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cloudlessly-light · 6 days

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The darkest parts of me (4/5)

A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter, a part of this is Hotchniss being very toxic towards each other (they’re serial killers so I think that might be a little expected), BUT I want to give a warning for that, and that part starts after *-* so jump to the next part if you don’t want to read that part!

Title: The darkest parts of me (4/5) Summary: They find each other in a dark world where they do twisted things. The only way things could have become more dangerous, is if they were together. Funny how life turns out.

Unsub!Hotchniss AU. Word count: 3k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for most or all chapters): smut, descriptions of violence, descriptions of murder, gore (nothing too explicit), mentions of weapons

It had come as a surprise for them, both of them sated after another night of killing and then as they watched the morning news the next day, a sketch that looked eerily like them was shown. Serial killer couple, victims found in multiple states was written in big letters above the sketch and Emily had almost dropped her coffee on the floor.

“How do they know?” She asked just as the anchor kept talking, and Aaron froze to the spot.

“A witness who encountered the couple in question in Georgetown has stepped forward…”

“The woman, the prostitute.” Emily concluded before he could say anything. “You said we didn’t have to worry about her.”

“I was wrong.” He turns to look at her just as she scoffed. “They never talk, she must have been brought in for something else.”

“What do we do now?” She asked, her eyes wide as she watched him figure out a plan. After a couple of seconds of silence he took her hand, the warmth of it so familiar to her by now.

“We lay low, we go somewhere we haven’t been. And if things calm down then we can figure out a new way-”

“They’re after us now Aaron.” She interrupts him. “We can’t just take a break and then go back to what we’re used to.”

He knows she’s right and he squeezes her hand tighter.

“We’ll go to California like we planned, and then we’ll figure it out from there. But we might have to leave the country.” He searches her face for a reaction, for her to refuse but it doesn’t come. And he realizes that she’s already started over twice before, she could easily do it again.

“Okay.” She says, her hand holding onto his for a moment. “But first we’re driving to California, I have a friend there who might be able to help.”

“Who?” His eyebrow furrows as she reaches for her phone.

“He helped me when I moved from Ireland, he’ll help me again.” She wrote the number on her phone on a piece of paper to be used when they got new burner phones. “His name is Clyde Easter.”

For some reason the thought of another man knowing her secrets sent a spark of jealousy through him.

“Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“There wasn’t any need to. Just like we want out privacy for our… activities, he needs privacy too.” She catches the darkness of his eyes, feels his hand hold hers even tighter and she smiles. “Don’t be jealous honey.”

“I’m not.” He lies and she chuckles slightly as she straddles his lap on the couch.

“You are, and it’s hot.” She kisses him, kisses him until his hands are banding over her lower back to pull her further into him. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.” He promises.

It was strange, they had gotten a lead, they knew they were looking for a couple that traveled through the country. They even had a sketch that had been circulated to the press. They were closing in, and then the murders stopped. Dave rubbed his forehead, they hadn’t had another lead in months, he was pretty sure that they didn’t even have a new victim, nothing turning up anywhere even after letting police departments know what to look for.

“They must have seen the press conference, must have seen the police sketch and decided to lay low.” Jason says as he sips his coffee across from him.

“They’re smart, but killers like these, they’re addicted to it. It shouldn’t be long until they either of them break.”

“Maybe they’re using each other to get their urges under control.” His words causes Dave to look up from his own coffee mug. “Maybe the fact that they can go as long as they can without killing, is because they have each other.”

Dave knew that he was right.

*-*

They don’t fight often, but when they do, it’s like everything between them. It’s intense, loud and explosive. It’s dangerous.

He’s not sure what set them off this time, probably something dumb, probably the fact that they hadn’t killed in months. It made him irritable, it made her push his buttons in ways she usually wouldn’t, just to get a rise out of him. And it worked.

“I swear Emily, if you don’t shut up I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Her tone is icy, her smirk condescending as she interrupts him. “You’ll what Aaron? You’ll hit me? Be like your dad?”

It has the desired effect and he pushes her hard against the wall, the sound of her body colliding with it sending a satisfying shiver down his spine. His fingers dig into the back of her shoulders as he keeps her against the wall, his eyes locked on hers and he sees the familiar glint of pleasure in her dark orbs.

“You never know when to stop.” His words are hissed against her face and when she tries to squirm out of his hold he only grabs her harder, makes sure to leave bruises on her skin. “You think you’re in charge, but we both know that in the end you’ll be on your knees, begging for me. You’re not the one in charge here.”

