bound jacket hugs his broad shoulders before the door closes, sequentially cutting off your vision of the beautiful man.

“Get yourself together, _____” you mumble to yourself before quickly walking away to the supply room.

According to the reservation, Leon reserved the first-time package, a promotion your boss was running that allowed new customers to get an hour-long massage at a 50% discount along with 30 minutes free in the sauna room. It was a pretty good deal and had brought in a plethora of new customers who left with a membership. You at least were used to doing it and felt better prepared to not embarrass yourself in front of Leon. You only hoped you could get through the massage without any incidents that would have you fired.

You reach for the supplies you’d need including a lavender and cinnamon scented oil before making your way back to the room you left Leon in. When you take a deep calming breath and open the door you expected to find the man lying face down on the cushioned bench centered in the middle of the room like everyone else. So imagine your surprise when you instead find Leon with his back facing you as he observes the different oils on display on a shelf. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his bare back, the tendrils of his muscles flexing as he reaches up to grab one of the oils. Your eyes travel lower down his back until they reach the white towel wrapped around his waistline.

My god did he look gorgeous.

As much as you wanted to keep looking at him you had to remain professional. You knocked briefly on the door to alert him of your presence, causing the man to turn his head slightly to you, his voice calling out to you in the small room.

“Sorry, am I not meant to touch these?” he holds up the small oil in his hand.

You shake your head, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind you. “You’re fine. Did you have any questions about them?”

He shakes his head before setting it back down and turning around, striding over to the bench as you begin prepping on a nearby wooden stand.

“I was just curious to read each oil’s scent, I’ve never been to a spa before so…” as his voice trails off you glance back to smile friendly at him but immediately feel your cheeks flush at the sight you’re met with.

In the dim candlelit room, you notice how the warm glow from the tiny flames bathes Leon in their serene glow. The flickering shadows of their fiery nature create patches of darkness across Leon’s skin before being overtaken by light once again resembling a makeshift mirage of shadows. Every flex of his defined muscles is outlined by the shadows they leave on his skin like delicate brush lines dipped in black paint. He truly was a piece of art- a walking canvas.

It takes all your willpower to tear your eyes away before you start drooling as you try to remember what he said and provide an appropriate response, “yeah…um. Each oil’s unique scent can have a different effect on the person using it depending on what they want.”

“Like what?”

You think for a moment before picking up the oil you chose for Leon as you turn to him and force your eyes to meet his rather than glance down at his chiseled body. “This is a lavender cinnamon essential massage oil. The contrast of the sweet and cool lavender with the warm and spicy cinnamon produces an indomitable romantic blend. It creates a calming yet stimulating feeling when massaged into the skin. The scent also restores your mind to a more relaxed state.”

Leon nods at your explanation, a ghost of what you assume to be a smirk crosses over his lips before it's quickly wiped away as he heads over to the bench and sits down.

“Where would you like me to start the massage? We could start on your front or on your back.”

“My front if you don’t mind. I don’t really like having my back turned.”

You nod, somewhat understanding why he’d feel that way if his job always requires him to be on alert. “That’s fine. Do you mind getting under the sheet and removing your towel? I’ll turn around as you do so.” You say gently, turning around.

You hear some rustling sounds before Leon’s smooth voice tells you that’s finished. You turn around to see the sheet covering his lower body, leaving his chest and arms exposed.

“Is it okay if I leave the sheet off my chest?” he asks.

You nod, “that’s completely fine. As long as you’re comfortable,” you move closer to Leon and grab the massage oil before opening it and beginning to lightly pour it over his arms as you explain your movements, “since this is your first time I’ll start off slow. I’m going to pour this oil over the parts of the body you feel need the most attention, okay? For now, I’ll massage your arms.”

Leon listens closely to your instructions, his eyes flick down to the oil that begins to roll down his arm until you reach out and begin slathering the slippery liquid across his warm skin. As soon as your fingers grace Leon’s skin you feel your brain begin to short-circuit. His arms are so firm, it takes you a second to properly grip his arm so that you're massaging him more effectively. You do your best to not imagine how his arm would feel wrapped around you as you begin the session. Instead, you let your eyes wander across his chest (which also turned out to be a bad idea) where you’re met with his broad shoulders and defined collarbone that you want to sink your teeth in. As beautiful as he is you also can’t help but notice various cuts and bruises on his skin, some looking fresh as a red tint surrounds the cuts and a blue color defining his upcoming bruises.

“I’m fine.”

You startle at hearing a voice call out to you. Your eyes quickly flick up to find Leon looking at you, his eyes almost glowing under the light of the candles, and yet his voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…” you trail off, embarrassment flooding through your skin.

Leon studies you for a moment, his whole body still, almost disguising his presence as you try to focus on the massage before he sighs and finally speaks, “no, I’m sorry if that came off rude. I got these from work…”

“Do you always suffer from injuries like these?” you ask, your voice tinted with worry as you furrow your eyebrows.

To your surprise, Leon smirks when he sees the expression on your face. His lips curl up dangerously, subtly, as if amused before he answers. “If I’m lucky. Today wasn’t too bad. They’ll heal.”

You don’t like how dismissive he is of his injuries but you supposed him coming down to a spa was a way for him to try to relax and take his mind off of his strenuous job. You redouble your efforts, determined to give this man the best massage of his life. For a while you’re able to do this, your eyes focusing on his pressure points as you massage his arms. From time to time your eyes glance up to catch Leon already looking at you, his eyes watching you with a glimmer of something that you can’t discern.

