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harlowhockeystick · 3 months

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LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

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soulofapatrick · 3 months

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In the Quiet Moments - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: A case makes you admit your feelings to Hotch

Words: 1.8K

Warning: none, just fluffiness

Y/N's POV

The jet cabin is cloaked in a heavy silence, a stark contrast to the usual banter and camaraderie that fills the air after a case. Each member of the team occupies a space, physically present yet emotionally distant, lost in their own thoughts and the weight of the horrors we've witnessed. I hate this part of the cases, the cool down. The somber atmosphere that feels suffocating when things don’t go as well as they could have. The exhaustion on everyone’s faces. The guilt in their eyes.

I’m stood by the coffee machine, nursing a hot cup to keep away the nightmares. Everyone’s doing what they can to distract themselves. Spencer’s taken the couch, his lanky frame stretched out across it and my coat as his pillow and soft snores emitting from him. In the nearest four seater to Spencer is sat Rossi, he’s playing a game of chess with Emily to distract themselves. Morgan’s sat in the two seater with his headphones on and JJ’s asleep opposite him, leaving Hotch sat on his own in the other four seater.

The soft glow of the cabin lights casts a gentle halo around Hotch, illuminating the worn lines etched into his features. There's a subtle furrow in his brow, a testament to the weight of responsibility that rests upon his shoulders. His gaze, fixed with unwavering determination, traces the lines of the case files spread out before him, each page a glimpse into the horrors we've witnessed.

Despite the exhaustion that hangs heavy in the air, Hotch remains steadfast, his posture rigid with resolve. His jaw is set in a firm line, the faintest hint of weariness lurking beneath the surface. In the quiet solitude of the cabin, he seems both distant and yet achingly present, a pillar of strength amidst the chaos that surrounds us.

As I watch him from across the cabin, a surge of empathy washes over me, mingling with the exhaustion that gnaws at my bones. Hotch's unwavering composure belies the turmoil that rages within, a silent battle fought in the depths of his soul.

It what makes me decide who to sit with. I need to feel someone and that someone would usually be Spencer but he’s taken up too much of the couch for me to join his sleeping form so I head towards Hotch.

My steps tentative as I don’t want to disturb the quiet peace, approaching Hotch as the soft hum of the jet engines create a soothing backdrop. Hotch looks up, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of acknowledgment, a silent invitation lingering in the air between us.

Hotch's gaze softens as I gently push his shoulder, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes at my playful pout. With a subtle nod, he shifts over to the window seat, making room for me to slide in beside him. The warmth of his presence envelops me like a comforting embrace as I settle into the space next to him, the gentle hum of the jet engines a soothing backdrop to the heavy silence that surrounds us.

"What are we looking at?" I inquire softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I pick up the nearest folder, my heart sinking at the gruesome images that greet me. Hotch takes the folder from my hands with a shake of his head, a silent gesture of protection against the horrors contained within despite me being a member of the BAU and seeing this stuff on a daily bases.

With practiced efficiency, he begins to stack the folders, creating a barrier between us and the darkness that threatens to consume our thoughts. I meet his gaze with a mixture of determination and vulnerability, my silent plea for solace echoing in the depths of his gaze.

"What do you need?" Hotch's voice is gentle, a beacon of calm amidst the chaos that swirls around us. But instead of answering, I find myself drawn to him, a primal instinct guiding my movements as I gently manoeuvre him into the corner of the seat, his warmth enveloping me like a protective shield.

I lay my head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against the backdrop of our shared exhaustion. With a faint smile, I hand him a case file, the words barely a whisper against the material of his suit jacket.

"I sleep, you work," I murmur, the weight of our shared burdens momentarily forgotten in the quiet intimacy of the moment. And as the jet hurtles through the night sky, carrying us home to the familiar embrace of the unknown, I find solace in the unspoken bond that binds us together, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that threatens to consume us all.

His scent surrounds me, a mixture of leather and cologne, familiar and comforting in its simplicity. It’s a scent that speaks of strengths and resilience, of the countless battles fought and won in the name of justice. And as his hand finds its way to my hair, the gentle caress sending shivers down my spine, I can’t help but lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut as I bask in the warmth of his presence.

In this fleeting moment, nestled against his chest, I feel safe, cocooned in the protective embrace of his arms. His heartbeat, steady and reassuring, lulls me into a state of peaceful oblivion until it suddenly picks up when I burrow a hand under his suit jacket and into the fabric of his button-up shirt. It brings back that yearning I’ve been trying to bury, a desire that simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to engulf us both in its fiery embrace. I long to lean up, to press my lips against his in a silent confession of the emotions that swirl beneath the surface. But he’s my boss, and I’m just his friend and college, bound by the unspoken rules that govern our professional relationship.

As I nestle against Hotch's chest, a pang of longing courses through me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. I find myself nuzzling at his shirt, the fabric warm against my nose and cheek, his solid and toned chest a testament to the strength that lies within. In the hushed stillness of the jet cabin, I hear Hotch’s breath hitch, a subtle indication that he, too, is affected by the tension that crackles between us.

His voice, when he speaks, is quiet and measured, a soothing balm against the storm raging within, “What’s on your mind?” Hotch’s words are laced with an undercurrent of curiosity, a silent invitation to share the burden that weighs heavy upon my heart. And as his gaze meets mine, I see something flicker within the depths of his eyes, a vulnerability that mirrors my own.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes dip down to my lips, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken desires that simmer just beneath the surface. And in that moment, I see the truth reflected in his gaze, a yearning that echoes my own.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I run my hand up from his chest to his cheek, the touch tentative yet filled with longing. His stubble grazes against my palm, tactile reminder of the intimacy that binds us together. And as my fingers slip into the soft tufts of his black hair, I see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a question hanging in the air between us.

I’m shifting my body slightly, bringing my lips tantalisingly close to his, I feel the tension crackling through his entire being as if he wants this but he wants to remain professional. Uncertainty hangs like a veil, casting a shadow over the moment, yet I can’t help but be drawn to the magnetic pull that binds us together.

“Stop me if I’m reading this wrong.” I murmur, the words a soft whisper against the canvas of our shared intimacy. It’s a plea, a silent beg for him to guide me through this uncharted territory of our desires.

And then, in a heartbeat, everything changes. Hotch surges forwards, his lips meeting mine in a breath stealing kiss that ignites a firestorm of emotions within me. It’s a symphony of passion and longing, a silent confession of the unspoken desires that have been lingering between us for far too long.

His hands find their way to the small of my back, drawing me closer in a gesture of unspoken longing. His touch is both gentle and possessive, a silent promise of the depth of his desire. His lips, warm and velvety against mine, ignite a firestorm of sensation that courses through my veins like liquid flame. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes, a language of passion and longing that transcends the boundaries of words.

In his embrace, I feel alive, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of our shared connection. It’s a if the world fades away, leaving only the two of us suspended in a timeless embrace, lost in the depths of shared desire. Hotch makes me feel cherished, desired, and understood in a way I’ve never experienced before. In his arms, I find solace, a sanctuary from the chaos that surrounds us, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that threatens to consume us.

But, just as we lose ourselves in the depth of our shared desire, a sharp wolf whistle pierces the air, snapping us back to reality with a jolt. Morgan is standing before us, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he observes our flushes cheeks and disheveled appearances.

With a nervous laugh, I jump apart from Hotch, the remnants of the coffee spilling across the table in a chaotic mess. My cheeks flame red with embarrassment as I fumble for words, the panic evident in my trembling hands.

Morgan’s laughter echoes through the cabin, a lighthearted reminder of the camaraderie that binds us together. With a playful wink, he saunters away, leaving Hotch and me to contend with the aftermath of our momentary lapse in composure as we hear Morgan telling the others what he just witnesses at the end of the cabin and hearing the gasps and giggles and laughter.

I glance at Hotch who’s cheeks are as red as his tie, his expression a mixture of amusement and affection and I can’t help but smile despite the embarrassment that lingers in the air.

“Get some sleep, we’re gonna need it.” He mutters, pulling me back into his arms so my head is on his chest again and this time I let his heartbeat begin to lull me into the sweet bliss of sleep as he pours over the now slightly coffee stained case files, not quite sure if this is all a dream or not.

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meatonfork · 1 year

Note

hoiii, can you do a platonic team 141 x reader where s they’re the youngest/smallest one on the team yet they seem to be able to beat everyone on when sparring and everyone’s like wtf…

omg hello! i’ve never had a request, so this is new hehe

i’m not great at writing! i will try my absolute best to make this good. i struggle with adding personality to my characters without over explaining. so let’s see how this goes!

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Bloody Hell

pairing: platonic 141 x gn!reader :)

*readers call sign is grim :)

warnings: none!

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you’ve found that being the smallest and the youngest on the 141 had its cons. but, you’ve also found that it had its pros.

“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.

you and the rest of the team were in the cafeteria, having just eaten lunch, when soap had decided today would be a great day to challenge you in sparring. seeing as none of the guys had seen you in action, they figured this would be easy for him. it was almost comical, seeing their smug smirks and eyes shining in hunger at seeing someone so small to absolutely demolish in combat.

he also wanted to show you, the newbie, your place. your stature was tiny compared to ghost. when stood next to him, you looked like an ant. squash-able and minuscule.

but, you had been chosen for the 141 by laswell herself. who was price to argue? your folder was mostly confidential. there wasn’t much to go on. but one thing price knew for sure was that you’re a force to be reckoned with. just because you were small didn’t mean you weren’t strong, and soap soon found that out.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea, sergeant.” your eyebrow had raised, and your voice was an eery calm. soap almost backed down. almost.

he probably should’ve.

“oh, c’mon. scared i’ll whoop yer ass, grim?” his face donned a cocky smirk, and you couldn’t resist.

poor guy.

with a sigh, you stood from your seat. the guys looked for any sign of hesitation, or nerves from you, but found none.

as the both of you moved to a clearer area, the others followed. gaz was mentally preparing to help you after you got your ass handed to you, and ghost honestly just wanted to see how this played out.

soap quickly got into position, feet spread shoulder length, one slightly in front of the other, and both hands brought up. you stood across from him, and cracked your neck before quickly getting into the same position.

“are you sure you’re ready, soap?” you wanted to make sure this was absolutely something he wanted. there was no going back after, and you wanted him to at least have a little dignity.

he laughed.

he was ready.

price stood to the side, yelling out a go ahead. he, himself, also a little curious to see how this played out.

soap immediately lunged to your right side. sidestepping, you drove an elbow into his back. he lost balance, but quickly regained it and spun towards you. his lip twitched a bit, and his eyes narrowed. maybe this wasn’t going to plan, but he was confident he would win this. he tried to kick your leg out from under you, but he was too cocky and you caught on, jumping up slightly.

soap heavily relied on brute strength, but you were quicker. he threw a punch, only for you to duck and charge at his midsection, throwing him to the mat beneath you.

he thrust his hips up and quickly flipped you, so he was on top and pinning you to the mat.

you smirked, “i’m likin’ the view serg.”

soaps eyes widened, and his grip slightly went slack. not much. but, enough for you to get a hand loose and land a punch to his cheek.

using the momentum of the punch to your advantage, you quickly rolled the opposite direction of him and onto your knees. soap got up quicker than expected, throwing a punch to your side, and next you knew, you were back on the ground. back in the same position you were just in.

a sigh left your lips, but your eyes were glistening in satisfaction seeing a bruise forming on his jaw. a mischievous smile slowly grew on your face. soap’s eyes narrowed once more.

“wha- FUCK” with a swift knee to the groin, soap toppled over. you pounced on top of your sergeant and quickly threw him into a headlock.

“oh fuck!” gaz’s voice rang from somewhere to the side.

soap’s whines and gasps were loud, and the smile only grew on your face. hair falling in your face moving in and out with your heavy breaths.

“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.

you let go of the man below you, and stood. hands on your hips, heavy breath, and a satisfied smile.

johnny lied there a moment, trying to catch is breath. opening his eyes, he sees your hand. you haul him to his feet and pat his back.

“are you okay serg.? didn’t mean to hurt ya too badly.” your voice held amusement, but it was sincere.

“bloody hell, johnny. they got ya good” ghost sauntered over and crossed his arms. you look over to see his eyes scanning you, a flash of approval ran over his eyes. you weren’t quite sure, but you thought you saw a small tug at his mask near his mouth.

sick, he thought you did well.

gaz and price made their way over, small smiles on their faces.

“ah, whatever. lets go again.”

“what? are you sure?”

“yeah, let’s go.”

soap lost every time. he also always had an excuse.

there was something in his eye.

he lost his footing.

he heard a bird overhead and wanted to see it.

you beat him every time, but you also managed to take a few hits yourself.

ghost and gaz continued to stand at the sidelines, but price walked off a bit ago. shaking his head and muttering to himself about ‘soap’s gonna get fucked up’ or something like that.

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a/n: thank you sm for reading! again, i don’t ever write so i hope this satisfied you! i’m working on getting better at characteristic and really getting the boys’ right. criticism is always loved and wanted <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap cod #cod mw22 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #i love them sm #gn!reader #grim au

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reiding-writing · 5 months

Text

macarons and misunderstandings [ s.r ]

Summary:

You coax Spencer into joining you in a bakery café that your friend recommended you to visit whilst on a case in NYC, and although it starts as two friends getting lunch together, it doesn’t end that way.