She uses her strength to push him away, rage quickly flowing her veins. She had crossed the line first by bringing up his father, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from feeling anger like fire inside of her at his words. He stumbles back, momentarily surprised by her strength and she smirks at the angered look on his face.

“You think you can control me?” She pushes him again, but this time he barely budges. “You’d be nothing without me.” Her words make something close to a growl rumble in his throat and she feels anger and arousal at the sound. He tries to grab her again, but she’s faster than him and she takes her gun from the table beside them.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” He chuckles, not afraid of her even when she points the gun at him. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He takes a couple of steps forward, stands close enough for the barrel of the gun to press against his chest where she keeps it steady, a look of calmness coming over her as she grips the gun tighter.

“Don’t think I won’t do it.” She whispers and he laughs again, cold and close to manic and it reminds her of every time he would strangle a man to death. Like he reads her mind, his hand wraps around her throat, his hold tight enough for her to go lightheaded.

“I know you want to, I can see it, how badly you want to.” He takes in the view of his hand around her throat, catches the way she smirks as his grip loosens for her to draw a short breath. And then he pushes her back against the wall again, his hand still around her airway and his other hand digging out his knife from the pocket of his jeans.

“You want to kill me?” She juts her chin out, the barrel of the gun still pressed against his chest as her finger hovers over the trigger. The feeling of cold steel against her stomach makes her gasp, and when he presses even closer to her, she can feel him, hard and thick inside his jeans.

“I could do it, you know.” His words are quiet and cold and she knows that he’s right. That the only reason why he doesn’t is because he loves her. She loves him too, in whatever twisted way they had found love in the darkness of their world. He grabs her throat so tight her eyesight goes blurry and she feels the tip of his knife cut into her skin, nicking it and she moans at the sting.

“So do it.” She challenges, forcing words out through his hold and he relents just slightly.

“Maybe next time I will.” He throws the knife to the floor and then takes the gun from her and places it back on the table. She stays still, watches him through narrowed eyes as he takes in the flush on her cheeks, the way her chest heaves slightly from deep breaths.

“Don’t think this mean I’m still not mad at you.” She grabs his shirt and pulls him against her.

“Oh I’m counting on it.” He smirks before catching her lips in a kiss. There’s nothing romantic about it, tongues fighting for dominance and hands tearing at clothes, ribbing fabric and skin until they’re both naked.

She bites his chest, her teeth leaving an angry red mark in their wake as she kneels before him. Her hand is too harsh when she grabs his cock, and when he hisses she smirks up at him in satisfaction. He doesn’t seem bothered, his fingers easily gripping her dark hair and angles her head back. When he pushes his cock between her parted lips he groans at the smooth, wet heat of her mouth.

“Told you, you’d be on my knees for me.” He taunts her and when she grunts his hold on her hair only tightens as he thrusts his hips against her face. “Look who was right.”

She almost bites down on his shaft in retaliation, lets her teeth graze his skin in warning and he lets up.

“I swear the next time I’m pulling the trigger.” She rasps, her voice thick with arousal before she takes him back in her mouth, her lips tight around him as she sucks.

He wants to reply, but her tongue is doing something wicked against his skin, and he can’t seem to form a whole sentence together. Instead he settles for thrusting harder, making sure to poke at the back of her throat until she chokes and her eyes fill with tears.

When she feels him pull her up to stand, she’s so wound up she can feel her slick on her thighs. His thumb gently brushes a couple of tears away from her cheek and she licks her bottom lip.

“You’re so pretty like this.” He whispers and then claims her lips in a kiss and swallows up her moan as his fingers find their way between her legs.

“Fuck me, Aaron.” She gasps at the stretch of his fingers, still nowhere near the stretch of him and he bites down on her neck.

“I love how wet you get for me, how much the thought of killing me gets you off.” He mumbles against her neck as he moves her back through the house they’re renting in California. When she falls back against the bed he’s quick to join her, his heated eyes locked on hers as he hovers above her. “You love the thought of killing me almost as much as killing other men, don’t you.”

“Yes.” She digs her nails into his skin, makes sure to break skin for making her wait and he grunts in pained pleasure. “Just like I know you want to feel me gasp for breath as you strangle me, I can see it on you every time your hand wraps around my throat.”

When he finally pushes inside of her it’s hard and fast, his hips pressing against hers for only a moment before he starts to move.

“You’re right, sweet thing.” He pants, his hips thrusting hard and deep, a pace that’s close to violent and she meets him with every thrust. “I dream of it.”