“Is there something wrong? Am I applying too much pressure?” you question hesitantly after catching him looking at you for the fifth time.

He shakes his head, his eyes still attached to yours, “no, sorry if I was making you uncomfortable. I guess I was just trying to get a read on you. You seem young, but by the looks of it you’ve been doing this for awhile.”

Did he want to learn more about you? You pushed the thought away quickly, he was probably just trying to make casual conversation. You answered with a small smile, “I’ve always liked making people feel good. As a kid that was in the form of giving my mom really bad back massages that she pretended wasn’t practically cracking her spine,” you see Leon’s chest heave up and down slightly as he chuckles quietly, “seriously though, something about giving someone a massage is just… fulfilling to me. It’s intimate, quiet, and serene. It’s just as relaxing for me as it is for my clients sometimes…”

Leon observes the way your voice becomes softer, and more thoughtful as you speak. He smiles at your words, this time allowing you to see his shiny teeth and you feel your heartbeat speed up knowing you were able to draw that kind of expression out of him.

“I admire your passion. I’m sure this job isn’t easy.”

“‘I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you have to do.”

“Doesn’t matter which one is harder. The point is that you like what you do and you do it well. That requires a lot of patience and discipline. You should take pride in that.”

You feel your eyes widen slightly at Leon’s words, sincerity pouring through his tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture you…” Leon huffs out a humorless laugh as he turns to look away from you, his eyes tracing the lines on the ceiling.

“You weren’t. I appreciate it, Leon,” you say honestly with a small smile as you finish massaging his arms. You turn around to face the clock that hangs on the wall, “we have about 45 minutes left. Is there any other area you’d like me to show attention to?”

Leon seems to think for a moment, his icy-blue eyes traveling over to you before he speaks, “would you be okay with massaging my legs? My job today required a lot of running and I can tell I’m going to wake up sore in the morning.”

You nod before moving down to his legs and cautiously moving the sheet up until it’s lying halfway across his thighs. You do your best not to stare at his toned legs as you begin pouring more massage oil on him before pressing your thumbs into his calves. You continue massaging the different parts of Leon’s legs, the oil glistening off of his skin while the candlelights reflect a warm glow onto him. You gradually move higher and higher up his leg until you press down on his inner thigh absentmindedly when you're brought back to the present after hearing a noise escape from Leon’s lips.

Fear spreads through you as you quickly pull your hands away from him as if he was a fire.

“A-are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” you ask frantically, your eyes wide with worry.

Looking at Leon however, you’re met with an interesting sight. Rather than the scowl or grimace you were expecting to see you notice a slight tinge of red dusting over his cheeks. Was he blushing? He quickly meets your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed slightly but not in annoyance at you as he speaks lowly, “I’m fine, sorry if I startled you. I closed my eyes momentarily and when you pressed into my thigh it just-” he cuts himself off, promptly clearing his throat and stealing his expression. “I was just surprised is all.”

You look at him, studying his behavior with confusion pooling into your eyes as you speak up hesitantly, “did you… want me to stop? I can always begin working on your back if you feel uncomfortable.”

“No… you don’t need to stop. You’re doing fine, really. I was just… taken aback.” while he speaks politely, you can just barely pick up a shred of something else in his eyes. A flash of… want?

Before you can dissect the look further Leon leans back down and closes his eyes. You take a second to register what just happened before cautiously reaching out and massaging the skin just below his thigh, your brain whirring with thoughts… a lot of them are unprofessional and would most likely get you fired if you acted on them and especially if it was unwarranted. But you can’t help but wonder if Leon didn’t want you to stop because it felt… good?

What would happen if you raised your hand just a bit higher?

Your eyes glance up to look at Leon whose eyes are still closed shut, his breathing even. You glance back down to your hands around his knee and tentatively begin moving your hand higher up on his leg. You stop halfway up his thigh where you had left off and ever so gently press into his inner thigh, his skin folding under your touch. Once again a noise escapes Leon’s lips, but this time you can discern what it is. A quiet small moan slips through his pink lips.

You can barely believe what you’re hearing. You manage to not freak out and continue massaging his thigh, this time adding even more pressure as your thumbs slide over the skin on his inner thigh. Again, another moan escapes Leon’s lips and it’s incredibly sexy.

Before you can continue, however, you see Leon suddenly open his eyes in shock, as if he had been in a daze. His gaze darts over to you, “I’m sorry…” he begins, “I didn’t mean to- that was unprofessional of me. I don’t usually… I’ve never…”

You watch in amusement as Leon begins floundering over his words, surprised to see the seemingly cool-headed federal agent flustered over your touch. With a calming breath, you muster all your strength to prepare yourself for what you’re about to say and pray that you won’t regret it.

With a determined expression, you give Leon a look that stops him from talking, your eyes piercing into his as you speak with an air of confidence despite you wanting to throw up on the inside. “It’s okay. I did it on purpose.” Leon squares you with a confused look as you continue talking, “I told my boss that I would satisfy you. I was instructed to help you relax and to take care of you. And like you said… I’m very passionate about this job.”

You watch as Leon takes in your words, you can practically see the gears in his head turning as he takes in what you’re proposing. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long second, his eyebrows knitted in concern, unsure if you’re being serious.

You nod, “if you can’t trust my words…will you trust my actions?”

The man before you eyes you warily. A specific and stringent tension begins to fill the air, the feeling so palpable that you can practically feel it prickle your skin. You don’t even realize the breath you’ve been holding in your chest as you await Leon’s response until he finally speaks, his voice low and quiet.

“Help me relax, _____.”