WARNINGS: minor swearing, wholesome miscommunication

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just the most sickeningly sweet wholesome fluff

wc: 3.4k

masterlist!!

a/n: rest assured, i will be returning to my comfort zone of hurt/comfort for my next fic bc i cannot write wholesome stuff for the life of me 😭

“Alright, take a break everyone, we’ll pick this back up after everyone’s had the chance to eat,” Hotch’s voice rings across the NYPD conference room alongside the closing of the file he was reading from, and he tucks the manilla folder under his arm as he stands. “I want you all back here by 1:30,”

There’s a small chain of nods and ‘yes sir’s before the team is rising from the table and grabbing their belongings to vacate the police station to go and get some lunch, and you manage to catch Spencer right before he leaves. “Hey Spence-”

“Hm? Yeah?” He does a full U-turn with his body, almost walking straight into you in the process if not for his hand still holding the door open to give him a point of balance, and you have to stifle a small smile that tries to break its way onto your face.

“You got any plans for lunch or can I effectively kidnap you for an hour?”

Spencer gives you slightly furrowed expression although doesn’t seem opposed to the idea. “I’m not sure that was the best way to word that but no I haven’t,”

“Yeah probably not-“ You let out a small breath that could almost constitute as a laugh. "Anyway, apparently there’s a really good french bakery like two blocks away from here, we should go check it out before Hotch changes his mind and decides we’re confined to the station,”

“Right… yeah uh-.” Spencer laughed softly, encouraging you out of the door ahead of him before following behind you. “A bakery sounds really nice actually,”

"My friend told me about it when she was down here for fashion week, she said it has some of the best pastries she’s ever tried," You emphasise the word ‘best’ with your hands, and Spencer’s eyes followed them as he got caught up in your enthusiasm.

One of your favourite things about your oddly-developed friendship with Spencer was that you could do things like take a trip to a bakery together without a single hint of awkwardness.

Long since had the silences between you held any unfamiliar tension or apprehension when it came to getting to know each other those five years ago.

It was comfortable. Secure. And you weren’t entirely sure it was just a ‘friendship’.

“Did she happen to mention what type of pastries they have?” Spencer asked you, his eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity.

"She specifically mentioned the almond croissants, although i’m also eager to try their lemon crêpes because they sound absolutely amazing," You continue to exaggerate what you’re saying with your hands as you push open the door of the Police Station, exiting into the cool autumnal breeze of the New York City streets.

Spencer followed closely behind you, nodding along to what you were saying as he placed his hands the pockets of his tattered trench coat. Although, he wasn’t entirely listening to the words leaving your mouth, too focused on how the autumn breeze blew your hair softly and how the partially concealed rays of sun made your eyes look like they they held all of the stars in the milky way.

"Ooh, and macarons-" You turn towards Spencer as your excitement about what pastries to get overtakes any lingering thoughts of the case you’re working on, gripping onto his sleeve with your left hand.

You were excited about the pastries; He was excited about the warmth of your hand through his sleeve.

“Macarons do sound good. You know what would go really well with them?” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, smiling like you’d ripped the sun from the sky and given it to him as a present. “Hot chocolate.”

"Oh you are so right-" You give an immediate sharp nod at Spencer’s suggestion, sliding down his arm to rest on the inside of his elbow, fingers pressed gently into the slight curve created from where his hands rested inside his pockets.

To the unassuming eye, the two of you most probably looked like a couple out on a date, your arms linked and Spencer looking at you like you were the only person in existence.

Spencer was very aware that the way you touched him made it look like you were in a relationship.

And it made him feel a little giddy.

He had to force himself back to reality. He wasn’t in a relationship with you. All he was doing was going out with you as a friend to grab some pastries for lunch. That’s it.

"Okay so we have definite yeses to macarons and hot chocolate, I feel like we’ve gotta get at least one almond croissant considering how much my friend was raving about them, anything else?"

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a crêpe before. Maybe we should try one of those?”

Spencer had a sudden urge to kiss you, and he didn’t really know why. Maybe it was gentle heat of your fingers against his arm. Maybe it was the light pink flush on your cheeks from the cold breeze. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been subconsciously pining after you for years to the point where he could barely think of anything else.

"Yes. Definitely. 100%." You give the inside of his elbow a small squeeze at the prospect of introducing him to the delicacy that is french crêpes. "I cannot let you live a life without crêpes in it."

Spencer nodded along arbitrarily, not listening to a single word that you just said as he internally imagined how it would feel to have your hands in his hair and your lips on his skin.

Why wasn’t he in a relationship with you? You were just… perfect, and he was really into you.

He felt like there had to be a reason why you weren’t together, but that train of thought made Spencer fluster to the point he was afraid you’d be able to see it if he thought about it any longer.

"Aha," You make an exclamation of victory as the bakery comes into view, pushing the door open with a soft bell chime and tugging Spencer inside with you with a gentle but excited insistence.

The bakery looked amazing, although much closer to a café. It had a small quaint European feel to it despite it being on a main Street in New York City, and surprisingly, it wasn’t that busy either. It was the exact type of bakery that Spencer had hoped it would be.

You scour the chalkboard menu for a second to make sure they actually had everything you wanted before going up to order, and Spencer noticed as your hand slid downwards to the inside of his wrist so that you could lean forward to see the chalk whilst still keeping yourself anchored to him.

He was definitely blushing now, his heart taunting him as it pounded against his chest.

Spencer wanted to ask you to kiss him, or at least hold his hand, but the thought of bringing attention to the unspoken connection the two of you had may ruin it stopped him from saying anything, not wanting to risk losing what he currently had in the very minor instance of gaining something more.

"You’re alright with sharing a croissant and a crêpe right? I figure it might be too much otherwise-"

Spencer nodded with a smile. “I don’t mind sharing a croissant and a crêpe with you.”

You give him a beamed smile and a nod as you leave his side to go and order, shutting down his offer to pay before he could even suggest it.

He subconsciously ran his fingers over his wrist as he waited for you, trying to compensate from the loss of your touch and the gentle warmth that accompanied it as he watched you engage in polite small talk with the cashier.

You looked so sweet. So perfect.

"let’s sit outside yeah? it’s a nice day," You retreat back towards him with a tray balanced in your hands, two mugs of hot chocolate joined with four coloured macarons and a single croissant and crêpe, carefully distributed to balance the weight as you carry it.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer nods at you softly, a wistful expression still on his face as he takes you by the elbow in order to help you carry the tray safely.

The reinstating of your previous contact brought a small flush back over his cheeks, and even through his hands were only brushing against the fabric of your shirt, it still felt oddly intimate.

The two of you walk over to a vacant table, set under a large parasol that casted the table in a comfortable shade.

Spencer took a seat across from you as you both sat down, separated by a small table in between the two of you.

Funny how a little table could do that.

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

"Oh my god we are definitely coming back here next time we have a case down here-" You give a satisfied sigh as you wipe your fingers on a serviette, placing it inside your empty mug and pulling out your phone to check the time.

1:17.

You should get back to the station.

The thought of having to go back dampened your mood a little, and not just because it meant you now had to spend the rest of the day bent over a desk to curate a profile.

You really enjoyed spending time with Spencer like this, whether it be accompanying him to a new museum exhibit or driving him to buy his groceries so he wouldn’t have to sit behind the wheel.

It was a small highlight of your time not spent working, and you always found yourself disheartened when it was time to leave.

“We should definitely come back.” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, catching the mild change in your expression. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah- yeah i’m good,” You give him a nod and a reassuring smile as you stand from you seat with him following not long after you. “Just not exactly looking forward to going back to work,”

“Yeah I understand what you mean,” Spencer gives a small laugh, stuffing his hands back into his pockets again.

"We should do this more often you know,” You tilt your head slightly at him, the words leaving your mouth without any thought behind them. "I uh- enjoy spending time with you like this,"

“I enjoy spending time with you too,” Spencer smiled gently.

He looked at you, feeling a slight bit of courage at your confession of enjoying spending time with him one on one.

Come on Spencer, just ask them out already.

"I’m glad," You give Spencer a half-laugh, turning away from him slightly to hide the flushed nature of your cheeks from your embarrassment.

Spencer’s eyes studied you, and he felt like now might be the time. You two were still technically off work, you loved spending time together, and you’d just spent the last half an hour listening to him rant about the new book he was reading whilst the two of you drank hot chocolate and shared french pastries with each other.

You weren’t just friends. You were more than that.

At least he hoped so.

“Can I take you out… on a date?” Spencer’s voice was soft, but it carried confidence.

"A- date?" You stop walking in the middle of the street, your body re-directing any cognitive functioning to focus on computing Spencer’s question.

Spencer stopped as you did, eyes entirely trained on your expression. He couldn’t help but look at how beautiful you were right now. Your face painted with a blush and a mild look of confusion characterised through the slight furrow in your eyebrows.

“Y- yeah… do you want to go on a date with me?”

Of course it was okay if you didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt Spencer. He’d handle the rejection. Right?

"I- Yeah-" You nod quickly, a little too enthusiastically if you were to think about it logically. “Yes,”

"I’d love to go on a date with you-" You’re words are rushed and slightly muddled together as you hastily agree to his proposition, but they get the point across.

Spencer’s face lit up with a blush as you said yes.

That’s wonderful news.

A small grin spread across his face. “I’m glad…” The words slipped out without Spencer realising it, joined by a notable fluster.

He was glad.

He was absolutely thrilled about the fact you want to go on a date with him.

Spencer was so incredibly grateful that you said yes.

“Wouldn’t- I mean- We just like went out together and got food and talked and stuff- was that… a date?-“ You gesture your hand back to the bakery café the two of you had just left.

You weren’t exactly wrong, and he understood your confusion.

“I suppose it follows the motions of a date,” Spencer looked at you, overtaken by how perfectly ethereal you looked with the breeze fluttering against your shirt and a blush covering your cheeks.

“But an actual date would be much more romantic.” His words were confident, even if he was embarrassed that he was admitting to you just how much of a romantic he was underneath his façade of being uninterested in finding someone.

"So it wasn’t a date?” You raise an eyebrow slightly, fiddling with your sleeves. “Because I want to kiss you but if it wasn’t a date then I can’t because you can’t kiss someone without going on a date with them first because it breaks date etiquette-”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble without taking a single breath. You wanted to kiss him?

You wanted to kiss him.

Spencer was trying to keep his emotions in check as he stared at you. Your words made him tingle with excitement. “Um… you can- still kiss me if you want…?”

You shake your head with determination. “You can’t kiss someone before you’ve been on a date with them,”

Spencer looked so utterly confused.

So, you didn’t want to kiss him?

He wanted to kiss you.

“Why not? Your logic makes no sense. Why can’t kiss me?” Spencer was so utterly confused, his eyebrows knitted in a way that made you want to plant your lips between them as he tried to understand what your issue was.

"My logic makes complete sense-" You cross your arms over your chest as you gesture for the two of you to keep walking with a nod of your head.

"Everybody knows that you never kiss somebody until the end of the first date, it curses your whole future relationship otherwise,"

Spencer couldn’t help but stare at you blankly.

What he heard you say was wrong. Really wrong.

You should kiss someone whenever you want to kiss someone. Especially if they’re your crush.

But you were adamant you couldn’t kiss Spencer because of this stupid arbitrary rule.

"Well, if you’d have agreed to my judgement that our bakery stop was a date then you’d be getting a kiss," You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, lips pressed into a straight line. "But you don’t, therefore I can’t kiss you,"

Spencer stared at you in disbelief as you spoke, before his eyes widened.

He knew what you wanted to hear, and so he gave in.

It was the only way he’d get a kiss.

“Okay okay- It was a date at the bakery I was wrong-”

He hated how desperate he sounded, but you were so beautiful, you were stunning, you were the most gorgeous person he ever met.

Spencer wanted to be with you. And you were giving him an in to finally press his lips against your perfect face.

"Are you sure?" You furrow your eyebrows at him in mock accusation, agains stopping in your tracks to stand in front of him with your eyes fixed on his face.

Spencer sighed. “I… yes. It was a date. I was just being silly…” Spencer took your hand for a moment as he spoke to you, interlacing his fingers in yours and feeling the warmth of your hands against his frigidly cold ones.

He wanted you to know that he felt a lot differently towards you compared to how he’d felt about anyone else.

You were special.

And he wanted you.

"Right you are pretty boy," You give his hand a small squeeze as you use your other to cup his face, pulling it towards you with a gentle insistence so that you could press a chaste kiss to those perfect pink lips that had just been begging you to silence them. "You were being silly,"

Spencer’s face lit up with another blush as you called him pretty boy.

Of course you thought Spencer was pretty. Not handsome or beautiful.

Pretty.

He let himself be pulled in closer as you spoke to him teasingly, telling him that he was being silly.

And then… your lips. Pressed against his with a soft pressure that he gladly returned.

That was all it took for Spencer to feel like the luckiest man on earth.

"Here’s to a successful first date," You chuckle softly as your lips part, your noses brushing as you lean back to admire the rosy tint to his cheeks and the beaming smile that accompanied it.

Spencer felt so happy. So overwhelmingly, sickeningly happy.

And so, he did a thing that he never thought he had the courage to do. He pulled you into his arms, leaning in to kiss you with so much fervour that you were relying on the strength of his hands on your waist for stability.

Spencer didn’t know when he’d get the opportunity to do this again. So he was 100% going to make the most of it.

You can’t help the smile that erupts on your face as he pulls you in again, your hands cradling his cheeks and your head tilted ever so slightly to the left as you rested your weight into his hands.

If you’d recorded this moment and told him it was a scene from a cheesy romance movie he would’ve believed you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away due to the unfortunate human necessity of breathing, you catch a glance at the watch face on the inside of your wrist.