“I know.” She grunts at the feel of him, huge and rough as he fucks the anger out of them both. Her legs tighten around his hips, one hand moves down between them to toy with her clit and when she tightens around him only a few minutes later she feels him smile into her neck.

“That’s it, come for me.” He licks a stripe up her neck, tastes the vibration of her moan as her back arches underneath him.

She comes with a scream that she doesn’t even try to keep down, her body spasming as her mind goes deliciously numb from pleasure. He doesn’t stop, even when she lays back limply against the bed. Instead he replaces her hand with his own over her clit, relishes the whimper that escapes her at the overstimulation.

“Again.” He tells her and she knows what he’s doing. That he’s proving his ownership on her by showing her that no one else would get her like this, just like she would dig her nails and teeth into his skin to claim him. He already had scars, thin, barely noticeable lines from where she had drawn blood in the past on his ribs and back, and every time she saw them she felt satisfaction.

She comes again, her body always so responsive to him and when she gasps for breath he flips her around and pulls her hips up. His hand is hot against her skin when he spanks her, and she whines at the slight sting, back arching for more. He spanks her three more times before pushing back inside of her again and she’s quick to move back against him, meeting each of his thrusts.

He makes her come three more times, dragging pleasure from her until it’s more painful than pleasurable and when he comes it’s with a strangled groan, his hands tight on her hips and head thrown back as he lets the power of his release wash over him. She’s trembling underneath him, exhaustion and pleasure making her muscles ache and when he lays down beside her, she just barely has enough energy to turn her head to look at him.

“We need to find someone soon.” She says and he nods, knowing that if they didn’t they’d only end up fighting again.

“I know baby, soon, I promise.”

*-*

The next time they kill, it wasn’t supposed to happen. They were keeping a low profile, they had ever since the news broke about them. It had been easier than Aaron had thought, they had rented a house in the middle of nowhere in California, Clyde Easter had shown up with new ID’s and passports, given them instructions to stay put until things had calmed.

It had been close to three months now and just like he had predicted, the news stopped reporting about them, the magazines that had been littered with the police sketch of them were gone. Sometimes it felt like it had been a bad dream, but he knew that they had to continue to be careful.

But Emily was restless, she wasn’t able to stay in one place for too long. That’s why they had gone for a drive, to get away from the house, and then they stopped at a tiny diner on the way back. It almost felt like normal until Aaron noticed a man looking at them, and he immediately knew that they had been caught.

“We have to go.” He mutters as he motions for the bill calmly.

“Why?” She stays just as calm, but her eyes are zeroed in on him, her back to the man that’s still watching them.

“There’s a man at the bar, I think he recognizes us.” Aaron smiles his thanks to the waitress and pulls out enough bills to cover the tab.

“Go to the bathroom and I’ll go to the car.” She rolls her eyes when he arches an eyebrow at her. “He’s more likely to follow me if I’m alone than us together or just you.”

“Fine.” He agrees, because he knows that she’s right. He stands up and she follows and then he goes towards the back where the bathrooms were but he could see the man in his peripheral, watching them closely.

Emily walks slowly out the door towards the car. She feels someone watching her and catches the man in the bar’s eyes but she keeps walking. Her ears are trained on any sound as she steps outside. It’s dark out, for that she was thankful and like she expected, she hears the door to the diner open after only a few seconds.

“Excuse me?”

She turns to the sound of a male voice and comes face to face with the man in the bar.

“Yes?” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He walks closer, his phone in hand and she’s sure he’s already called 911, can hear the faint mumbling of a voice coming from the speaker..

“No, I don’t think so. I’m just visiting some family out here.” She backs up, continues further into the shadows and away from the lights of the diner. He follows her, but stays a few feet away.

“Is that so?” He asks and looks around quickly. “And the man you’re with?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” She talks quietly, makes sure that the 911 operator doesn’t hear her. The man stares at her for a few seconds, like he’s sizing her up and then he takes another step closer to her.

“The police are on their way, you might as well drop the-”

His sentence is cut short by Aaron coming up behind him, easily snapping his neck and his body falls to the ground. Emily smashes the phone quickly and opens the trunk to the car and Aaron places the body in the back.

“We have to go, the police are on their way.” She says, voice slightly laced with panic at being so close to getting caught.

“We need to leave, get away from here.”