That’s all it takes for you to continue your massage, but this time you let your hands roam freely. You start back up at his thigh, your hands sinking into his malleable skin as a small soft huff of air leaves Leon’s lips. You continue your climb up his leg until your hand eventually reaches underneath the towel, you can see the growing tent of Leon’s desires and smile up at the man before looking back down.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing this…” you say softly before pulling the towel off and revealing all of Leon, his bare body completely and utterly at your mercy.

One of Leon’s arms props him up on the bench as he stares at you, a small smirk clearly expressed on his lips. “Impatient?”

“Eager.”

Leon’s eyes glimmer at your words before you rest your hands on the base of his shaft, your attention drifting from Leon’s face down to his pretty cock. It’s perfectly trimmed and curves upwards at a beautiful angle. You can see the faint outlines of his blue veins that run up and down his shaft. You trace your oiled index finger over them delicately eliciting a shaky breath from the man you have cupped in your hands.

You smirk seductively, your plump lips curling upwards before you put your mouth to good use and lean down, your tongue making contact first as it swirls around the pink glistening tip slowly. The taste of Leon’s precum is surprisingly pleasant- or as pleasant as precum can be. You supposed his job kept him in shape along with whatever healthy diet he probably has set for himself.

“That’s it…” you hear Leon praise quietly, his voice warm and intimate. “Do you mind if I hold your hair back?”

You shake your head as you open your mouth a bit more, your lips closing fully around Leon’s tip and sucking slightly. As you do so you feel Leon’s expansive hand entangle itself in your hair, holding it up gently. You open your mouth more, feeling like you’ve teased him enough, and begin to take him in your mouth, his shaft fitting snugly in your mouth. Your hands move from his base to fondle his clean-looking balls while your mouth entertains his cock, you feel his tip hit the back of your throat before you’re able to fully take him in. He wasn’t huge, but he was big enough to have you needing to take a breath after feeling him hit you in the back of your throat.

“Don’t strain yourself.” the statement was supposed to come off as comforting but when your eyes looked up to look at Leon you knew it was anything but. He was teasing you and the now smug smile on his lips was a big indicator of that.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” you snapped back with the same teasing tone in your voice.

You turned your attention back to Leon’s dick before using your hands to pump him from the base, they were lubricated enough from the massage oil to set a quick pace while your mouth latched back on to the tip before you opened your mouth further to take more of him.

“That’s a good girl…” Leon’s gruff voice called out from above you, his hand still in your hair but gripping it a bit harder.

You feel your core ache with need at the praise, oddly satisfied to have this man’s approval as you continue working his cock in your mouth. The texture of his veins slides against the walls of your mouth, and your tongue runs against them, flicking over the long lines. Your hands continue their ministration of pumping the base of Leon’s shaft, they slide over him easily.

From the side you begin to hear Leon’s breathing pick up, the sound harsh and impatient. You continue sucking him for a few more seconds before popping your mouth off of him and smirking triumphantly at him, “don’t strain yourself, now.” you say mockingly as you observe the way Leon has his bottom lip crushed between his teeth, “should I let you cum in my mouth?” you ask with mock innocence.

Before you can revel in your temporary victory at seeing Leon succumb to your mouth Leon sits up abruptly, his hand that was propping him up leaves the bench to lightly grab your chin and bring your lips to his. The movement momentarily shocks you but you quickly get yourself under control and kiss him back eagerly.

Your lips slot together perfectly, he feels so soft against you despite his callused hand tracing your jawline and down to the back of your neck, adding a bit of pressure to pull you closer to him.

“I’d prefer… doing that inside you with your permission,” Leon mumbles into the kiss, his tongue running across your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth.

“Fuck…” you whisper, too consumed by his lips over yours to come up with something more coherent to say.

You feel Leon laugh slightly against you before he finally pulls back, his lips glistening and wet just like the rest of his body. Your hands absentmindedly trail across his slippery chest, your hands brushing against his pert nipples.

“You…” he says after letting you explore his chest for a minute, “are severely overdressed,” he says before leaning into your space, his mouth traveling over to your ear as he whispers sultrily, “take this off,” he commands you feel him tug at your shirt.

You nod, swiftly discarding your shirt and leaving you in your lacy black bra. For once you’re proud you didn’t wear a sports bra like you usually do despite how comfortable they are.

Turning back to Leon, you’re met with his gaze solely glued to your chest. His hands come up as he gingerly traces the frilly lace on top of your bra. Despite him not touching you yet, your skin burns, eager to feel his strong hands caress and squeeze you.

“Beautiful…” you hear him whisper lowly.

Without warning you see Leon duck down before you lose focus when you feel his tongue poke out to lick over your covered nipple through the lace. The feeling is euphoric as you feel his other hand massage your other breast slowly. After a second you feel his hand leave your chest and travel to your back where he fiddles with the clasp for a second before suddenly the bra hangs loosely from your chest.

“You seem to know your way around a bra…” you sigh, eyeing him with mock suspicion.

His eyes twinkle with something as he leans back to observe you once you let the bra fall from your chest. Rather than answer though, after he’s gotten an eyeful he leans back over to you and pushes his lips back onto you. This time the kiss is slower and sweeter as your lips push and pull against each other. As you kiss Leon’s hands travel up your body until both of his hands are cupping your breasts. He takes a second to feel them, his rough hands warm against your cool skin before his index finger and thumb wrap around your nipples and squeeze them slightly.