1:29.

“Shit- We really need to get back to the station.” Your hands fall from his face to grab one of his own, pulling him down the streets as you hurry back to the police station, mildly out of breath and still completely flustered.

“So-“ Spencer pulled a small resistance against your hands as the two of you stopped outside of the door.

“We’re going on a second date once we get home right?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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inuyashaluver · 6 months

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spam - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which you always spam your girlfriend’s phone when it’s left unattended around you, she swears it’s annoying until you discover something interesting

warnings: swearing, suggestive

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

your girlfriend alessia swore she could never leave her phone around you. not because she didn’t trust you, or because you don’t trust her. you spam her phone. you spam her phone so often that alessia swears it’s annoying. however, she’s lying to you because she absolutely loves it.

one day, you and your national team mates were out at dinner, you taking your regular seat in between alessia and ella, making quite a deadly trio.

“I’ll just quickly run to the loo, I’ll be right back”, she places her arm over your chair, giving you a quick peck before disappearing to the bathroom. you smile up at her and watch her leave.

once the coast was clear. you immediately grab her phone that was placed on the table, opening up her camera and taking multiple selfies of yourself in various poses and expressions, you and ella, quickly getting up and taking selfies with the teammates closest to you. you then decide to record a quick video,

“hi lessi baby! I have your phone, uh, I love you! you better keep all those pictures! I don’t know what else to say but yeah! I love you my lessi bear, you’re my favourite just don’t tell anyone”

you end the video by kissing her camera and giving a cheesy grin before placing her phone down. you knew that alessia didn’t check your spams and just deleted them straight away so you weren’t really fazed by your cheesy video. alessia came back and already knew you spammed her phone.

“you’ve done it again, haven’t you?” she moves to whisper in your ear, moving a piece of hair behind your ear. she giggled when you look at her shocked,

“what! no!” you scoff,

“funny how you know what I’m talking about before I even say anything” she squished your cheeks between her hand, forming your lips into a pout and placing a kiss there. “you’re silly, baby” she says lowly, your cheeks blush lightly.

both of you went back to your hotel room, you immediately going to shower.

alessia was bored waiting for you, she pulls out her phone. she rolls onto her stomach, head resting on her chin and slowly kicking her legs back and forth.

she decided to have a look at your daily spam. one of her favourite parts of the day but she would never tell you that.

she smiled so brightly at the phone screen, seeing your cute selfies by yourself and her teammates. she was so in love with you. each photo, she would add to her favourites, as well as her folder labelled “my girl ❤️”. she finally stumbled on your video,

she watched the video once, the biggest smile on her face. she put her head into the pillow and let out a tiny noise of enjoyment. she then takes her head out of the pillow and giggles , watching and replaying the video multiple times.

“hah! you do watch them!” you spoke out in the quiet room, only sounds heard was alessia’s giggles and your voice from your video.

she jumps and turns her phone off, “love, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“as if russo! I saw you kicking your feet and twirling your hair to me, you don’t need to hide it baby” god you loved this girl, your voice full of affection.

she ran her hands over face, going bright red. you move across the room and move to straddle her waist. you giggle at her, when she squirms under you. too embarrassed that you caught her swooning over you.

“baby,” you coo, “look at me please” she moves her hands, moving to rest them on your exposed thighs, she takes in your appearance, you’re clad with her shorts and wearing her shirt. “oh my god” she groans, closing her eyes and lightly squeezing your thighs.

“what baby?” you question, “you’re killing me, love” she shakes her head, grinning at you. you smile down at her, moving to place a sweet kiss on her lips. before you pull away, she grabs the base of your neck, deepening the kiss. your tongues swirling with each other. you both whine into each others mouths, alessia grins and you pull away from her. hovering your lips over hers,

you peck her lips multiple times before peppering her entire face with little kisses. she giggles when you lean down and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. she moves her hand into your shirt, lightly scratching your back with her nails. you were giving her the love she deserves.

you place a kiss on her pulse point and she immediately switches positions and instead straddles you. she smiles, hovering over you, grasping your cheek in her hand and moving to kiss your cheek, then your forehead, your neck and finally your lips. another short make out session quickly progresses. her hands move to your waist, she squeezes your hips and you whine into her again. this encourages her and before it can go any further, your door almost breaks down.

“I hope you two aren’t fucking! we’re going out for drinks, get ready!” ella bangs on your door in warning. alessia pulls away from you, pupils dilated, both of you messy haired and swollen lipped. “I love you, but we should definitely go before they walk in on something you can’t finish” you say, pressing your finger into her chest,

“remind me to kill tooney?” she kisses your lips quickly and moves off you.

both of you got ready quickly, both of you wearing sunglasses for some fun, wanting to match. as soon as the girls saw you at the club they were at, they immediately made fun of you for being so attached to each other. “look at you two with your glasses, we get it, you’re dating!” ella says, completely in love with her two best friends relationship.

“shut it tooney” alessia smiles, she hands you her bag, “I’ll get us drinks baby, be a good girl and wait here for me” she gives you another quick kiss and you smile at her before immediately grabbing her phone out of the bag.

you put your glasses on for the pictures and spam her phone again, not realising that alessia was coming back quickly, you kept taking the photos in various poses and faces. she walks up behind you kissing your cheek before sliding down her glasses and posing for the photos. you laugh loudly at her. you take your drink and look up at her, “you’re so cute lessi”

she kisses your nose, “you’re cuter my girl, do me a favour and keep taking photos for my collection please” she won't even deny it anymore, shamelessly wanting as much content of you as she can.

she watches as you move around the room with her phone, taking photos with everyone before returning to her. sitting in her lap, wanting to just sit with your girl and take photos. everyone in the team was admiring you two, you were both so clearly in love with each other it was endearing.

alessia adds all her pictures to her folder. when you fall asleep that night, you rest on top of her while she scrolls through your spam, grinning and kissing the top of your head. good thing she has a lot of storage, she loves this more than anything.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

alessiarusso99: baby girl spams my phone and expects me not to post it @/yourname

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yourname: this is a good one from the collection lessi baby!

↳ alessiarusso99: I love my collection

↳ yourname: trust me I know baby 😉

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #lessi russo

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cometkenji · 13 days

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ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves - I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet.

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach. Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good.

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask.

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis.

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.”

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist.

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents.

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him.

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it’s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out.

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?”

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.”

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it.

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up.

No, it wasn’t.

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room.

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.”

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job.

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost.

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder.

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.”

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.”

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

–

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling.

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed.

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team.

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.”

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.”

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.”

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief.

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human.

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours.

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place.

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass.

“I’m Matthew.”

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area.

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink.

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.”

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.”

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed.

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored.

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.”

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.”

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core.

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke.

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.”

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately.

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless.

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden.

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

“He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past.

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.”

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes.

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought.

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive.

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own.

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car.

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car.

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to.

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you.

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels.

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

#comet: SR #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x chubby reader #x fat reader #x plus size reader #spencer reid x chubby reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid x fat reader #spencer reid fanfiction #suggestive #probably ass #im sorry for this

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specialagentlokitty · 23 days

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Bau x reader - family time

something where there’s a case in readers hometown, and readers mom invited the team over for dinner ?? - Anon💜

It was a small community, so it didn’t surprise you when your mom texted you a few hours after your arrival demanding that you go to her house.

With a sigh, you messaged her back and explained that you couldn’t because you were working, but you’d come by after the case was finished.

After deciding that was too long your mom came down to the station you were working at.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!”

The whole team shot up and spun around, so did you.

“Mom?! Seriously?!”

She grinned from ear to ear, and you laughed softly, walking over to hug your mom, and she held you tightly in her arms.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t come see your mother.” She lightly scolded.

“Come on mom, I’m working I already told you this. How come you’re here? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Pulling away, you led your mom to your chair and sat her down, then leant against the table as you looked down at her.

“You know you shouldn’t be walking so far with that hip of yours mom.”

“Ah my hip is fine, I can still walk.”

You sighed.

“Your doctor told you to take it easy, remember what happened last time? You couldn’t get out of bed for two days without help.”

Your mom waved her hand dismissively at you, then turned to the rest of the team who were watching with curiosity and amusement.

“Who are your friends?”

You smiled at her, letting them all introduce themselves to your mom.

“Wow, (Y/N) never said their mom was such a beautiful woman.” Derek grinned.

“Dude! That’s my mom!”

They laughed, and you huffed a little, turning to Reid who had gone back to working.

While JJ and Emily were asking your mom for any embarrassing stories about you, you walked to your friend, standing next to him.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“I just had a thought. What’s in this area?” He asked.

You looked at the map, and you grabbed his pen, drawing some things on it before gesturing to it.

“This bit is part of the school, just after the river that part is empty, abandoned, I think it used to be a processing facility or something like that, a lot of local kids go exploring in there, sometimes graffiti and stuff that’s about it.”

Reid nodded his head, and he looked over at you.

“I need to go to the first crime scene, will you come with you.”

“Of course.”

Grabbing your jacket, you pulled it on whim Reid spoke to Hotch and you walked over to your mom, kissing the top of her head.

“I need to go, but I’ll come see you after the case, love you.”

“I love you too, be safe.”

You nodded, jogging to meet Reid by the front door.

When the case came to an end, you messaged your mom that you’d be coming after, and she asked you to bring your whole team.

You laughed a little, putting your phone in your pocket.

“Hey, do you guys fancy a little trip?”

“Where to?” Hotch asked.

“Mom wants you all to come for dinner before going, I don’t think we get a choice in this.”

The laughed but eagerly agreed.

Of course the first place Emily, JJ and Derek went was to go and find your room, trying to see if it had changed or not.

You mom had reached out to Rossi to get him to invite Garcia, so it wasn’t long until she arrived.

“Oh I can’t believe it’s your home! Where’s the baby pictures?!” She grinned.

“No!” You rushed you.

Quickly taking the folder from your mom, you held it closely.

“Aw come on! Let us see!” Garcia pleaded.

“Nope.”

“Aw darling you may have been a fat baby but you were still adorable.”

“I wasn’t a fat baby…” you huffed.

“Oh my god were you a fat baby?” Emily asked.

“No!”

Your mom lightly hit your arm.

“Yes you were, let them see.”

She took the folder back from you and you huffed, sitting down on the couch as you stroked the cat that came to cuddle with you.

Picking him up, you held him in your lap.

“I can’t believe you still have fluffy, he’s so old now.” You mumbled.

The old cat purred a little bit.

“Oh my god look at your little grin!” JJ laughed.

She turned the folder to you so you could see the phone of you covered in dirt just grinning from ear to ear.

They were having the time of their lives learning about you and what you did when you were little.

Rossi and Hotch both back back, having been given a box by your mom and set it on the table.

Rossi opened it to see your macaroni you made in second grade.

“A little artist I see.” He chuckled.

Hotch knelt down, taking a few class photos out and paintings.

“Honestly I was expecting more skateboarding or something along those lines.”

“Hotch I was four, the only thing I was interested in was eating dirt and collecting stones.”

They all laughed, and your mom came back announcing dinner was ready, so you went to help her set the table up.

You enjoyed this, just your team and your mom all together, all the people you loved under one roof

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine

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crowdedimagines · 2 months

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Roadkill - Aaron Hotchner Imagine

Based around the season 4 episode 23 titled Roadkill! I am going through a rewatch right now and just watched this one!! Also I am trying to stick to the storyline of the episode, but obviously things will be a little different in how they play out 🤩 3.6K

"How do you feel about Oregon?" JJ asks immediately after I pick up on the third ring.

"I have a feeling I would like Oregon a lot more when it isn't 3:00a.m." I tease, sitting up in bed, already knowing whatever she's calling for is going to be bad enough to to call us in this early.

"Can you be in to the office to brief in an hour? Wheels are up around 4:30."

"I'll be there!"

We both get off the phone so we can pack our go bags and get the day started, although earlier for both of us then intended. I manage to take a fast shower by the time I get out my phone is ringing again, this time it's unit leader Aaron Hotchner.

"I assume you've been informed that we have a case and we're meeting shortly." Hotch has his stern, yet tired voice on.

"Yep, showered squeaky clean. I just need some coffee and I will be on my way!" I smile, wringing out the moisture that's still in my hair and put the phone on speaker to set it down on the bathroom counter.

"I actually just made too much, I'm on my way in now. I could bring you coffee." He offers.

I pause in my actions, surprised by the offer. Although I would've been a lot more shocked a couple weeks ago. When I started with the team Hotch was going through a divorce, but in recent weeks there's been a shift in our dynamic and I'm not sure I'm dreaming it up. It all started a couple weeks back when I dropped off some baked goods after a rare long weekend away from work for him and Jack since it was his weekend to have him. They invited me to stay and I spent the rest of the afternoon with the boys. By the end of the night I was calling him by his first name instead of 'Hotch' which was a new development. Ever since it's been small gestures and looks that tell me something is different.

I've been a part of the BAU for a couple years, growing in confidence and skill the more cases I get under my belt. I spent four years in the military as a designated marksman before continuing my training with the FBI, which lead me to the Counterterrorism Division, and then to the BAU.

"That sounds great actually." I grin. Bringing me coffee to work is another new thing. Aaron has been chattier, smiling more, but coffee is a new ball park.

"Alright, I will be in around twenty. Drive safe."