With that, Aaron drives towards their rented house, feeling adrenaline rushing through his veins.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

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izzyaro · 2 years

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Out Of Dark To The Day’s Rising

Summary: Aaron is an Emperor, born and raised to rule an empire spanning half a continent.Clyde Easter is a slave, beaten down and broken, and praying for an end.Their worlds are about to collide, and nothing will be the same.

Yet another Aaron/Clyde AU because I love them.

#out of dark #aaron hotchner #clyde easter #aaron hotchner/clyde easter #david rossi #savannah hayes #derek morgan #ian doyle

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criminalmindswhore · 6 months

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Call If You Need Me

angsty, fluffy, pulls at your heartstrings

TW: Mentions of parental death

The timing of your life always felt like some sort of sick joke on you. Without fail, everything happened at the worst time and, your mother's death was no different.

"I'll be back in a few months honey," Emily promised as she stroked your head that was placed in her lap on the couch. The movie on the screen is long forgotten. You gripped her pants tighter, "I'm just worried you won't get the chance to come back to me." Emily sighed, your worry was logical and was her biggest fear. "I promise to do everything in my power to get back to you Y/n." Emily leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple. Tears silently rolled down both your cheeks. "One call to Clyde and I will come home as fast as I can."

The phone rang loudly in your ear as you sat on the kitchen floor of her apartment, "Easter speaking." Your words got caught in your throat, and a sob came out instead. Clyde sat up at his desk, "Y/n?" You took a deep breath and forced the words out, "Clyde my mom died. I don't know if this counts as a reason to pull her out, but I want her to know as soon as possible. My mom was like a mom to Em." Clyde remembered the stories Emily had told him on the way to Boston.

The rain was pouring down all day essentially ruining your plans to take Emily to the market in your hometown. You padded down the stairs being careful not to slip in your socks. You found your mom looking out the living room window, you stood beside her and sighed, "There goes our plans for the day." Your mom giggled, "But the rain made us better plans. Go get Emily." She shooed you up the stairs to find your lover still asleep. You woke her up and slipped her shoes on before pulling her downstairs. The front door was open and you found your mom in the front yard running in the rain, a massive smile on her face. She spotted Emily and you laughing at her from the porch. She beckoned you to her. "Oh, absolutely not Mom." She glared at you, "You can't get struck by the lighting if you're not in the rain." She pulled your hand and Emily's as thunder cracked out. The three of you spent almost an hour in the rain. Running, dancing, laughing, talking. You and Emily stealing kisses when possible. You were out of earshot from the two when your mom told Emily, "Thank you for loving her, Emily. You're always welcome here with us." The words made Emily cry. The love she always wanted from her mom, she got from yours.

You were sitting on the windowsill staring at the London skyline. You felt frozen in time and space. You needed Emily to guide you, but you couldn't have that right now. Your phone vibrated and you looked down to see a number you didn't know. You answered immediately, "Hello?" Emily smiled, your voice. "Hi Brad." Brad. It was the name Emily told you before she left, "If I need to contact you for emergencies, you are Brad." You let out a soft cry, she was alive and talking to you. "I heard the news. I'm thinking 'bout coming home." She said it in a whisper. Emily was standing in the next room over from Doyle, but god knows she had to be careful. She looked out the window at the huge backyard of the villa. She was nervously playing with the wedding necklace Ian gave her. She felt so dirty wearing it. "I need to confirm the shipment and get in contact with Chris. Pack it up and meet me at the spot." Your stomach dropped thinking about how in code she had to be with you but, knowing she was okay enough to remember all these codes gave you comfort. "Where?" You wanted to tell her how much you loved her, how much you missed her but you didn't want to risk anything. "Someone will send you the coordinates. Don't be late, he doesn't like it when shipments are late." You cried yourself asleep that night replaying her voice in your head over and over. It sounded a little different but you figured she adopted the dialect of where her cover is from.

"Y/n I'm being so serious right now!" You doubled over in laughter with your mom. "There's no way you have a whole assignment to do a job interview in a Southern accent!" Your mom said as she slapped your arm from humor. Emily was standing in front of you two smiling pretending to be offended, "I do!" She said in a Southern accent, "I take one theatre class for an elective and you two act like I've grown another head!" She was laughing now at her own accent. "Oh, how college has changed you, Emily Prentiss!" You said dramatically and pretended to faint into your mom's lap.

You spent the next week jumping at every phone call and text, waiting for the coordinates that never came. You were losing hope that Interpol would pull her out because of your mom. From the start, you knew it was a long shot. There were very few reasons that someone that deep undercover would get pulled out and a death in the family isn't one of them.