You break off the kiss to moan softly, the pressure from his fingers on your nipples sending a string of pleasure through you and down to your core. Leon eyes your reaction, a pleasantly surprised look glimmering in his eyes as he smirks at you. Before you have time to recover you feel Leon duck back down before sucking on your nipple, his teeth nibbling slightly as he alternates between your two breasts. The pleasure and pain blend perfectly and you can’t help but arch your back the more he bites your nipples before soothing the pain with a soft lick of his tongue.

“Leon…” you gasp, your hands landing on the federal agent’s strong shoulders.

“Do you want more, _____?” he asks, taking his mouth off of your hard nipple.

You nod, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you try to get yourself together.

“I want to hear you say it. What do you want from me, _____?” You feel Leon’s breath hit your ear, the smell of the lavender and cinnamon massage oil taking over your senses and easing the tension in your body.

You wanted this man bad.

With a shaky breath, you tear your gaze away from the ceiling to look down at Leon. “I want you to fuck me.”

At your words of admission, an almost tender smile graces Leon’s face as he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “that’s all I needed to hear.”

Swiftly, Leon has your pants and underwear pulled off and sits on the edge of the bench. He taps his thighs before looking back at you, “don’t worry. I’ll be holding you the entire time.”

You sigh, eyeing him warily before biting your lip and climbing onto him. True to his word as soon as your thighs are pressed to his, his hands latch onto your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“Now just lift your hips up for me…”

Leon’s voice is soft yet stern as he looks down to eye your movements. You carefully lift yourself up before centering yourself. Leon gives you a nod before you sink down on top of him. A loud moan escapes the both of you as your body stretches a bit to accommodate him. Luckily, you were already wet enough beforehand so Leon didn’t need to worry about warming you up. As you both take a second to adjust you latch your hands around his neck, pressing your body against his as you bite back a moan and stare deeply into Leon’s icy-blue eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asks after a second passes.

You nod, “ready.”

You then begin to slowly test the waters, setting a steady pace, and begin riding him. You’re careful at first, letting your body get used to Leon before quickly picking up the pace. The feeling of Leon’s thick cock running deep inside you has you moaning in a matter of minutes as you squeeze him tightly, a tumble of curses falling from his clenched teeth as his hands hold on to you tighter the faster you move.

“Fuck… you feel amazing…” he grunts, his body glistening with both massage oil and sweat as your eyes take in the sight before you.

“You too…” you moan your eyes drinking him in, “you’re definitely the sexiest client I’ve ever had.”

He laughs airly, his eyes opening briefly to look at you, “I’m sure you say that to every client.”

You know he’s joking but you feel the need to clarify to him anyway, “I mean it. I’ve never done this with a client before and… ever since you walked in I’ve had a hard time being professional. That’s why I was so excited when you first moaned when I touched your thigh.”

You see a slight blush cross over Leon’s cheeks. Whether it’s from him having to keep you upright or because of your words you’re not sure, but it looks cute on him regardless.

“Since we’re both confessing. I thought you looked extremely sexy when I first saw you. I actually planned on skipping this because it was my coworkers who had initially signed me up for this but…” he pauses, his eyes full of sincerity as he speaks, “I’m glad I didn’t.”

This time it’s you who’s blushing as you take in his words. Leon simply smiles brightly at you before crashing his lips against yours, his grip on you tightening as you begin moving faster against him, your hips rolling smoothly over his cock. After a few more minutes the heat that has been building in your core finally begins to overwhelm you, your breath coming out in harsh pants as you whisper harshly into the kiss with Leon, “I-I’m close…”

He nods, holding you close before pecking you once again on the lips, his voice quiet and husky as he leans into your ear, “come for me, _____. Let go…”

As if earning his permission your body lets go as the heat envelopes you, caressing your body and filling your entire body with pleasure as you tense up at the intense feeling, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast as you let out a loud moan.

At hearing and seeing your climax Leon quickly follows suit, his eyes squeezing shut, his mouth falling open as a sexy groan fills the air. His breathing is ragged and you feel his hold on you tighten even more. You can feel him fill you up as you begin to come down from your high. You squeeze a bit tighter on him to milk him even more earning a sly smirk from him as he tries to get himself together after finishing.

As you both come back to your senses you can’t help the small smile you have on your face as you gaze at Leon. The glow from his orgasm made him look even more alluring than he already did. You lift your hands to push his light brown hair out of his face. As you play with his hair you feel him grab your wrist lightly before bringing it down to his lips where he presses a feather-light kiss to your pulse point.

“I had a great time,” he says lowly, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Same here…” you sigh, sagging your body against him as his hands wrap around you, holding you in place.

“I think my session is up though.”

You sigh, your ear pressed to his chest as you listen to his heartbeat.

“But I’d like to make a reservation for another session in a few days if you’re available.”

You lift your face off of his chest to stare at him in disbelief, you figured this was a one-and-done deal. “You want to do this again?”

He nods, clearly amused at your reaction as a gentle smile takes over his face, “of course. You were able to take my mind off of my job and that’s a pretty damn hard thing to do.”

You smile widely at the man before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I’d be honored to take you on as a client, Leon S. Kennedy.”

Leon chuckles as he kisses you back before pulling back and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know you still have your free sauna that comes with your package. You could redeem that for your next session.” You inform with a smile.

Leon looks at you before a twinkle appears in his eyes as he pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping more protectively around you as he speaks softly, “as long as you join me… I’d be down for anything.”