I mutter back a "you too" before we both hang up. As I make my way into the office I'm the first to reach the bullpen, I came a little early once I knew Aaron was going to be in. A traveling mug is sitting on my desk and I take a long sip. It's still hot, and it's exactly how I always make it. It's also the traveling mug he almost always can be seen with. I set my bag down by my desk before climbing up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"Good morning." I knock lightly on his open door, "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

He looks up from the folder in front of him and the frown leaves his face.

"I'm glad."

I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. It'll be fifteen minutes before the rest of the team joins us. Hotch begins to fill me in on some of the details without going too much into it. We still have to brief as a team.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vehicle being used as the weapon." I surmise.

"It's highly rare. I've never seen a case likely this first hand." Aaron admits and we discuss a few more aspects of the case.

Eventually the rest of the team trickles in and after some light conversation I go back to my desk. Garcia comes in stomping directly to my desk.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Kevin is looking into a working a secret job and I wont even know where he'll be!" She gushes.

"Slow down, he what?" I spin around in my chair. Garcia fills me in on the details of the job and exactly what he had said to her. The worry on her face is permanent.

"Don't worry yet. He hasn't gotten the job, and if he's offered, you don't even know if he'll take it! Lets just wait to worry once we have something to worry about."

Penelope nods agreeing with my words before moving onto Morgan's desk to do the same and I smile and shake my head. JJ pulls us all into the conference room.

"An unsub that kills with his car." Emily states, "I haven't seen that before."

"Neither have the police in Bend, Oregon." JJ replies, displaying pictures on the screen in front of us.

"Two victims in the last twelve days." Hotch adds, "First was hit on a morning jog and the second was a woman stranded after her car broke down."

"Both female victims, but completely different age groups." I speak up, "The first victim was 23 and the second was 43."

"Maybe they aren't connected." Morgan thinks out loud.

JJ pulls up more pictures and explains that both victims were backed over after they were hit. No chance of accident and the same tread marks at both scenes.

"With where these wounds are, the worst of the blow is high on the bodies." I comment looking through the file, "It has to be a truck or SUV to match these wound patterns."

"See if Garcia can follow that. Try tracking makes and models." Aaron directs.

"There should be significant front end damage to the vehicle." Spencer chimes in.

"Unless our unsub is smart enough and skilled enough to cover his tracks." I begin, "Somehow I don't think it'll be as easy as finding a damaged truck."

It's a five hour flight from DC all the way to Bend but thankfully it gives us all the opportunity to rest up again. By the time we land we can go straight to the police station.

"I think it's safe to say our unsub is male." I read over the case file, thinking out loud with Aaron. This is something new too, we often brainstorm together and work well to get the other thinking outside the box.

"I agree." Hotch nods, "Given what we know about aggressive driving and road rage."

"And the fact that men have an unnatural bond with their cars." Emily laughs. JJ chimes in to agree, which turns into Morgan disagreeing before Rossi is also adding to it.

"I think he has to be overcompensating. Why else have a need for a truck that big." I guess.

"Possibly." Spencer comments, "If the unsub is physically defective the car not only gives the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield."

"A way for him to avoid physical contact?" Hotch asks.

"He wants power and control of his victims." Prentiss shutters, "Female victims. It almost reads like an assault profile."

"I wanna know why he isn't getting personal with it then. If this is how he assaults women, what if there's something that prevents him from going a more traditional route. It's possible he's disabled." I suggest.

Hotch tells Garcia to look into it to see if anything recent could be a trigger and to look at the people surrounding the victims. Morgan and Rossi head to the highway to get a feel for it and see what they can get from it from the second victim's scene. Hotch and I head to where the jogger was hit.

"Not a lot of people jog here. It's a physically demanding hike." The sheriff informs gesturing to the trail.

"Well, she was a triathlete." I remind.

"The assailant drove behind her and ran her down right here." The sheriff walks us in to where the red stained gravel remains.

"She was jogging alone? Any woman would know if a car was following her up the trail. Her intuition would've been driving her crazy. She would get off the trail or call for help."

"What if he was already here waiting." Hotch agrees, taking in the scene, "What if she was the reason he was here and it wasn't random. He was waiting for her specifically."

"That would mean we underestimated him. It wasn't a random attack, it was planned and vindictive.

The team meets back at the station to go over what we've discovered. The second victim's husband comes in and recalls seeing a large black truck parked by their house giving us something. This confirms that he's targeting and stalking specific individuals.

"Ready be done for the night?" Aaron asks, he peeks his head into the conference room that only I occupy at this point. The rest of the team has already gone to the hotel to call it a night, but Aaron was still talking with the husband and I was just pouring over people in the area that raised some of Garcia's flags based on what we know so far.

"I suppose." I close the file I had been reading and rub at my eyes.

"It'll still be there tomorrow." He reminds.

"I know, the sooner the better though." That's something I don't need to remind him on. We both know it all too well. With an unsub this aggressive we know he isn't stopping anytime soon.

The drive to the hotel is short and comfortably quiet. Neither Aaron or myself have the energy to discuss anything as we're going on a fifteen hour day.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Aaron carried my bag in from the car to the foot of my bed in my room, even with multiple reassurances that I could carry it just fine. I give him a soft knowing smile before he leaves for his own room.

The next morning it's discovered that the unsub sabotaged the second victims car in order to strand them. He's very focused and well planned.

"We need to figure out why he's picking these women." Hotch states, "What makes them a target and links them together."

"Road rage, maybe they cut him off at some point?" I question, "Also how does he have the time to stalking these women to know their routines, sabotage a car, park and wait."

"Roughly eight percent of the United States is unemployed." Reid rattles off.

"Including someone who could be disabled and lives off of a pension." I remind from my earlier guess."

"Have Garcia look into it." Hotch states before walking away and I smile.

"Pretty girl is on top of it this case." Morgan teases with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe it's something to do with her getting the case early and going over it with Hotch before our team briefing." Reid says with his nose already in a new file. I can feel my face turn a shade of red.

"Pretty girl is getting extra credit!" Prentiss joins in happy to tease, even adopting Morgan's typical nickname for me and Penelope.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I simply got in early and we were both at the office." I take a sip of my coffee, looking for any distraction, reaching out to grab a file for myself to ready through. I'm really glad that I didn't bring Hotch's travel mug in from the hotel, I still have it and I almost used it today. That definitely wouldn't go unnoticed with the people surrounding me.

Thankfully the team lets us move on and were able to brainstorm some more. Unfortunately it doesn't take long for JJ to interrupt to tell us there's been a third victim.

"Impact nearly cut him in two." The sheriff explains.

"Male victim?" I question as we arrive on the scene. The unsub hit him in a parking garage, pinning him between the truck and elevator doors. "He's getting more aggressive."

Cigarettes butts are discovered where the truck was parked in waiting. All of them stripped of the filter showing signs that he's military.

"Guys I think I know what ties the victims together." Reid interrupts, "All of the victims drove two door red coupes."

Garcia was able to look into car accidents that left someone injured enough to the point that he can't kill traditionally. He holds the person responsible for his accident for killing his loved one and his own disability. There's nearly twenty five people to still filter out off of the specifications we gave her.

"Wait you guys I think I found it." I sit up from the most recent file that had red flags, "Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley on route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road. His wife died at the scene."

"And Ian?" Rossi asks.

"He survived although he suffered a spinal cord injury."

Morgan and Prentiss go to his doctor to verify some information while we try to track down Ian. His house foreclosed after the accident.

"Track the parts for his specific truck. He's been doing his own repairs so they have to be sent somewhere." Rossi suggests to Garcia.

"Rossi gets a gold star!" Garcia sings, "He's having the parts drop shipped, I'm sending you guys the address."

"Hey, what do I get for knowing he would be disabled?" I jest, I called that from the plane.

"Nothing but my love, sugar." Garcia says before hanging up.

"I don't have a gold star, but well done Y/Ln." Aaron nods.

Arriving at the home Ian had been renting we find it empty but lots of surveillance photos of the victims and one other person who hasn't been harmed.

"Send this to Garcia now, we need to know who this is." Rossi hands me the picture. I send it to her and she's able to run his plate from the image.

It doesn't take her long to find him and contact his home, where she finds out that he's out biking with a group doing a thirty mile loop.

"Y/n, you're with me. We'll take the north side, Morgan and Rossi you start south and we'll meet in the middle." I quickly get in the passenger side of the SUV and Aaron takes off.

The biking club that target is in covers a lot of milage as Aaron speeds through the dirt road trying so hard to meet the group before the unsub does. Eventually we're closing in, but unfortunately the black truck is ahead of us and gaining on the bikers faster than we're gaining on him.

"Hold on." Aaron takes a risk by cutting Ian off before he can clip the mass of bicyclists. He does this by driving the front left corner of our car into the back right of his truck.

The airbags go off and were spun around from the impact.

"Y/n." Aaron calls. He says it a second time with more panic when I don't answer.

"I'm okay." I groan. The unsub is attempting to back his truck out of the ditch we're both stuck in to finish his mission. He took a much less impactful hit from our collision. I unclip my seatbelt and swing open my door, shattered glass falling from my lap as I stand up.

"Y/n, wait." Aaron instructs, he pulls hard on his seatbelt. It seems like he's stuck from the accident, but the worry on his face is only for me. I give him a look to say I've got this, while he continues to pull at his jammed seatbelt.

"Ian Coakley." I call out, and the man looks over to me briefly. It registers on his face that I am holding my gun and it's aimed for him, he has tears in his eyes.

"This is for Sheila." he floors it heading straight for the group that's waiting after witnessing the accident.

I plant my feet and aim for the back window of the truck, hoping to hit Ian's shoulder. Enough to stop him in his tracks before can harm anyone else without killing him. I've done enough killing myself over the years, and even with all he's done he's a man suffering with the grief of accidentally killing his wife.

The bullet leaves my gun with a loud crack, shattering the back window of the truck. He swerves but not enough to take him off the road. I let out a breath and fire again, this time sending a bullet into the back of his chair and sending his car off the road again to be stopped by a tree. I let out a huff of exhaustion from the impact leaning against the SUV.

Morgan and Rossi pull up and stop to get out and help Aaron and I after seeing our totaled SUV.

"Go" I wave them to keep driving to the unsub to see if he's ok and they do. Aaron manages to get out of the car finally, I hear Morgan call out to radio in an ambulance.

"He's still alive." Rossi shouts to us referring to Ian, they have him laying down now while applying pressure to his wound. The top of his shoulder which shouldn't be fatal, I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks finally rounding the back of the car to join me where I stand, he steadies himself. I nod, finally putting my gun away, feeling how stiff my body is.

Aaron fully ignores my nod, taking my head in his hands and pulling my eyelid open to check for signs of a brain bleed. He wipes at my forehead, pulling back his hand with blood on it. Maybe we were hit harder than I thought. Damn airbags.

"I think you have a concussion-" He states, "and you might need stitches."

The worry on his face is deep. I can feel the guilt radiating off of him, he was the one driving. He's the one that chose to hit the unsub's truck.

"I'm okay!" I reassure him, placing my hands on top of his that still rest on my head. This is crossing a new line. He's never touched my face, and I've never touched his hands like this.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was reckless."

"I'm glad you did." I disagree, "If we had waited any longer he would've been able to get his last victim. There's an entire biking club alive right now because of you."

This reminder seems to help slightly, he looks over my shoulder where the crowd remains. I pull him in for a hug, both of us shaking slightly from the adrenaline. After a while we pull apart, the rest of the team arrives as well as a couple ambulances. One takes Ian away immediately, escorted with two police officers as well.

"It took two shots? You're losing your touch." Morgan teases, thowing an arm around my shoulder that makes me wince a little. My phenomenal aim has always been a touchy subject with him, not liking being second.

"I'm concussed and he was driving fast." I defend, fully knowing how whiny I sound.

"Statically of our entire team Y/n would be the only one likely to have made that shot with the variable speed that Ian Croakley was traveling at." Spencer chimes in.

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason." I grin pulling Spence in for a hug effectively shaking off Morgan's arm.

"Yeah, whatever." Morgan shrugs, ruffling the hair in top of Spencer's head.

"Ma'am, you really need to get looked at." The emt reminds, interrupting our conversation. I leave the group and look over to see Aaron sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. We both finish getting evaluated, thankfully nothing too serious that we have to delay our flight home.

"You were right about the concussion." I grin walking up to Aaron as the sheriff walks off.

"And it would seem the stitches too." He reaches out again, thumb hovering over the threading sticking out of my forehead.

"Yeah, should make fore a pretty badass scar." I tease.

"I'm sure it will." He smiles, a real smile. The Aaron smile that I have seen so rarely, but more frequent lately. The plane ride back home is quiet, everyone drained, Aaron and I just flat out sore. By the time we get back to the BAU, Aaron sends everyone home saying the paperwork can wait for the following day. Everyone clears out and he goes back up to his office.

"Not following your own advice?"I question, walking into his office. I make my way round to his side of the desk and lean back on it. The edge of my thigh just barely meeting the outside of his arm from where he sits.

"Just wrapping up a few things before." He sets down his papers, his eyes raking all the way up me from toe to head, we both pretend I don't notice.

"You know, since I have a concussion they said I need to be under observation. No sleeping, crazy delusions, slipping into comas that sort of thing. You know anyone who wants to stay awake with me?"

"I can think of someone" He smirks, "I can put on a pot of coffee."

I pull out the to go mug he had brought my coffee in a few days ago out of my tote and hold it out to him.

"Take me home Aaron."