Emily, sorry, Lauren was in the front garden harvesting some Lilacs for Ian's birthday. The purple flowers were in perfect bloom and the smell wafted into her nose. She had just picked the last one when she heard tires screeching to a halt. She looked up to see 4 SUV's and men coming at her. "What's going on?" She asked in Italian, they grabbed her and shoved her into a car. "I need to speak to Easter," she said softly. The second the car door closed, she yanked off the necklace Ian gave her and let out the breath she had been holding for 8 months.

Standing around the casket you and your family watched as your mom was lowered into the ground. You were gripping the rose meant for Emily to place like it was the last thing keeping you upright. "Wait!" Your head immediately turned and saw her. Your Emily running across the cemetery. Her hair was lighter now and she had bangs, but god she looked beautiful. It was like the first time you had ever seen her. She reached you and immediately pulled you into her grasp. Tears you didn't know you had left came flooding from your eyes as your arms wrapped around her neck. Emily breathed you in, your perfume filling her nose. "Em. I thought-" She pulled back, keeping her arms around your waist, "I had to wait until it was safe to pull me out." Emily smiled sadly at you. Your mouth was just opening and closing like your brain was short-circuiting. "You made it," you finally choked out. Emily pulled you in for the first kiss you'd shared in 8 months. Her lips felt the same, tasted the same, that kiss made your brain realize she was really here. It felt like life was being poured back into Emily's being after being someone else for so long. You were the one to pull away this time as you handed her the rose, "I saved this for you to give her in case you made it." Emily's smile dropped and a wave of sadness overtook her. She took the rose from you and stepped towards the casket. "Thank you for loving me like your own and for welcoming me into your home and arms. You raised an amazing daughter and I intend to take over the watch now. I got her."

Emily dropped her rose in and grabbed your hand holding it tightly. Emily didn't cry in front of people except you and JJ, so when you looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks, you felt your heart shatter. The past 8 months were so hard for Emily, you cannot fathom coming home to this.

As the sun set on your hometown you and Emily sat in your dad's truck in a parking lot. You needed a moment away from the family and Emily needed space to begin to process the past 8 months. Her hand was intertwined with yours, music playing softly. You looked away from the sunset to look at her. She felt your eyes on her and turned to you, a smile gracing her face when she saw you. "I'm sorry Em." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "For what?" A tear slipped from your eye, "For whatever you just endured. I know you can't tell me anything for a while because of the red tape and rules but I'm here when you want to or need to talk about it. Mom would kick my ass if I didn't recognize how hard of a time this is for both of us." Emily looked down at the console, licked her bottom lip, and then bit it. You grabbed her chin and pulled her eyes back to yours, "That's your tell so don't try to tell me to worry about only me." Your eyes were serious, "When I can, I promise to not bottle this up." You leaned into her and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, "I love you." Your words were quiet but meaningful, "I love you so much Y/n." Emily's hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled your lips back to hers, this time more passionately. As your lips collided thunder cracked. Emily's hands threading through your hair, your hands on her face. She pulled away to breathe and opened the truck door, "Let's go dance in the rain for your mom?"

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader #emily prentiss angst #lauren reynolds

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stream-of-grace · 11 months

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“Em.”

She flinched, yanking her finger out of her mouth and jamming her hand in the back pocket of her jeans. She turned away from the window with forced casualness and arched an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t bother looking her over, knowing he would see what he had seen for the last month. “They’ve given the team our next assignment.” he leaned against the doorframe, not making a move to approach her.

Her forced calmness didn’t hide her second flinch. “Right. About that time, huh.” she smiled at him.

“Agent Mosely or Sean will be tasked with infiltration if it is necessary.”

She narrowed her eyes at the emphasised rank of the other woman on the team, and bristled at the implication. “Sir. I am perfectly capable-”

“No. This isn’t up for negotiation, darling,” he said as placatingly as he could. He knew what she was thinking, knew she was only thinking he didn’t think she was good enough; and he didn’t know how else to try to convince her of the truth. “Tsia is perfectly capable and hasn’t just gotten out of a deep cover op.” he reminded her.

She looked away, gritting her teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“We fly out tomorrow.”

She nodded again, still not looking at him.

He sighed, glanced around the empty hotel room one more time, and then left.

Tsia was hovering outside of her own hotel door, waiting for him worriedly. “Are you sure-”

“She passed all of her examinations and evaluations with flying colours.” he said flatly, running a hand through his hair. “There’s nothing you or I can do to stop her since she insists on coming along so soon.”