You seal the deal with a tender kiss, entangled in one another’s arms as the smell of lavender and cinnamon cascade over you, the candlelights flickering gently around you.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon x reader #one shot #smut #re4 smut #re4 leon #re4 x reader #re4make #re4 #video games #x reader

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synamoly · 1 year

Text

INK, E. YAEGER

tags/warnings: black coded! fem! reader + tattoo artist! eren, spanking (brief), breeding kink, mating press, unprotected sex, size difference, slight manhandling | 1.3k words

a.n: tis an apology for my slow updates to eternal

tattoo artist eren! who’s amassed millions of followers through his incredible tattoo skills. he only follows you on all of his accounts, even his professional account. he knows you hate it and he doesn’t care, even if the two of you are supposed to be separated for reasons still unresolved. your account is private, so fans are left curious about your connection to the famous tattoo artist.

tattoo artist eren! who’s pretty secretive about his life, enough for his followers to wonder what your importance is to him. enough for them to not know that you are the mother of his 6 month old daughter, noelle.

tattoo artist eren! who never misses any of noelle’s milestones despite your separation. calling you because he knows that today she turns six months old.

"bring her over today." with furrowed eyebrows, you shift your phone between your head and shoulders as you change yet another diaper. eren can hear her coos in the background. it only makes him miss her more—and you, but he's not sure if he's allowed to admit that.

"can’t, i’m about to drop her off at my parents house for a couple hours. i already promised them." you can hear him suck his teeth at your response.

"stop by the shop then, i wanna see my baby.” you sigh, not wanting to take any detours despite agreeing. besides, you can't make any excuses, especially since you have to drive past his shop to get to your parents house. eren hasn't seen noelle in a couple weeks due to work and you know how much he hates leaving her.

"fine, i’ll be there soon." you can already see the smirk on his face. he thanks you before you can hang up. you huff, leaning down to lift noelle with a kiss to her cheek, all fresh and clean now. "wanna see your papa today, huh baby?"

tattoo artist eren! who still can’t keep his eyes off you when you walk in with a long, cream colored maxi dress adorning your pretty brown skin. he greets you with a longer than needed hug, letting his hands linger on your lower back before eagerly reaching out for his baby. you can’t help but smile as he gives her a mini tour of his shop. he holds her with only one of his strong arms, his dark tattoos contrasting noelle's pink onesie.

tattoo artist eren! who makes you laugh when noelle begins crying in his arms. no matter what he tries, from gentle rocking to even making silly faces, she won’t stop. and you know exactly why she’s crying. he looks to you and all you can do is open your arms.

"oh, are you hungry sweet girl? you didn't wanna eat earlier." eren merely watches as you pull the straps of your dress down. her wails simmer down within seconds, mouth quickly finding your swollen nipple. you gently rub her back as she drinks, humming a small tune as well. you find yourself distracted, forgetting about eren's gaze until he speaks.

breastfeeding your child in your ex’s tattoo shop, huh.

"she eats a lot, doesn't she?" you nod.

"mhm, i wonder who she gets it from." he chuckles but doesn't say anything in return. the two of you merely observe the beautiful being you created together.

tattoo artist eren! who always seems to end up making your business his, closing up shop and tagging along with you to your parents. how you ended up in the passenger seat of your own car will be talked about another day. something about you being a bad driver. okay, you’ll let it slide. but you do know that little voice in your head is telling you that you didn’t need his help with grocery shopping…or carrying the groceries into your apartment.

tattoo artist eren! who makes you a babbling mess with his cock on your living room couch. your poor dress is stretched between erens fingers as he drives his cock into your sopping pussy. you feel stupid for allowing this happen, but you’ll think about that when his cock isn’t so deep in your tummy. he’s made you cum twice already, your poor couch cushions are soaked.

his hand releases your dress, stilling inside you just to push your dress all the way up your chest, just enough to reveal the tattoo down your spine. the one he did himself. the fine lines of black ink against your brown skin look oh so pretty. his hands smooth down your back, thumbs adding a gentle pressure to your spine. completely aware of your sensitivity to his touch.

pleasepleaseplease.

“missed you like this...” he murmurs, you hate how calm and collected he can be when he fucks you like this. he pays attention to all the little moans, breaths and shivers he gets out of you. how you’re dripping around him, how deep his cock is in you. “did you miss me too?” with your face buried into your forearms for any sort of stability, you can only glare at him through the side of your eye. tears beading at the corners. your lack of response irritates him.

“huh?” he raises his hand, landing on your ass with just enough pressure to sting. you yelp, the pain sending little bits of electricity to your pussy. “use your words.”

“m-missed you too! i missed you so much…!” the corners of his lip curve upward ever so slightly, satisfied with your answer. flipping you on your back, his hands push your legs back until your knees are against your chest. your eyes now see his full, disheveled appearance. his hair tie is long gone, letting those pretty tresses loose. a thin sheen of sweat over his tattoos on his chest. there’s a dark, almost scary look in his eyes. the last time eren was like this resulted in the birth of noelle.

his heavy cock rests in between your cunt, coated in all of your slick. he leans down, his gold chain brushing against your chest. his brown hair tickles your forehead, deep green eyes piercing into your own. your lips connect with his before he can. he missed those soft lips of yours, deepening the kiss until all he can hear is wet sounds and your little whimpers spilling into the kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him closer to you. he doesn’t break the kiss when he presses his leaky tip against your hole, swallowing your moan when he presses in further all the way until he’s almost kissing your cervix.

he starts with slow, controlled thrusts before releasing the kiss and putting your legs over his shoulders. by now you can’t control your voice, and eren couldn’t be more happy. he can’t last long with a pussy like this, the way your walls flutter around him should be considered a crime. you’re squirming underneath him, your sweet essence dripping down his balls with every deep thrust. manicured nails brushing against his pelvis in an attempt to gently relieve some of the pressure.

he shakes his head, swatting away your fingers. “what happened to my big girl? take your dick like you used to.”