AHHHHHHHH i hope yall like this! i haven't written in forever to it was honestly just fun to do! :)

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n

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hotchgirlsummer · 1 year

Text

i'm a mess but

⤷ aaron hotchner x reader

summary ⤷ Aaron has this date all planned out but things seem to fall apart and they're forced to improvise.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ fluff! slight angst - reader opens up about her horrible dates. aaron mentions haley, her death, and how he feels about it (briefly). not a warning but jack and jess make an appearance!

word count ⤷ 7k words

a/n ⤷ HELLLOOOOOO! i wasn't really expecting the first part to blow up but the support and love i received in my first bimbo!reader fic was so overwhelming 🥺🥺🥺 thank you to everyone who read the first one and i hope this second part lives up to your guys' expectation and to your liking. i received three requests involving aaron and bimbo!reader so i'll be working on the two before incorporating the third request in part three of this saga! also i have a possible plot for spencer reid x bimbo!reader and i'm trying to gauge if you guys would be interested in that? as always, feedback is appreciated. have a day as fantastic as yourselves!!! ❤️❤️

masterlist | part one: mess of mine

✪

“And just as a reminder, we will be having the weekends off for this month as Strauss has deemed we deserve a break after the continuous cases that took away most of our time,” Hotch reiterates before they end their final meeting for the week. This announcement was met with cheers and applause by the rest of the team. “Anyway you can have them extend our weekends off for the next, say, 12 months?”

This time Hotch cracked a smile as he gathered his files and into his folder as he shook his head, “Only way you can have that is by making a wish to a genie.” The team looked among themselves, each of their faces etched with surprise and amusement as they rarely got to witness their unit chief ride in on their jokes; behind their entertained expressions, they were curious as to what prompted this change. Rossi schooled his expression as well, despite knowing about the cause for Aaron’s welcome change in demeanor, he knew that his friend wanted to share the little ray of sunshine he found on his own terms. “If there’s nothing else, you all are dismissed for the rest of the week. Have a good one.”

As the team slowly dispersed out of the room, Hotch found Rossi smirking at him to which he raised an eyebrow at him, “Penny for your thoughts, Dave?” To which the mentor looked around the round table to ensure that everyone but them had left, “So, I’m assuming tonight’s the first date then?”

The faintest shade of red littered Aaron’s cheeks as he nodded and exited out of the room, “Tonight is the first date, yes. I’m picking her up after her shift at 7.”

Rossi looks at his watch and smiles upon seeing that their unit chief had a solid hour prior to picking up his date for the night. “Normally I’d wish someone good luck on their first date,” Hotch appreciated in that moment how Rossi leaned into his ear to whisper that as to not catch the attention of the nosy profilers, “But something tells me you would not need it in this scenario. Have a great weekend, Aaron.”

“You too, Dave. Try sticking to one jazz club this time, yes?”

Chuckling when Rossi flipped him off, Aaron hurriedly packed all of his things in his briefcase before heading out of the office. As he waited impatiently for the elevator to bring him to the floor of their parking lot. Turning on the radio, Hotch found himself smiling upon hearing a pop song — that he once was not familiar with until he started talking with Y/N. What started as constant texts, transitioned into hour long phone calls where their topics of conversation ranged from her opinions on how the internet’s influence on fashion trends have both been good and bed, her singing him the new song she had stuck in her head — which explains how he was now familiar with a lot of the songs that were played in the radio — but the one thing that seems to be a constant subject is how he would look good in certain styles of clothing.

Once home, he was delighted to see that Jack had been all cheery from his day at school and soccer practice. He indulges in his son’s excited recollection of his day, relishing in the giggles he let out everytime his son praised the dinner that was prepared for him; though it was just chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, and some fries, he supposes that if it were made with love it would taste like a fine meal. It was like time passed by quickly after their meal as Jack was already bathed and dressed in his jammies before 6:45. After a quick chat with Jess, he was out the door and anxiously driving to the boutique. Once parked right out by the store, he was just in time to see his sweetheart exiting the front door and closing the aluminium security shutters. Jumping out of the car, he surprised her by gently pulling her back and lowering the shutters. “Aaron!” Came her surprised giggle, hugging his arm and looking at him like he was her whole world. “You’re here!”

“I did promise to take you out on a date, right?” He teased once he was sure the chutters were secured. Chuckling, she nodded her head as she smiled widely, “You did! And I was so excited for our date, you know? Phoebe got so annoyed with me talking her ears off about how handsome you were and how nice you are.”

Grateful that she was too busy rambling so she couldn’t witness Aaron blushing, he walked her to his car, opening the passenger door to reveal a bouquet of pink and white flowers; handing them to her with a smile he spoke, “For you, sweetheart.”

“Aaron! They’re so pretty!” She squealed excitedly and threw her arms around him, nuzzling her face in his shoulder, “Thank you, thank you! You’re spoiling me way too much already!”

“Well I have to, sweetheart,” He explained as he helped her in the car before quickly jogging to the driver’s side and continuing on, “Have to treat you like a queen, you know?”

“Does that mean you’re my handsome king?” Her question had him reciprocating the sweet smile she had on before reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles and affirmed, “I’ll be whatever you need me to be, sweetheart.” And in turn, that made heat spread throughout her face.

The drive to the restaurant was short yet filled with so much light and conversation. Stepping out of the vehicle once Aaron opened the door for her, she smiled at him, “Thank you, Ay-ay-ron.”

Before entering the restaurant, the couple were met with views of disgruntled customers, some of them having wet stains on their dresses while others seemed to have food stains on them. Puzzling her, she looks up at Aaron, “I wonder if they’re alright.”

They were about to find out for themselves upon reaching the host’s stand and announced their arrival, “Reservation for Hotchner, please.” The host who had their back turned faced them with an uneasy smile as they too were trying to rid the blemishes and food stains that unfortunately clung onto his work clothes; he looked down on the their tablet that served as their scheduler and frowned upon looking up at them, “I have to sincerely apologise, Mr. Hotchner. There has been an unfortunate incident, one of our servers tripped which caused this domino effect to the other servers, causing them to drench our customers and staff in food. Not to mention that one of our new chefs in training caused an identical chaos at the back.”

“You can use a butter knife to get rid off the food there,” She pointed to both the host’s shoulders that had some food residue that looked very well edged in the fabric; next thing she noticed wine stains by their chest, “And for the wine, putting hydrogen peroxide and dishwashing liquid in the stain for about ten minutes will get it out.” The way she shared the information so casually paired with the way she tilted her head to the side and pursed her glossy lips made it all the more surprising that she new what to do; but beside her, Aaron felt nothing but pride swell in his chest as he pressed her closer to him by her waist.

“I appreciate your advice, ma’am,” The host then faced Aaron once more before saying, “Unfortunately we are not in any capacity to entertain our beloved guests for the rest of the evening. We’ll put a note to put you in our priority list for next time if that sounds fair?” Nodding as he held back a frown of his own, the unit chief understood that things were past their control, “That would be much appreciated, thank you.”

With that the couple then left the restaurant, Aaron tried to school his features as he tried to hide the panic in his face; however as Y/N looked up to see him she pouted as she saw that there was a slight furrow in his eyebrows. Reaching up to rub the skin between them she cooed, “Don’t frown, Aaron. Why are you even frowning?”

Almost immediately a smile replaced the mentioned frown as he explained, “Well since the restaurant is a bust, I’m sensing that I’ve just wasted your time, sweetheart. The date’s pretty much ruined already.” Her offended gasp took him aback, causing them to stop just as he was about to open his car door for her, “Well good thing a dinner is not the only you go out for a date! Plus, you just saved me, you know?”

“Saved you from exactly what, sweetheart?”

“From having a fancy dinner! Don’t get me wrong, the décor looks amazing and all, but sometimes their menu is so hard to pronounce too! Like just say roasted, why use sweltering? And don’t get me started on their alcohol — bordeaux, wine, brandy? It’s all just so confusing,” As he walked her to the passenger seat and helped her in, he just chuckled lightly as he tried to console her, “They do tend to differ in ingredients and alcohol percentage.”

“Even you get it,” She whines out to which he now smoothed the furrow she had which quickly disappeared upon feeling his touch in her skin. Swiftly moving to the driver’s side, Aaron looked at her with a soft expression before asking, “Why don’t I get your mind off of it then? How would you like to spend our time together?”

His heart melted at the excited grin she had as she thought deep about how to spend their date before rambling, “We could go bowling in this place on 6th Avenue, oh but they have league games today. Oh! How about we go to this drive-in theatre just by the outskirts of town?” Just as he was about to agree to her suggestion she pouted once more, “But wait, their movie for tonight is a kid’s one, Megamind, I think.” Her excited gasp accompanied by her light taps to Aaron’s shoulder made it evident how excited she was by her current idea, “We could go right into the city centre! They have different kinds of food trucks this day of the week!”

“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?” He got her affirmation as she buckled her seatbelt up and nodded, “Sure do, Aarbear! I heard there was a food truck that would sell raspberry and cherry cotton candy.”

“Aarbear?” He questioned the nickname although he could not deny the warm feeling that washed over him upon being granted to him. She hummed, “Ever since we last saw each other, I’ve been thinking of cute nicknames for you; since you call me sweetheart. Aarbear is my favourite just because you remind me of a teddy bear. Just so snuggly and cute.”

“Snuggly and cute? Sweetheart, have you taken a good look at me? I’m the farthest thing from that don’t you think?” Aaron playfully countered as he relished in their playful banter. “You know what? Yeah, I have taken a good look at you and if I say so for myself you always look dashing and,” Her train of thought was cut off when she gasped out loud and saw the coat he was wearing, “And I thought I told you to wear the pink suit I got you! Why didn’t you?”

By that time, they had already reached the public parking that was allocated for the food truck event, Aaron looked at her chuckling as he thought she wasn’t serious about her little plan for the pink suit she gifted him; but upon seeing her expression which consisted of a frown with her wobbly lips and a furrowed brow, he knew that it was serious and important to her. Hoping to appease her feelings, Hotch then lifted his hand up to rub on her cheek gently and as she nuzzled herself deeper into his warmth, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I might have mentioned it before, but I don’t really know how to pair up clothes, you know? That’s why my suits and slacks have always matched.”

Placing her chin centre on his palm, she shoots him a smile as her upset expression now melting into an excited one as she speaks, “Does that mean I get to dress you up? I get to rifle through your wardrobe?” Removing herself from his hold, they both tried to ignore how empty it felt when they were not within each other’s reach; but to help diminish the emptiness they felt Y/N then laced her hand with his large one and grinned, “Next time we go out for a date, we go to your house first so I can dress you up and make you even more handsome! Oh there’s this new sweater line that came out and I wanna see how the sweater brings out the brown in your eyes.”

“Already planning our next date, sweetheart? You already want me around you that much?” Unsure of whether he can handle the truth of her answer, Aaron kissed her knuckles as he made his way out of the car and opened the passenger door for her. Leaping out to wrap her arms around his large figure as she hummed against his shoulder, “I sure do, Aarbear. So hopefully you don’t get sick of me right away.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, sweetheart,” Aaron reassured her as they began walking towards the plethora of food trucks that were present in the little festival going on, “Besides, the only thing I plan on getting sick on is a ton of cotton candy. Was raspberry your favourite flavour?”

Failing to hide how giddy she was at his sincere revelation, she smiled as she laced her fingers with his and dragged him to where the food truck that sold cotton candies were. “I do like the grape-flavoured ones, do you have a favourite?” It was in that moment that Aaron wished he had a camera permanently lodged into his brain so he could capture the way her eyes sparkled as she inquired more about his interests. He hummed as they stood in line in front of the food truck, “I don’t think I’ve explored enough of these flavours to have a definite favourite.”

Her gasp paired with the soft tap on the shoulder was another thing that was quickly becoming a favourite of Aaron’s. Upon reaching the front of the line, Y/N took charge and ordered three kinds of cotton candy. As she reached down for her wallet, she was caught off guard at how quick her date was in tapping his own credit card against the machine.

“Aaron! Why didn’t you let me pay?”

The two walked a few feet away and sat down on the bench nearby before he smiled and pinched some cotton candy and offered it to her, “Now what kind of man would I be if I even let you touch your wallet throughout our date?”

Returning the favour by feeding him some cotton candy as well, she pursed her lips as she concluded, “A handsome gentleman, still. And don’t ever think differently.” From there on they fell into an easy conversation which ranged from childhood shenanigans to workplace happenings. For Y/N this was a complete 360 switch to see Aaron’s eyes crinkled in joy and his posture relaxed; seeing him so serious and stiff on their first meeting gave her the impression he’d be too uptight. In her mind, she’d do anything to keep the beautiful smile on his face. “Wait, so Garcia was able to access the file that I didn’t know the password to?”

“Took her less than five minutes to do that, sweetheart,” Aaron informed her as the two wiped their mouths of any crumbs and threw the container in the trash before strolling once more to get more food, “What else are you in the mood for?”

“Can we get some tacos? It’s been quite a while since I’ve had some,” With that Aaron led the way as he spotted the specific truck sooner, “So Garcia can hack into anything?” As they stood in line in front of other patrons, Y/N made sure to only whisper her question so as to not attract any unwanted attention from curious ears, something that did not escape Aaron’s observant nature and something he appreciated.

“Absolutely, it only takes her about ten minutes to do so. There’s rarely anything she can’t crack,” He answers, however he’s left more puzzled as she stands on her tiptoes and whispers in his ear, “Do you think she can hack into something for me?”

“What exactly do you need to get hacking into, sweetheart?”