“Clyde...if we need anyone-”

“it will be you or Sean.” he promised, interrupting her again. “Emily is as benched as I can make her until she improves.”

Tsia relaxed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” he muttered. Not when it was his fault she got hurt in the first place, he thought as he trudged down the hall to his own room.

He shut and locked the door behind him and sighed, longing for his own flat and his own bed and his own-

He cut his train of thought off with a trouble and shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over a chair before loosening his tie and dragging it off. He watched the fax machine set up on the desk and watched as it finished another sheet of paper. There were already at least twenty sheets lying in the tray and he resigned himself to a night of studying instead of sleeping.

He started unbuttoning his dress shirt, striding to the bathroom to turn the shower on. A hot shower after a long debrief never hurt; and without reading the case file, he didn’t know what he had to prepare for yet. He pulled his shirt off completely and leaned into the shower to turn the water on.

There were a few air bubbles and some awful sputtering, but nothing came out of the pipes. He breathed in slowly, and turned the water off and then back on again.

Nothing new happened and he breathed out a string of curse words in Greek.

He glared at the faucet as if it had done it on purpose, threw his shirt into the sink, and stalked out of his room with the sole intention of getting a hot shower come hell or high water. He took the stairs two at a time and hit the bell on the receptionist desk with a little more force than strictly necessary.

He waited twice as long as he felt was reasonable, and then hit it again with more force as if that would make it sound louder.

“if you’re here about the water, I am afraid the lovely young lady has stepped out to make a call about it.”

He breathed in and made himself calm down before he snapped someone’s head off.

There wasn’t anyone he could blame for this – at least anyone within reach. Doyle was on his way to some blacklisted government prison where he would be pumped for every piece of information he ever knew and then he would be lost; yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Nothing would ever feel like enough for what some people did, not until they regretted everything they had ever done and only then did it feel like a step in the right direction of enough.

He was good at his job. There was a reason he was the team lead, and it wasn’t his exceptional good looks and charming personality. He knew when she stepped out of the car in the precinct’s garage that something horrible had happened. He knew when she had privately begged him for a pregnancy test just what that something was, and he had sent her back to Interpol headquarters immediately. She had argued, she had gotten defensive, she had said she was fine but…

He should have known better. He should have done more research, should have built a better profile before ever going along with his superior’s insistence on concrete, eyewitness evidence. He was the team leader, and he was responsible, and he should have known.

He should have done better.

Now he had a sucessful mission on paper, a failed mission in practice, a team that was going to shatter if he didn’t figure out how to hold it together, and a fresh reminder of how easy he found it to ruin everything.

He took another studying breath and turned away from the desk, leaning against it as he looked towards whomever else had been foiled in their attempt to shower before bed.

The man dressed in all black, in a suit that even from this distance Clyde could tell was expensive, raised an eyebrow and let his dark gaze travel over Clyde’s bare chest with open appreciation. He didn’t linger long on the scars Clyde knew had to still be visible even in the evening light and at a distance, and when he raised his gaze to meet his eyes again, he was smirking. “Pity you didn’t finish undressing before you tried to turn on the water.” he drawled in a Scottish accent.

“Perhaps I did, and simply pulled my trousers back on to come down and make a complaint.” he leaned both elbows back on the desk, arching his back slightly.

“And put your shoes on, but not your shirt?”

“There are all sorts of diseases waiting in public footways, darling.” he retorted with a smirk.

The man’s smile widened and he got up. “Crowley.”

He watched him come over, not moving as the slightly shorter and much stockier man came to stand in front of him and watched his eyes once again map out his bare chest. “Clyde. Like what you see?”

“it has its merits.” he said, meeting his eyes again. “Do you have plans for the night?”

“I suppose shower sex is out of the question at the moment,” he said dryly.

The man snorted a laugh, eyes twinkling. “I don’t think I will be complaining about that for the moment.”

“Only the moment?” he couldn’t help teasing back.

“if we take long enough, they’ll fix the problem before we’re done.”

His breath caught in his throat, and he knew his cheeks flushed. He didn’t move from his seductive pose however, weighing his options.He could shut this down, make up some excuse about a boyfriend or girlfriend, and go back to his room. He could sit by his fax machine, study the mission files all night, and be the first at the airport in the morning. He could do everything he could to make sure this mission went off without a hitch.

Or he could spend a lovely night pretending he was wanted by someone, and hopefully fucked so hard he was late for the flight in the morning.