“s’been awhile…! i-i haven’t slept with anyone since you.” your voice gets quieter towards the end, turning your head to avoid his gaze.

his eyes soften, “fuck…you make it so hard for me to not put another baby in you, you know?” you scoff.

“very funny eren.” he sits up, running a hand through his tousled hair before he practically folds you in half.

“i’m not playing.”

tattoo artist eren! who receives a perplexed look from your parents—more specifically, your father. when he shows up right next to you at their door, ready to pick up noelle. your mother knows what’s going on, leaving you embarrassed when she gives you the all knowing look.

the call from your mother that night goes just how you expected.

“playing around like that is how i ended up with your brother.” you laugh, but you know there’s an underlying message in her words.

“i know, there’s just no getting rid of him.” you say, brushing his fly always from his sleeping face. the heavy arm currently wrapped around your waist is proof enough.

“oh honey, i know. i tried with your dad.”

#black reader #eren jaeger x black reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yaeger x you #eren x you #x black reader #eren yaeger headcanons #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x black reader

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emsgwenstan · 5 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Chap 2 | chap 3 | chap 4

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader.

Words: 2k

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety.

Note: what is violet making? Haha. God the obsession is becoming clear I’d say. X

———

Thursday came and went quickly, it’s currently Friday and 4 in the afternoon, with each passing day it seems to be getting colder and colder. Larissa sent me a screenshotted booking at a restaurant In Burlington reserved for 6:30, by the looks of it, its 5 star and very luxurious, she also said she’ll pick me up. I’m knocking off earlier than usual, hopefully finishing in half an hour. I sent her my address in return.

Im so excited, but I know it’s strictly a professional dinner between two adult woman, who might I add, has already shared an awkward moment that I can’t go back from. I’ll just pretend it never happened. But I wanted it to. I gathered the mahogany off cuts from the racks and placed them on my bench to start Monday, prepped the sandpaper and sander blowing out all the dust from the previous projects just to fill in time until I leave.

Dragging my bag slung over my shoulder and pulling out my hair tie to release the tension in my head, I turn off the lights and shut down the compressors finally leaving the vicinity until next week. Ducking out the front, I unlocked my car and threw in my belongings before starting the short 4 minute drive home. Regathering my things and making it to the front door I fumbled with the keys before dropping them to the ground. Not now. Short tempered me bent down, snatched the keys and practically ripped open the door.

Stepping inside placing my Keys in the dish on the hall stand, I took a deep breath trying to calm down. Wandering further into the house I made it to my room carelessly flinging my bag on the bed. I went looking for my tv remote to flick on for background noise, but of course it was no where in sight. 20 minutes of searching, I found it on the floor under my bed, irritated again, I put on a random movie and tore off my work clothes to have a shower and wash my hair, hopefully a scalp massage will help with my impending headache.

Stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel in front of the vanity, I wiped the mirror of steam just for it to re-form again, I used another towel to dry my hair as much as I could before blow drying it. My headache is mostly gone but I still have irritability in my system almost as if I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can’t pin point the exact reason behind it, but I just need to push though and finish my hair and do my make up, I’m sure everything is going to be fine.

Doing the finishing touches on my makeup my hands start trembling wildly when I remember i haven’t eaten a thing today, probably just low blood sugar. Except my breathing becomes erratic, I walk out of the ensuite and sit on the edge of the bed for 5 minutes. Feeling up to it i pace to the dresser and pull out my underwear and slip them on and walk to my closet to find something to wear. I haven’t touched any of this for a very long time, I hardly remember what i have, most of my clothes are black with bits of burgundy and purples, possibly one or two things white or cream.

Dress after dress, skirt after skirt, blouses and pants strewn around my room and on the floor, not a fucking thing is right, isn’t what I want, doesn’t look right or good, fits weirdly. I hadn’t relised how much time i spent on looking and trying on clothes as there was a knock at the door, my stomach churned at the thought of not being ready for Larissa. I’m always on time, if not always early, I throw on a robe and hesitantly walk the length of the hallway to the door, I looked in the mirror on the wall seeing my eyes are bloodshot and a frown line indented between my brows, she’s going to be so disappointed in me.

Upon opening the door Larissa was breath taking, her hair styled in a low bun with her usual side part and dressed in a navy blue dress shorter than her normal work ones, white heels higher and a blue with white detailing coat to tie it all together, her lips painted in a darker shade of red as well as darker eyeshadow, also holding a small white purse. I could have collapsed at the sight of her, but knowing I have to face the inevitable disappointment, I clung to the door’s architrave.

“Violet… are you alright?” She asked concerned at my state. I let out a small huff annoyed at myself for causing a problem. I looked deep into her eyes telling her without words that I’m really not ok. “Come in.” I said opening the door widder for her to step in. She did, walking in past me she turned on the spot, observing, trying to understand the situation. I move toward her taking her wrist pulling her towards my room. Larissa took in the little bits she could view of my home, before I led her into the bedroom. I let go of her wrist and walked further into the messy room.