At that, her glossed up lips — which compared to last time that was a soft red shade, this time around she had a flushed pink hue with a slight shimmer to it — formed a pout as her eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she recounts, “Because I signed up for Snapchat a year ago and then now I forgot which password I used to it, it reached to a point where I’ve tried so many times that they told me I’m no longer allowed to try guessing. And I wanna get access back to it because everytime I take a cute selfie of myself I send it there.”

By the end of her story, they reached the front of the line and Aaron paused their conversation for a while to order for the two of them; his heart fluttered when Y/N patted his shoulder gently as she whispered, “Extra cheese on mine, please.”

Once they were handed their food, the two stepped away and once again found a bench to give them privacy. Before even taking a bite from her taco, she faced him and her face was once again etched with concern, “So? Do you think Garcia will help me? I can give her a cute little outfit in the boutique if she does. Or whatever else she wants, promise.”

Smiling at her as he allowed his first bite to go down before replying, “I’m sure she’d love to assist you even without the promise of repayment.” She was midbite when she looked up at Aaron, cheese at the side of her mouth as she seemed confused with what he meant before he clarified as he wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, “I’ll let her know you need help, sweetheart.”

Shrieking out of excitement wasn’t the only way she expressed her relief but also with the way she tried her best to wrap her arms around him without causing both their tacos to crack as they hit the ground, “Thank you, Aar! Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that! Do you think Garcia will like cupcakes or cookies more? I’ve been meaning to bake since it’s been a while, you know.”

“I know for a fact she wouldn’t mind either one, sweetheart,” He leaned closer as if he was sharing a secret and whispered in her ear, “But I do know you and her will get along well.”

Her nose scrunched up in excitement as she shimmied her shoulders in a little dance, “You did mention she likes little quirky gadgets and she dresses a lot like I do. Maybe she and I can go shopping sometime? You mentioned you work with other ladies too right? Alexa and GG?”

“Alex and JJ, sweetheart,” He gently corrects her as threw his napkin after finishing his taco in the nearby bin, “But yes, I’m sure they’d love to meet you. Maybe in the near future we can set that up?”

Her excited nod caused some of the taco sauce to spread past her lips, prompting Aaron to wipe the sides of her mouth as she replied, “Do you think they’d like me though? Some people I’ve met before say I’m too much or you know,” The slight pause between her train of thought made him worry about what previous perceptions were about her so he encouraged her on, “Know what exactly, sweetheart?”

Perhaps it was the way he gently coaxed her or the way he rubbed her back was full of care but it got her talking as she mentioned, “It’s just, people like my friends say that I’m dumb, that I’m no fun to be around with,” She sniffled a little which proved to be the wrong thing to do as it accidentally got some sauce on her nose, to which she scowled a little and threw the wrapper away and she felt a sudden wave of shyness take over her as Aaron was quick to wipe by her nose, “I don’t have very many people who stay — except for my family, I guess, but they don’t really have that much of a choice — so I don’t know,” She looks up at him and it was only then that Aaron got a good look of her eyes that had a glimmer of both hope and sadness, “I’d really like for you to stay, Aar.”

“I’d like that too,” Came his immediate reply as he brought her into his warm embrace, tucking her head underneath his chin as he tried to get across every ounce of affection he had had for her, “I promise I’ll keep you close to me, sweetheart.”

Slightly detaching herself from his hold to take a good look on his face, she smiled up at him, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re one of the most handsome men in the world? If not the most? Like, inside and out,” She pulled away fully from his embrace and frowned as she recalled her statement, “No wait, I don’t think it works that way. Do you mind being called beautiful? I know some guys are uncomfortable with that. Or maybe I can call you a pretty boy?”

Shaking his head at her silly antics he just kissed her forehead and teased her, “I thought Aarbear was the nickname you had for me?”

“I guess that’s just one of the struggles for when you’re the most perfect man in the world, hm? Having too many options for a nickname since you’re everything good,” she giggled.

Just as he was about to reply with some sort of a witty comeback, the shrill tone of his phone broke them out of their trance. Dread filled his gut immediately at the thought of a case whisking him away from a great date; he shot her an apologetic expression before saying, “Sorry,” And answering the phone and being pleasantly surprised that it was just Jess calling, “Jess? Is everything alright?”

Deciding to keep herself preoccupied while Aaron tends to his call, Y/N mindlessly grabbed for his free hand and slowly traced over the lines on his hand and smiled upon noticing how much larger his hand was and when she lined up her hand against his, she rubbed the skin of it and realised that she could get used to the warm feeling of his touch.

“I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” Aaron apologised as he pocketed his phone and that seemed to break her out of her trance as she looked up at him and mirrored the small frown he was sporting, “That was Jess, she’s the aunt of my son. She said he awoke from a nightmare and won’t calm down. Apparently, he’s been asking for me and refuses to go back to sleep until he sees me.”

“Then you should go to him,” Was her instant reply as she stood up on her feet and held out her hand for him to take, “Let’s go to your sweet boy, Aarbear.”

Taking her by the hand, he smiled at her as he led the way back to the car he decided to check in with her, “I’m sorry to spring this on you, sweetheart, but I’m a single father to a five year old.”

Upon being helped into the passenger seat she waited for Aaron to buckle himself in beside her before asking, “So what’s he like? And what’s his name?” The unit chief could not hold back the smile from how sincere she was in her curiosity. “Jack is a talented soccer player, he’s slowly getting into music and he can’t wait to audition for their spring play. I will say though he takes a lot of traits from his mom, which might be a good thing for him, honestly.”

Scoffing in offence, she gently scolded him, “Do not talk about yourself in that way, Aarbear! You’re smart, kind, funny, always keeping alert and all that. You have a lot of good qualities, you know.” There was a comfortable silence that took over for a few minutes before they were at a red light where it got Y/N thinking, “Wait, so if you have a son he has a mother, right?”

“I do believe that is how biology works, sweetheart,” His lighthearted joke was his attempt to soften the upcoming difficult conversation they were definitely going to have in light of her recent discovery of his son.

“Where is his mom then? Wait,” She panicked as she looked at him and gently held onto his forearm, “Oh God, please don’t tell me I’m making you cheat on your wife. That I’m not the other woman.”

Her somber pout while adorable made his heart clench as he realised she was concerned about what Haley meant to him as it shows how serious their relationship is to her. So he reached over the console and rubbed her knee comfortingly, “You’re not the other woman, sweetheart. Jack’s mother, Haley, is not in the picture.”

“Why not? Is she okay?”

Her kind nature came through once more and every time Aaron has a glimpse of it, it makes him feel like he’s in this trance-like dream where his dream woman came to life by merely manifesting it. “She unfortunately passed away. We had this unsub — bad guy — who went after me and my family.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Aar,” Y/N sympathized once Aaron was parking his car in their assigned stall. Once parked he looked at her and there was a slight tremble in his lips as he shared with her, “She was killed, and he was about to go after Jack but I was able to put a stop to it before doing so.”

“You saved Jack,” She reminded him of his heroic act as she smoother over his trembling lips with her thumb as she tried to comfort him the same way he did her everytime she nearly spiralled into overthinking negatively, “You didn’t kill Haley, the bad guy did. That’s not your fault, okay?”

Slightly rotating his head so he could press a quick kiss to her palm, he smiled at her, “Thank you for that reminder, sweetheart; I needed that.”

Feeling the heat creeping up her cheeks she smiled too and grinned before gasping out, “Wait, we’re here already, right?” At his confirming hum, she then quickly said, “We need to get to your boy!”

Aaron found himself frowning not because their moment was cut short, but he was unable to open the door for her and escort her out of the vehicle. Upon reaching the elevator of the building, he noticed Y/N was bouncing on her heels as if she were nervous. Just as he was about to check in on her, the elevator had a soft ping and opened the doors to reveal that they were on their floor. Gently placing his hand behind her back, he led her to their apartment and he hated that his sweaty hands slightly dampened her dress; but she didn’t seem to mind it and instead unknowingly calmed him down by smiling brightly at him.

Upon entering their living space, Aaron could vaguely hear Jess keeping Jack occupied by talking to him. “Jack? Buddy? I’m home,” Aaron called out gently as he made his way by the hallway while Y/N settled by their couch as she didn’t want to intrude any more than she already had.

Almost instantly the sound of pitter patter of tiny feet, “Dad!” Jack ran towards his father’s embrace and Aaron opened his arms as he allowed his son to nuzzle into his neck and carry him. “How are you feeling, bud? Aunt Jess said you couldn’t go to sleep?”

He rubbed his eyes with his hands as he frowned, “Yes, had a nightmare, dad. I was so scared I couldn’t get back to sleep with you.” As Jack laid down his head on his father’s shoulder that’s when he noticed a pretty girl sitting. “Who is she, dad?”

Y/N smiled warmly as she waved, Aaron sat him and his son on the armchair near the sofa she was sitting at and mentioned, “This is Y/N, she’s my friend, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” She held out his hand for a shake and while she understood that kids are naturally shy, especially around people they’re unfamiliar with, she was thoroughly surprised when he shook her hand and had a shy smile on his cute little face.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Jack,” When he retracted his hand she took a good look at him before mentioning, “You look like a princess.”

Indulging him she then leaned a little closer and playfully whispered, “Don’t say it out loud, this princess just snuck out to meet with her prince.” Jack giggled at her silly reply and mirrored her actions and came a little closer, “And? Where is he? Did you get your happily ever after?”

“Not yet,” She replied as she shyly smiled and took a quick glance at Aaron, “The story isn’t done yet. But you do know what a princess needs? A knight of shining armour who can be her best friend! Can we be friends, Jack?”

Looking up at his father, he shot Aaron a questioning look and inquired, “I know Y/N’s your friend but can I be her friend too?” Feeling his heart warm up at the way how gentle and considerate Y/N was to Jack — knowing that she couldn’t automatically assume Jack will see her as a friend and instead she’d have to earn it — paired with Jack’s interest in getting to know her, he smiled down at his son as he steadied his grip on his growing toddler who seemed to be wiggling a little at the excitement of having a new friend, “I’m more than alright with that, Jack. But it’s up to you, okay, bud?”

Nodding at his father before facing Y/N once more, Jack showed her his toothy grin that came out every time his father told him a silly joke before concluding, “I’d love to be your knight friend, Y/N. Does that mean we’ll go on adventures?”

Giggling and clapping her hands in delight, Y/N nodded before calming down and saying, “We sure can, Sir Jack! But maybe after you’ve had a good night’s sleep? That way we both will be energised and ready for whatever adventure comes our way?”

Right on cue, Jack let out a little yawn that Aaron partially thought Y/N induced out of him by mentioning he had to sleep, “Okay, I can’t wait for our adventure already!”

“After a good night’s sleep, okay, bud? I’m gonna put you to bed now,” Jack didn’t fight his father much and instead curled his arms around his neck, signalling that he wanted to be carried back to bed. As Aaron stood up, Jack unclasped one of his hands and waved at Y/N and smiled, “Bye, princess Y/N.”

“Sweet dreams, Sir Jack.”

Once the two men disappeared into the hall, Jessica came into view and walked towards her. Taking initiative Y/N reached out for her hand and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron mentioned you were Jack’s aunt.”

Shaking her hand, she confirmed, “Yeah, I’m Jessica. I’m Jack’s mom’s sister. Did he mention Haley to you?”

A sincere, sombre expression washed over her face as Y/N pulled Jess in for a hug, “He did, and I’m so sorry about what happened to her. From what he’s told me, Haley was such a lovely soul.” Noticing that Jess tensed slightly at the hug but relaxed because she didn’t realise how good a hug can be from someone earnest; which is why Jess was puzzled when they pulled away and Y/N had a frown. “I didn’t ask first before hugging you, sorry ‘bout that. My family did always say I was such a big hugger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” The blonde woman reassured her as she reached out and held Y/N’s hand, “I appreciated the hug and your kind words.” Beaming brightly at that, she looked down at their hands and her sharp eye couldn’t miss the blouse Jess was wearing and noticed, “Are you wearing Nanette Lepore?” Taking her aback, Jess then had her mouth open in surprise as she was unsure how to respond to that. Y/N, however, took this opportunity to babble on, “You have a good eye! She really shocked everyone when she revealed that her fall spring collection was mostly going to be perfumes but I was really excited to buy one, but shipping costs are a pain in the butt.”

“I’m sorry but our conversation took quite a turn here,” Jess tried to steer their conversation and Y/N smiled as she explained, “Oh sorry, I get so excited when the topic is fashion and all that. I work at a boutique, always thinking about designing my own clothes, but I don’t know.”

It was then that Aaron walked in the room, “Sorry for the delay, Jack requested quite a few stories tonight.” Placing a hand on his date’s shoulder and facing Jess with a tight-lipped smile, “Jess, I appreciate you looking out for Jack tonight. I was out on a date with Y/N earlier and I hope that it won’t cause too much of an issue between us.”

Jess appreciated Aaron’s vulnerability at the moment as she knew how bad her brother-in-law’s mindset and confidence was following Haley’s passing. He was deep in his belief that he was unable to open up to someone and if he ever did, they’d walk out on him after having a good, long conversation with him. Reaching out to rub his forearm that she couldn't help but notice was colder than usual before smiling, “I know, Aaron. And can I say just how lovely Y/N is.”

“Oh oh, before I forget,” Y/N reached for her bag and fished for something and made her way back over to them and handed a card to Jess, “Next time, please do swing by in the boutique. I’d love to give you some clothes that will really go well with your style! Plus, it’d be fun just chatting up with you and there’s a cute little cafe nearby too.”