Either way, he probably wouldn’t get a shower.

He looked Crowley over. The man was rich, and assertive, and either used to no consequences or as good a profiler as he was to come on to a stranger in public. “I have been putting off getting fucked hard, darling. Aren’t you worried I’ll tire you out?” he pushed himself off the counter, leaning into Crowley’s space and meeting his eyes.

The man’s eyes darkened, and he gently traced Clyde’s lips with a finger. “I think you’ll find I am as good as my word.”

He swallowed, feeling frozen. There was still time to back out, still time to go back to his room and punish himself- “Then lead the way, darling. I can go all night long,” he promised.

If Crowley was surprised, he didn’t show it. Clyde waited while he gathered his briefcase from the foyer couch, and then fell into step beside him as they headed back to his room.

Clyde hesitated by the elevator, and started walking again when the darker man just kept going.

“...prefer to be as far from the sky as possible.” Crowley explained ruefully when he noticed Clyde’s curiosity.

“No penthouse suite?”

“God is just waiting for me to get in range so he can strike me down.”

He chuckled. “Dramatic much?”

“Says the man who ran downstairs half dressed because his water didn’t work – you smell heavenly, honey. Most wouldn’t have worried.”

Clyde narrowed his eyes at the man’s perception and wondered if he had made a mistake.

“Ah. Right. Insurance investigator.” he gestured at one. “Or a lawyer as the case may be. In between dealing with idiots all day and questioning my life choices, I got good at reading people.”

he relaxed a little. “Hopefully you had time to study some extracurriculars.” He purred, leaning against the doorframe when Crowley stopped and went to unlock the door.

“Maybe I’ll sit back and let you show me what you know, Clyde.” He threw a look dark with arousal at him, and laughed at the disappointment Clyde must have let out. He opened the door and gestured him in. “Relax. My mother always complained I was too aggressive by far.”

he walked in, looking around the well lit room. There was a set of fine luggage and several garment bags by the closet and he expected that if he searched he would find more immaculate suits in there.

“Like what you see?” Crowley stepped around him and made his way to the minibar. “Do you have a preference?”

“What with you...colour preferences, I rather expected some sort of dungeon.” He casually made his way over to the lawyer.

Crowley glared at him, offended by something he had said.

“I’ll take a Scotch on rocks, darling.”

He poured the drink with some annoyance and then held it out.

Clyde reached out to take it, and glanced up when Crowley didn’t let go right away. He sipped his drink slowly, watching him over the rim of his glass.

Crowley was watching him, his eyes calculating; and Clyde started to feel awkward.

“Like what you see?” he joked, shooting the rest of the Scotch back to break their gaze.

“Clyde.”

He looked back at him, setting his now empty glass back on the bar and waiting with something like nerves.

He took a sip of his neat alcohol, never looking away from him. “I have every intention of pinning you down to that bed, stretching you open, and coming several times before I give you release. I might tie you up. I might choke you. Normally I wouldn’t ask.” he took another sip, and Clyde could barely breathe. “But normally I hook up with people I know. And people who don’t have a past.” he added dryly, gesturing with the glass at Clyde’s scars visible on his chest. “I will fuck you into that bed until you forget your name, and I will use you; and, if I am right, you will love it.” he finished his drink and Clyde finally remembered how to breathe, his trousers suddenly too tight. “So yes, and the safeword is Rowena; or no, and you leave and have a pleasant evening and perhaps a shower.”

He opened his mouth, and then had to swallow and lick his lips to get his tongue to work. “Rowena?”

He grimaced. “My mother’s name. Instant mood killer. Knew a stripper once named Rowena – I blame her for making me gay,” he said conversationally.

Clyde chuckled again. “At twenty-one?”

“...cemented it for me, then.” he amended. “What will it be, Clyde?” he pressed, refocusing the conversation.

Clyde couldn’t stop his darted glance towards the door, couldn’t hide his hesitation.

But maybe someone taking control would help the guilt. He looked back at Crowley and nodded decisively. “Yes, sir.”

Crowley smiled slowly and poured himself another glass of Scotch. “Then I recommend you strip, honey.”

he dragged in a breath and immediately went to undo his dress trousers and slide them off.

“Stop,” he snapped.

He froze, hands still at his fly.

“You’re a bloody present, Clyde. Unwrap it like one.” he drawled, leaning against the bar in a mimicry of how Clyde had posed at the reception desk and sipped his Scotch.

He swallowed and tried to relax. “isn’t that alcohol counterproductive?” he asked sarcastically to hide his awkwardness.