Turning to face her i splayed out my arms, gesturing to the state of everything. “None of it fits.” I said dropping my arms to my sides. “What do you mean darling?” She asked, still a little confused. “I mean every single thing in my wardrobe is to big, I haven’t a thing to wear.” I said, crouching down and pick the items of clothing off the floor angrily tossing them to the bed. Larissa walked a little further to bend at the knees and crouch down to take my hands in her own. “Violet.” She said. I didn’t stop, still trying to pick things up. “Violet stop sweetheart.” She gently commanded. At that I did, Larissa slowly stood pulling me with her and placing me down on my bed in a sitting position. She took to sitting beside me still holding my hands. “I’m sorry, I just- I just don’t have anything, I wanted to be ready before you got here an-.” I blurted. “It’s ok.” She said. “Don’t worry about it.”.

I sat in silence, until I could feel my nose go funny and my eyes starting to water. I’ll be damned letting Larissa see me cry. I shot up causing her to jump a little. “Just give me a minute sorry.” I shakily said walking briskly back into the ensuite and closing the door. I turned the tap on and looked at myself In the mirror, the tears flowing down my cheeks and a sob trying to crawl it’s way up my throat, I cover my my mouth trying not to make a noise. I was in there for about a minute not wanting to keep her waiting, cleaning the tears that have slightly ruined my make up and made mascara run all the way down my neck, I pat myself with the edge of a hand towel, turning off the tap and plastering on a smile, I re-opened the door to find Larissa had picked up most of the clothes on the floor.

She faced me with a sympathetic smile and tossed the shirt she was holding on the bed before coming up to me and stopping. Extending her hand up to my face she used the pad of her thumb to wipe a smudge of black from the corner of my eye, she used her other hand to cup my cheek and pull me into a hug. It’s been so long, it’s been so so long, I’ve missed this. Her hand wrapped around the backs of my shoulders and one on my head. I exhaled before breathing her back in, her scent, her perfume, her smell.

I pulled away not looking at her, feeling like it’s enough physical touch for now, how is it I’ve known Larissa for less than a week and she already feels like home, I don’t understand. “Just give me a moment, Ill actually put clothes on.” I said pulling out a sweater and sweat pants from the pile. Turing around I walked back towards the door stopping outside it telling her to make herself comfortable in the lounge room and I won’t be long.

Larissa complied and took a seat on the couch, she absorbed her surroundings, taking in my own decor, the large book shelf full of books, the arm chair in the corner with a tall lamp standing beside it, the large fire place with a big dark green and tan rug resting in front of it, the vaulted ceilings and simple yet elegant light hanging from one of the beams. Moving on the spot, was the kitchen behind her, the black marble bench tops secured to forest green cupboards and the same for the overhead cabinets with glass pains in the doors and little plants next to the sink in the island bench. She saw a lot of me in the rooms and smiled at the thought.

I opened the door stepping out in the old baggy clothes. Sitting next to Larissa I stared at the flames flickering within the fireplace. “I’m so sorry Larissa I didn’t plan this, I should have bought something yesterday.” I said. “What do you have?” She asked. I shifted to face her. “What?” I wondered. “What do you have in your pantry, I’ll cook something for us?” She questioned. I sat there looking at her wondering why the hell she hasn’t left angry yet. “I don’t care about going. I just hope your ok, would you like me to stay?” It was silent before I whispered. “Yes.”. Larissa pulled out her phone and obviously cancelled the booking.

I got up and opened the pantry, I could hear Larissa’s shoeless feet pad behind me and come to a stop. I took a step back letting her look for herself. She seemed to pick out a pack of fettuccine and a few things like crushed tomatoes, garlic, onion and herbs, stepping back she placed the ingredients on the bench. “Up for spaghetti?” She asked, I smiled and turned to the freezer and picked out a pack of mince. “And meatballs?” I asked. Larissa chuckled “and meatballs.” She replied.

Standing in the kitchen together was nice. She took the reins and somehow managed to make her way around, finding all the utensils, pots and pans she needed. I sat on top of the bench watching her flit about, I did ask if she wanted help but Larissa declined the offer. After a while I could tell she was getting hot and grabbed her shoulder spinning her around to face her back towards me as I peeled off her coat, Larissa let out a breath. “Thank you, I was getting a bit hot.” She laughed. I folded the coat and hopped off the bench to lay it on the back of the lounge. Walking back I stood beside her at the stove. “You know for some who has a big kitchen and makes them for a living, I hate cooking.” I stated, chuckling looking at her side profile. A grin spread across her face.

Larissa stepped back and leaned against the island bench with her hands clamped to the edges, she observed my jumper with a smirk. “Do I have something on me, is it stained?” I asked looking for possible marks. “No it’s just, the Colour… it’s violet.” She giggled. “Oh shut up.” I said rolling my eyes. “Anyway.” I started. “How was work today?” She took a moment to visibly recall her day. “It was… something.” She trailed. “I had detention with a group of four boys and it seemed to have turned into a therapy session. It was so odd, but very eye opening I guess, I didn’t expect it in the slightest.” She finished. “Wow, headmistress and therapist. What else?” I asked spinning around to pull out two wine glasses from the cabinets above me. Larissa shook her head and let out a little tsk. “God knows, I’m constantly surprised at the things that go on in my life.” She said.

“Are you a wine person by any chance?” I asked temporarily off topic. “Yes.” She answered. “Red, white or rosé?” I asked placing the glass on the counter. “Red, please.” Larissa hadn’t noticed the wine rack under the bench she was leaning against, I bent down and was just about eye level with her abdomen when I pulled out a bottle beside her. “So constantly on your toes than?” I asked referring back to the initial conversation. “Always. I think my job is easier when I have students that are troubled and I can connect with them about something so small, that gives them a sense of reassurance their not alone. It also feels less dawning on me, just so I don’t seem annoying to get them to open up.” She ended. I passed her a glass and watched her take a sip, her eyes involuntarily closed and she let out a small hum at the taste. I could feel my cheeks heating.