Taking the calling card and looking at it first before pocketing it, Jess smiles as she hugs Aaron and gives the same affection to Y/N before parting ways, “I’ll definitely give you a call when I can swing by, okay? Enjoy your evening, guys.”

As she was putting on her coat and slinged her bag over her shoulder she looked at Aaron, “Oh and Aaron?” The man raised his eyebrows and just as he was about to ask what’s wrong Jess winked at her, “I think you found yourself a keeper.”

With that, Jess allowed the two lovebirds their privacy, the two snuggled with each other on the couch but just as they made each other comfortable Y/N looked up at Aaron and had another confused pout, “What did Jess mean when she said you found a keeper? Did you lose a tupperware container?”

Aaron chuckled lightly at her question before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and shrugged, “I’m not too sure too, sweetheart. I’ll ask her the next time she swings by.”

Deciding to let go of the topic, she then nuzzled her cheek into his chest as her hand mindlessly drew random shapes on his chest; it was Aaron that broke the silence by apologising, “I’m sorry our first date didn’t exactly go as planned. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

Looking up at him through her lashes she smiled at him and gently shook her head, “It’s okay, Aarbear. I had fun at the food truck festival. If I only knew I was going to be meeting sweet boy Jack, I’d buy him a few cotton candy flavours.”

“I’m sure your sweet personality made up for the lack of treats you gave him, sweetheart,” He tickled her sides gently to elicit giggles from her and when she did he wished he recorded it as it was such a joyous sound, “Besides, he will be looking forward to some princess-knight adventures you two will be having.”

“Is that okay with you though? I’ve read some stories where kids don’t like it when their parents date someone else. I don’t wanna come across as evil or anything,” She worried and now she stopped her movements and just looked at Aaron with worried eyes.

This time it was Aaron who had his hand rubbing her back gently to coax her back into her relaxed state, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that. Did you see how at ease Jack was when you were talking to him earlier? I don’t see any scenario where he would treat you unkindly and you to him.”

Nodding her head softly she then leaned against his shoulder once more as she said, “Okay, but if he ever tells me or you that he needs some space from me, I’m gonna do it. And you can’t stop me from doing it.”

Humming as a reply, Aaron appreciated how Y/N was respectful of Jack’s boundaries. They were basking in a comfortable silence before Y/N asked, “Did you really have a great time with me, Aar?”

“Of course,” Came his immediate reply, “Did I give the impression that I didn’t?” He felt calm when she gently shook her head and sighed out before sadly recollecting, “No, you didn’t. But I just went on dates before where it ended up with them just calling it a night right away. They’d mutter under their breath that they can’t handle being around me for any longer.”

Her quiet sniffles had him fearing that she thought this was how their relationship too was gonna go; choosing to reassure her, he lifted her chin with his hooked finger and looked serious yet loving as he spoke, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been on terrible dates with terrible boys. But let me reassure you that I do not, in any way, think of you in that way. Can I tell you a secret?”

Looking at him with curious eyes she nodded as he took his queue to reveal to her, “You bring so much happiness and joy in my life. I don’t think you can ever be those mean things that they said. In fact, I think you’re all I could ever need and want.”

Having to bite back her smile as she tried to not show how his words affected her she smiled and leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Aaron.” She bit her lip before continuing her train of thought, “Would it be too soon to say that I like you a lot? Like, I know it’s only been nearly two weeks since we’ve talked to each other but you make me so happy. Whenever I get a text from you I smile so wide, it even got to the point where Phoebe has to tell me to stop smiling and giggling too much because it might creep out other customers.”

Laughing along her story as she did so, he shook his head as he shared, “I feel what you mean, sweetheart. I have to be careful of my reactions everytime my phone rings because of you. Which is hard to do around profilers.”

“Wait, profilers? Is that the ones who try to understand the bad guys or the ones who just do the research on how to find the bad guy?”

Chuckling as he found her confusion unfortunately adorable he clarified, “We do a little bit of both, sweetheart.” She gasps out loud as she frowns, “You do both? That sounds exhausting!”

“Well thinking of you does make me feel less tired, sweetheart,” Rubbing her cheek softly as he took in her features led him to focus on her lips that he had thought about kissing ever since they met, “Would it be too soon if I told you I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all,” Came her instantaneous reply, “I’d love for you to kiss me, Aar.”

And with her consent he gently pulled her in softly by the cheek, tightening his hold on her without hurting her and slanted his lips overs. Feeling her smile into the kiss as she held onto his shoulders, bringing him even closer to her. Their lips felt warm and like puzzles fitting into place, after both of their initial shyness they both opened their mouths and allowed their tongues to entangle in a sweet dance as their hands took in every part of themselves that were new to each other.

The couple poured all of the unspoken feelings they both were too frightened to share — all the premature love and companionship — was made evident by their sweet kiss that felt natural. Despite her unwillingness to do so, she had to slowly detach herself from his lips as she had to gasp for breath. Her fingers ended up playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and while she separated from his lips, she couldn’t pull away from his hair as she looked up at him, “That might be the best first kiss I’ve ever had with someone.”

Pleased with her conclusion, Aaron quickly littered sweet pecks all throughout her face before placing a long, loving kiss on her lips before nodding in agreement, “And the best part about it is that that’ll be just the first of our many kisses, sweetheart.”

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #cuddlebug jack <3 #jack hotchner

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 year

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Cases and Candies

A/N: This is my first time posting here so bear with me lol

Summary: bau!y/n started a tradition of giving the BAU team candies every time they return home from a case. Only this time, Y/N was on sick leave.

“Great job, everyone. Have the rest of the week off. You all deserve it.” Hotch announced and walked up the few steps to his office.

The rest of the team was now at their respective desks, working through paperwork to pass their last two hours on the clock.

As soon as Hotch’s office shut, Emily, Spencer, and Derek’s hands flew up in the air, palms facing the ceiling as they waited for a small object to graze on their skin.

JJ entered the room with manila folders clutched to her chest, almost choking with laughter at the sight she walked in on. “I assume none of you are waiting for more paperwork?” She said, earning the three agents’ attention to lift from their desks, realizing the subconscious act they just did.

You started a tradition of giving the BAU team a piece of candy as soon as Hotch closed his door.

It would start with Derek, as your desk was next to him. Then, to Spencer, whose desk was across yours. You would move to Emily, then venture up the small flight of stairs to knock on Hotch’s door and leave a piece of candy on his desk without saying anything. You always gave Rossi’s treat last, at least between the people on the main floor, because you wanted to ensure that he didn’t grab two like he did the third time you offered him a piece. Nonetheless, you would give him his favorite flavor to make up for only giving him one candy. And then, you would skip to Penelope’s bat cave with a customized treat. Ribbons tied at the ends of the candy wrapper. Lastly, you would meet JJ on her way to the bullpen with a strawberry-flavored candy in your hand.

Two doors abruptly opened, and JJ immediately spoke, “Y/N was not with us this week, remember? She’s on sick leave. You two have to calm down.”

Aaron’s face shifted a little but was still stern all the same. On the other hand, Rossi tilted his head to indicate a front that he knew already, failing miserably.

JJ shook her head and went straight to Derek’s desk, dialing your number and setting it on speaker.

The ringing stopped as soon as you picked up the call, “Y/L/N speaking.” Your cough echoed in the bullpen, but you were far too busy fighting for your life to feel embarrassed over your office, hearing you heave for air.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s JJ. Are you busy?” Her voice was soft and gentle, and even if you were busy, you would’ve stopped everything you were doing.

A bright laugh rumbled from your end, “If watching ‘A Bug’s Life’ for the fifteenth time is considered busy, then I guess I am.” Your movements muffled the speaker a little bit but they heard you clear enough.

JJ smiled at that. As the person you mainly confided with, you didn’t hesitate to ask her to bring you the DVD copy of the movie as soon as she offered to visit you before they flew out for the case. “I just wanted to ask if you have any treats for your puppies here. They were all waiting patiently, and I’ll let you know they did a great job at the case.” JJ chuckled, earning multiple eye rolls from Emily and Derek.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot to mention that I left a set of treats in my drawer. One for each.” You emphasized your last words, knowing how greedy your teammates could sometimes get.

It has happened before. There was one time when Spencer argued, backed with statistics, that he did such a great job helping find the unsub that he deserved at least three chewy candies. Not to mention that they all created a formal petition, signed by everyone (even Hotch with a special mention of his Unit Chief position), to give five candies to the agent that finds and arrests the unsub.

There was a wave of cheering in the bullpen.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” Emily approvingly nodded.

Derek snorted, “Thanks, sweet mama.”

Spencer went on with his usual random fact, “Sweets as a reward is actually ill advised because studies show that it leads to obesity.”

“Does that mean I can take your piece?” JJ raised a brow at Spencer.

“I just said it’s ill advised. I didn’t say I don’t want one.” Spencer walked to your desk and ignored Derek’s teasing grin.

Aaron let go of the railing, clearing his throat. “Just bring it to my office.” He said and went back to his office.

Rossi didn’t waste time, walking down with an unusual speed that he doesn’t use even during a case. “I want the grape one!” He announced.

The glass door swung open, revealing Penelope with her bright-colored pen. “Hey! No fair! No one told me the treats are out.” She rushed to the group and playfully shoved Derek out of her way.

You couldn’t help but smile through the phone as you listened to the commotion from the other end of the line. And you promised yourself never to miss a case ever again.

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #criminal minds #fanfic #imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #x reader

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octuscle · 3 months

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Hey Chronivac, on my way home today I drove past a fancy hotel and saw a super hot and hunky valet outside it. Is there a way that I could use this to become his equally hunky boyfriend or husband?

You are almost 70 years old… You have three failed marriages behind you, each of which has cost you a fortune. And now you come up with the idea of starting something with a valet? Don't take offense, but I do find it a bit strange. But anyway, I've seen worse.

You steer your Bentley convertible into the hotel driveway. Carlos is already walking towards you, eager to be of service. "Welcome, it's nice to have you back with us. May I ask you for the keys to this wonderful car?" You've never been here before… But what a sexy Spanish accent! You give him the key and a 10-dollar bill. And you have to swallow. You have a very dry throat.

With some difficulty and the help of your walking stick, you enter the lobby. You go to the concierge and ask to speak to the personnel manager. When asked who he might report, you reply "James Miller, it's about something private". While you wait in the lobby for an answer, you look in the mirror. Yes, there are already a few gray strands and a few wrinkles around your eyes. But for someone in their mid-50s, you don't look bad at all. Lots of exercise and a healthy diet, you think contentedly. The concierge asks you to take the elevator to the fourth floor.

You're already a little nervous. You haven't had a job interview for a long time. And at your early 40s, you're probably a bit too old to be a parking attendant. You clutch your application folder with white knuckles. But the secretary in the HR department smiles kindly at you, asks you to take a seat and offers you a drink of water. Out of sheer nervousness, you reply with "Gracias". She laughs and says that the conversation will be conducted in English. You laugh back. With your gleaming white teeth, you can iron out any embarrassment.

The door to the meeting room opens. The last applicant is a spotty beanpole. At least visually you have the best chance. The secretary invites you in. The personnel manager smiles at you, you shake his hand and smile back. "Well, Mr. Molinero, the first lesson today is that you don't shake my hand, I shake yours. You never shake hands with a guest unless they do it first. Do we understand each other? You swallow. Carlos wasn't exaggerating. This is a strict place. But it's also the best hotel in town. "Mr. Molinero, is Carlos your brother? You have the same surname." You reply that you are often mistaken for brothers. But you are actually married. "Delightful!" replies the personnel manager. And then you go through your CV.

The interview felt like it took three hours. In fact, it was just 20 minutes. The HR manager stands up and shakes your hand. He laughs as you shake his hand. "Good strong handshake. I like that. Welcome to the team. Rebecca will sort out all the formalities with you, Diego. And for the rest, I'll just rely on Carlos to introduce them well.

You never get a second chance to make a first impression. And Carlos and you are often the first to give an impression of "your" hotel. You are professionals. You know your way around cars, are excellent drivers and know the local area like the back of your hand. Yes, the pay is really bad, but the tips are royal. Carlos actually once inherited the Bentley convertible of a guest he'd never seen before or since. Of course you didn't keep it. But you were able to use the proceeds from the sale to buy a beach house in your Mexican homeland.

And if things aren't going well enough, you can always work extra shifts as a waiter by the pool. Your suntan lotion massages are famous!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #age reduction #ai image

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ghouljams · 8 months

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Is it possible for us to see the rest of the boys and their demons discovering Hush? I think it would be hilarious considering Ghost and Price are so anti people getting demons, especially since Soap summoned one himself and ended up with someone so high ranking

This got very silly as I was thinking about it. I think the rest of the demons are all excited about having more demons in the ranks, and generally I think demons behave a lot like feral little creatures. Like pack oriented cats. Or ferrets. I'm losing my point.

Anyway, they're all very cognizant of each other and can tell almost immediately that there's something or someone riding in another soldier's shadow(as we've seen with Price and Die). So here's Soap showing up with Hush.

There's a sort of unspoken rule in the 141 these days. That even though they all know about them, the demons have to stay hidden even when it's just the inner circle. Which makes down time a little awkward. They all know, but with Soap out of the loop it feels almost unfair to have the other demons out and about. The demons stay in their shadows, and the men don't mention a word about them. Luckily they're all fairly well trained in keeping secrets.

The TV blares in the background, a footie match no one is watching. Ghost's leg bounces, his foot tapping a rapid beat against the floor, eyes on the screen but unseeing. Gaz rests his head against his fist, reading a book that he won't say Luck recommended. Similarly Price is flipping through a file, circling points on a map and occasionally murmuring to an unseen partner. Soap, it would seem, is the only one missing the party.