Crowley narrowed his eyes.

He held his breath, canting his hip a little as he slowly slid his slacks down the skin of his thighs.

Crowley followed the movement, humming appreciatively.

Clyde pointedly looked at the glass, waiting for an answer.

He wasn’t in any hurry, savouring his sip before raising a finger and gesturing clyde to step closer.

He took a confident step forward, leaving his trousers in a pile on the floor. He put his hands on his naked hips. “You’re a little too dressed-” he gasped as Crowley reached out lightning fast, gripping his chin painfully tight and yanking him down to eye leve.

“You don’t get to decide what is productive tonight. I do. And I currently think that you are too tense right now to be a good boy.”

He swallowed. He could pull free, Crowley didn’t have any real grip on him; but he couldn’t, staring into his dark eyes.

“You want to be a good boy, and I want you to be a good boy. To reach that end, you are going to stop worrying about..well, about anything.” He said with a promise in his tone, before he slid his hand around the back of Clyde’s neck and kissed him deeply.

He didn’t exactly understand what Crowley wanted, but he did understand kissing so he focused on that. He rested his hands on Crowley’s waist and kissed him back the best he could.

When they parted for breath, he was pleased to realise Crowley was panting with arousal. He felt pressure on his shoulder.

“turn around, sweetie.”

He followed, feeling himself directed around. Crowley took his hands, crossing them behind his back and wrapping something around them.

His breathing immediately picked up, and he felt a kiss pressed to his shoulder blade.

“...I won’t check in often, since I trust you’re a competent adult but – are you alright?”

he held a breath to steady himself and then nodded. “Yes, of course.” he tested the binds and realised they were probably Crowley’s silk tie; and that he would also have to break something to get out of them.

Crowley hummed thoughtfully. “Kneel by the bed.” he finally ordered.

Clyde blinked, and then walked as gracefully as he could to the edge of the bed, turning around to see crowley before folding himself to the floor.

Crowley was sipping his Scotch again with that calculating look. “Did I say you could do that?”

“you-”

“Did I say you could do that?” He repeated forcefully.

He flinched and shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Glad you can learn something.”

Clyde watched him finish his drink and set the empty glass aside, his heart pounding in his chest. He reminded himself that he didn’t know this man, he didn’t know his history or his past or even his kinks. All he knew so far was that the man liked to be in charge, and that left a wide array of options left for how this could go.

And yet, he stayed on his knees with his hands resting in the small of his back and waited as the lawyer made his way across the room to him and took a seat on the bed next to where he was kneeling.

“Are you usually so much trouble?” he asked in a soft voice that somehow managed to be demanding.

Usually he went for more vanilla partners and it was good but… “No, sir.”

He threaded his hand through Clyde’s hair, and then suddenly he was being dragged up over his lap.

He yelped, struggling for a moment, but Crowley knew what he was doing; and with a hand in his hair and his hips braced too far over his knee, Clyde didn’t really have the leverage to gracefully correct himself. He breathed heavily, staring at the hotel carpet. “You – what are you-” he broke off with a yelp of surprise when Crowley spanked him.

“You need to relax, don’t you.” he stroked the curve of Clyde’s arse.

“Did you – I am not-” he jerked when Crowley spanked him again. He blinked at the carpet, trying to untangle the feelings in him.

“I said, don’t you.”

He flushed red with shame, and shifted uncomfortably.

Crowley spanked him several times, focusing his hits on top of one another until Clyde was squirming and trying not the whimper.

“yes – yes, sir. But-” he broke off as he got spanked again.

“No.” he punctuated every other word with another slap. “You do not get to decide. You will take what I give you, what I decide you need. Do you understand me?”

Clyde was shaking slightly, too shocked to try to struggle anymore. He didn’t exactly hurt he just…

Crowley dragged his head up by his head and repeated his question.

Clyde met his eyes, knowing he wasn’t able to hide his nervousness anymore. He studied him, speechless as he kept trying to untangle the feelings in his chest.

Crowley seemed to soften a little. “Relax, pet.” he kissed him soundly.

He sighed into the kiss, following for more when Crowley pulled away.

“I will help you relax.” he said without room for negotiating, maneuvering Clyde’s head back down to face the floor. He stroked the warm skin of his arse, before starting to spank him once again.

#crowley #balthazar #clyde easter #sebastian roche #supernatural #criminal minds #jtf 12 #jtf12 #alternate universe #crossover #wip #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction

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