“That’s good than, I love kids, all ages to. I have a niece and she’s four I love her to death, I loved her mom and other auntie to bits to when they were kids.” I said reminiscing when Louise and jade were little. “Oh you have siblings?” She asked. “You don’t?” I asked back. “No, only child I’m afraid.” She said taking a sip and placing the glass back on the counter to tend to the stove and turn it off. “Well technically, their my half siblings on my dads side, but I will still call them my sisters no matter what. I mean I practically raised them.” I said pulling out two plates and cutlery. “So your the eldest I presume?” She asked dishing up the plates. “Yeah, I was ten when the first was born and twelve with the second.” I said picking up the plate. “Do you mind if we sit in the lounge room? Is so cold in the dining.” I asked. “Of course.” She said picking up her plate and wine glass, I did the same and placed my own glass on the floor plucking two cushions from the couch and tossing them on the floor for us to sit on.

“So where are they now?” She asked, digging into her food. “About 5 hours away.” I said. “So your not from Jericho?” She questioned. “No I moved here about 15 years ago.” I said not elaborating on why. “How is it I haven’t seen you around before?” She asked. “I don’t get out much.” I answered, beginning to eat my dinner. Fuck it was good, Larissa knows how to cook. For a while we just sat and ate, I stoll glances of her and tried so hard to not make it as though I was staring.

Our dishes discarded on the the floor and legs tucked behind ourselves, Larissa broke the silence. “I hope it was ok for me to stay, you could have told me to leave if you wanted to be alone.” She said peering over at me. The fire light was licking at her skin so beautifully, the glow made her look even more incredible. “I would have if I didn’t want you here.” I said sincerely. Larissa looked at her watch and her face contorted into a sad expression. “It’s getting quite late I should probably go soon, I’ll help tidy the kitchen.” She said. “No don’t even think about it, I can do that, you’ve done enough already, I appreciate the offer though.” I said. Larissa looked away for a moment, but her eyes fell upon a book I had resting on the small coffee table beside the lounge.

“Is that the book you bought the other day?… may I?” She asked gesturing towards it. “Yeah go ahead.” She pulled the book toward herself and flipped open to the page that had a bookmark wedged with it. “For eternity, the most beautiful things to me about you, are the things you won’t ever know about yourself. Things only I know of, because everyday I read you like a book that has never been read. Your beautiful cover with your inspiring title and amazing story held captive my curiosity. Now everyday I yearn to learn from your mystery.” I watched as she was reading, her eyes scanning through the piece of literature and her red lips forming the words, I had in fact already read that particular poem, but when it came from her I felt like I could just float into an abyss somewhere, I could hear it forever. I could hear her forever.

“I like that.” She said softly, she flipped the page back and read a couple more silently, before closing it and resting it back on the table. Larissa slowly stood and picked up my plate taking it with her back to the kitchen. I rose slowly having to hold onto the couch for support, work has really taken a toll on my body. Larissa came back to toe on her heals and rounded the lounge to meet me holding out her coat for her to slip back into. “I’ve had a wonderful evening Violet.” She said looking into my eyes. “Ditto… and I’m sorry again, but I’m sure your cooking was better than what that restaurant had to offer anyway.” I said with a smile. “Thank you, it was quite good wasn’t it?” She said with a self satisfactory smirk. “Absolutely delicious, are you going to be alright driving home, not tipsy are you?” I asked. “No I have an impeccable tolerance, thanks for the concern.” She said pulling out her keys from her pocket.

I lead Larissa to the door and open it for her. We both stood awkwardly in the doorway waiting for each other to say something. “Thank you again for the wonderful evening vi. I’ll be seeing you soon I hope.” Vi, oh my god, my nickname, this along with darling and sweetheart, I may faint. “Yes I’ll let you know when I’m ready to install at the school. I have something else for you to.” I said. “Really, what is it?” She questioned. “Uh uh, it’s a surprise, be patient and you’ll see.” I remarked with a sickeningly sweet tone. Larissa laughed and nodded. “Ok than.” She jested. Another stretch of silence radiated between us. Larissa leaned forward and without thinking of what was going on I stood completely still, she kissed my cheek and winked, Larissa without a word stepped out of the threshold and paced to her car.

Opening her door, she looked back at me. “Excuse my language, but it’s fucking freezing.” She called out. I just about died laughing, causing her to giggle. “It’s ok, I mean it is really fucken cold.” I said mocking her, crossing my arms to somehow get warmer. Larissa took the opportunity to slide into her car and turn it on, reversing out I could just make out her hand waving goodbye as she drove off. I returned the wave and closed the door locking it behind me. A feeling of emptiness washed over me as I wandered back into the kitchen, I gathered all of the dishes and put them into the dish washer and wiped down the benches.

A yawn escaped my mouth when I threw on another piece of wood on the fire, walking to turn off all the lights and make my way to my room, my eye was caught by Larissa’s purse resting on the floor next to the cushion she was sat on. I picked it up and smiled at the label Dior of course. Hesitantly I opened it and saw the contents within, a lipstick, wad of cash and a small vile of perfume. The perfume was the only thing that interested me, I wanted to smell her, feel close to her, closer than I know we’ll ever be.

I’ll find time to return it to as soon as I can possibly tomorrow, but for now I’m going to bed, my cold, empty and lonely bed.

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant

@barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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