That's for the best. He's only recently gotten back from some heavy recon gone wrong, and is still getting patched up in medical. It's set the whole team on edge, no one happy about the scare.

"Are you and-" Gaz starts not looking up from his book.

"No," Ghost cuts him off, then lets out a tense breath, "Sort of, it's complicated."

"Make it uncomplicated," Price tells him from his chair, circling something in the folder he's looking over.

"It's not-" Ghost starts, spotting Soap coming into the room, "Thank god," He mutters, cutting himself off. This is another unspoken rule; not talking about the demons when the only one of them without one is around. The shadows around the room bristle, spiking and arching like a nervous cat.

Each demon in the room pops excitedly into visibility.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" Like a flock of seagulls the other demons in the room rush Soap, shoving him out of the way to jump his shadow. You groan, and catch Die before she can do any damage to your charge. She clamors to hang onto your arm, while Luck ducks to hug around your waist. Even Price joins the dog pile, their usual unflappable demeanor giving way to a wide smile as they tackle you and your barnacles to the ground with a hug.

"Steamin' Jesus what is goin' on?" Soap asks as you try to wrestle the overly affectionate demons scrambling to lay on top of you.

"Could be askin' you the same thing Johnny," Ghost turns to glares at him over the back of the couch.

"Agreed, I thought I was clear on my thoughts regarding," Price waves his hand at the pile of demons on the floor, "summonings."

"He asked you too?" Ghost looks at Price.

Gaz is already up knocking his knuckles silently against Soap's in approval. Soap gives him a quick smile and raise of the brows. You manage to push Die off her perch on your chest, and try to get to your feet. Luck clings to your arm, and you lift them with you, holding your arm up to let them hang off your bicep. At least Price seems aware of their position as a senior officer. Their hands against your back to keep you upright as Die tries again to knock you off your feet.

"When did you get topside?" Luck asks, holding their feet up to truly dangle off your arm.

"Maybe a week ago? Been busy or I would've said 'hi' sooner," You catch Die with your free hand, and twist her into a headlock.

"A week ago," Soap cringes at his Captain's voice, "You were summoning a demon in the middle of a mission."

"Was in a safe house," Soap grumbles. "That one gave me the ritual," He points at Luck. You glance down at them, they quickly plant their feet back on the ground and stand at attention. Gaz holds back a smile, trying to look stern.

"Christ," Price pinches the bridge of his nose, and lets out a heavy sigh. You superior officer has already gone to stand by him, doing their best to look disapproving. It's not a bad show of it, if you're being honest. "Alright," Price relents, you both know there's no getting rid of you now, "Name?"

"Hush." You and Soap tell him at the same time. The demon Price gives you a quick thumbs up, while the human one looks decidedly not amused by the situation. You think this is going to be fun. Soap flashes you a smile. Yeah, this is going to be a blast.

#demon!darlings au #oc: hush #oc: die #oc: luck #oc: price #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #x reader #x oc #although there isn't really anything romantic going on #unless u count the rest of the demons loving Hush #demons are pack animals lol #I think they're mostly just excited because now they don't have to stay hidden around the boys #Soap gets stuck cleaning the bathroom for a month

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hopefulromances · 9 months

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Not a promt or anything but something based in "Call It what you want" by T. Swift wit jamie. 😭😭😭 I have been thrown too deep into jamietok

Oh pls my tik tok is just JAMIE. I'm imaging this with Jamie as Taylor, just to give some context.

The gala was just starting when you finally arrived. You had to meet Jamie there, now that the team came early to help set up. But Jamie was waiting for you when you walked in.

"Jamie!" you called over to Jamie him. She headed straight for him, head down, ignoring the camera flashes as she walked through the front door of the gala. He greeted you with a kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you close to him.

"Did you see this one?" you asked, showing him your phone. You hand rested on his shoulder keeping the two of you close as you showed him the article.

Jamie Tartt's New Fling? Who is Jamie Tartt's new girl? More on page 6

"We got the fling title," you mused as yoy leaned your head on his shoulder.

Jamie chuckled pulling the phone closer to his face so he could see. You told him he needed contacts, but he refused to get it checked. Said he didn't trust eye doctors cause they all wore glasses. How good could they be if they couldn't fix your their own eyesight.

You giggled through the back of your throat, screenshotting the article to add to the folder you'd created. You loved the tabloids. Jamie was afraid you'd be scared off by them at first but quickly, you proved them wrong. You liked to see all the ridiculous names they called you.

Jamie'd been burned before. Mistakes he made over and over again by letting those words get to his head. Letting the words of his father get to his head. That he had to act a certain way, be a certain way in order for people in his life to want him to stick around. But with you, he felt like he'd finally done one thing right.

"I got you something," he murmured, pulling something out of his coat pocket. He held out a box. "You only have to wear it if you want it... it's.. it's nothing, it's stupid."

You hit his chest. "No self-deprecating thoughts, yeah?"

You took the box and opened it. In it was a gold chain necklace with a J hanging from it.

"I've got one too," He told you. "It's got your first initial on it." He tugged down his collar just enough so you could see the matching necklace dangling around his neck.

"Oh, Jamie... this is..." You were speechless. You ran your finger over the J. "This is..."

Anyone else looking on might think of it as a collar, something holding you back. But you knew better. You picked it up out of the box and turned around. "Help me out, Jaim."

Jamie swallowed hard and reached up to clasp the necklace around your neck, placing a kiss right above the clasp. You shivered slightly, turning back around in his arms. Jamie's eyes glowed as he look at you with his initial around your neck.

"I just... i need you to know how special you are to me..." He added, coming up to rest his hand on the necklace. "That... no matter what they call you or us or... whatever... that you're the one person in the room who really knows me."

You held onto Jamie's hand as it stroked your neck, smiling up at him sweetly.

"They can call us what they want to, babe," You murmured to him. "But you're all I really want."

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night #drabble #fluff

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

Call Me Mrs. Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: not many, very brief mentions of death and some minor violence- this story is mostly just sassy arguing tbh

Genre: fluff

Summary: You have never gotten along with one Steve Rogers, at this point the rest of the team considers it a win if you two don't speak to each other for an entire day, at least then you aren't fighting. So when a briefing meeting results in you getting paired on an extended mission with him you are less than thrilled. It won't be easy but you're determined to get through it and who knows what'll happen.

***

You check your watch as you walk down the halls of the Avengers tower heading towards the meeting room. When you push open the door everyone turns to look at you.

"Y/n. So nice of you to join us." Steve snarks at you from the front of the room.

"Oh I'm sorry were you waiting for me? I would've taken longer if I knew." You say lazily as you plop into a seat next to Wanda who has to hide her snicker at your words. Steve rolls his eyes at you but doesn't bother trying to retort. Your relationship with him always been somewhat contentious. You assume it's because he's a square.

"Now that everyone's here we can get started." Steve says passing out the briefing folders. You flip yours open and scan the words quickly as he begins talking.

"Alright, here's the situation; this is our target, Dusan Müller. Hydra scientist. Our sources say he's been hiding in a small town somewhere outside of central Italy." Steve explains.

"That's very nonspecific." You scoff.

"We've narrowed it down to one of five we simply need to check them out and find him and assuming he has help we need to do it without raising suspicion."

"So, espionage? Someone's going undercover?" Nat asks.

"That's the plan." He nods.

"Who's going and what's their cover?" Bucky asks.

"Based on some research we've done the most solid undercover would probably be a newlywed couple." Tony says.

"Wait what?" Wanda frowns.

"A few of the towns are travel hotspots for 'unconventional honeymoons'. A new couple touring Europe is least likely to raise questions. At the very least it'll take a while before anyone realizes the truth." He explains.

"Sooooo who are our newlyweds?" Nat prompts again.

"That's what we're going to figure out now." Steve says.

"You haven't decided yet?" You frown.

"There are a lot of factors. A discussion makes the most sense so we can account for as many as possible." He forces out through clenched teeth.

"Well y/n and I have tons of espionage experience." Nat says.

"We could always go together." You wink at her.

"And Steve's one of the strongest fighters." Wanda says.

"He's a lanky scientist will we need brute strength really?" You ask.

"Again we don't know who is helping so if he's not isolateable we might." Tony says.

"Well if we're listing them off Bucky's a pretty strong choice for top fighters too." You point out.

"Anyone helping a Hydra scientist would for sure notice me though, plus with the metal arm I might- draw more attention, because jackets in the middle of summer on a honeymood would be weird." Bucky explains shaking his head.

"I'd go but the whole billionaire playboy thing I wouldn't wanna risk being recognized." Tony shrugs.

"Where are Bruce and Clint? Are they not available for this mission?" Wanda asks suddenly.

"They are not. Other tasks are occupying their time." Tony tells her. "If you ask me I suggest Rogers and y/n go." He adds.

"Fuck off Stark." You roll your eyes.

"Actually based on my calculations the most favorable pairing for this mission is Captain Steve Rogers and Miss Y/n Y/l/n." Vision says. It's the first thing he's said the whole meeting, you'd almost forgotten he was in the room.

"What?" You scoff.

"No." Steve says at the same time.

"Vis, you might want to recalculate that one because the only thing we are most favorable for is driving each other crazy." You cross your arms.

"Miss Romanova is the only other member of the team as skilled in this area as you y/n, however, the chances of her being recognized are higher as you fight with a mask and she does not. Similarly, as Mr. Barnes has explained, his reputation as the Winter Soldier proceeds him, and it is an unnecessary risk to send him. Mr. Stark also has quite the reputation and I am a synthezoid that would also draw attention, leaving Captain Rogers the least conspicuous partner for you."

"And Wanda or Sam?" You ask.

"It is my understanding that Sam will be indisposed during part of the proposed timeframe and Wanda lacks proficiency in the skillset needed to successfully pull this off. It would be nothing short of foolish to test her undercover capabilities with such a high-stakes mission." Vision says.

"Fine." You relent. "I'll go undercover with Rogers if you insist it is the most advantageous option." You grumble.

"I can't believe this is happening." Steve shakes his head.

"When do we leave?" You ask.

"Tomorrow at noon."

"Feels a little short noticed for an extended mission don't you think?" You frown.

"I'm sorry will that be an inconvenience to your schedule?" The question is dripping with sarcasm.

"It's got fuck all to do with my schedule and everything to do with the protocol that this doesn't follow."

"What do you know about protocol?" Steve scoffs. You stand up sharply.

"First of all I've been going on missions for longer than you've been active in the 21st century secondly I've been on this team long enough to know there are protocols we follow for these things."

"Extenuating circumstances required us to work around protocol because we can't waste time."

"And that's all you had to say but instead you wanted to be petty and make me seem like a spoiled brat because I asked a valid question! Maybe nobody else will bother because it's not their mission but since I have to leave I sure as hell will question things as necessary."

"Or don't. You have your directives. You could try just following them."

"You would do well to remember, Captain, I am not one of your little soldiers. Around here we don't just blindly follow orders. I've watched that shit get people killed too many times."

"Alright let's all just calm-"

"I will see you on the launch pad tomorrow at noon. If you need me before then, don't." You cut off whatever Sam was going to say. You grab your briefing folder and storm out of the room angrily. It's not long after that Wanda and Natasha come into your room where you're shoving clothes into your duffle bag angrily.

"So, how do you plan to play husband and wife with someone that makes you want to commit a crime every time he speaks?"

"I'm gonna act. As if my life depends on it. Because it kinda does." You sigh. "Look I'm going to do my job and I will do it well, personal feelings aside. What do you even pack for a fake honeymoon in Europe?"

"Lingerie."

"Natasha!" You glare at her.

"Not for use, but if somebody ends up in your bags you want it to look like you're on honeymoon with a man you love, so a couple pairs of cute underwear couldn't hurt." She explains with a shrug.

"Honestly I think you should try to make a connection with him on some level. Find common ground to make this mission easier on you both. It would be good for the team in the future as well." Wanda says.

"No thank you." You shake your head.

"Wanda you're a genius I'm texting Sam." Natasha says.

"No. Why would you do that?" You frown.

"He's friends with Steve, maybe he'll have some insight on how to keep you from killing each other before you return." Natasha says.

"Dude I'm just trying to pack!" You huff.

"And we're trying to make sure any injuries sustained on this mission are not a result of infighting." She shrugs.

"I would never jeopardize a mission that way and you know that Nat." You point at her. Your door swings open again and Sam comes strolling in with Bucky in tow.

"Alright what're the girls gettin up to?" He asks.

"That took you a concerningly short amount of time to get here." You mutter.

"I brought Bucky too." Sam says.

"Why?"

"Well I figured this was gonna have to do with Steve and since he's the certified record-holding pal of our captain- couldn't hurt to have his input." Sam shrugs.

"I am just trying to pack and these two are in here chatting away. So join the party I guess." You mutter tossing more things on your bed.

"How long do you think you two will be gone?" Wanda asks.

"Hopefully no more than a week, but I'll pack enough for a couple days longer than that. Plus I know how to wash my clothes." You shrug.

"Anyway! Guys, we think y/n could benefit from finding some common ground with Steve and who better to ask than his boys!" Natasha explains to them.

"'We' being her and Wanda I have no interest in any of this actually." You clarify.

"Steve is- not a complex man." Bucky shrugs.

"No not complex just exasperating." You roll your eyes.

"Is there- a particular reason why you hate him so much?" Sam asks with a smirk.

"I don't hate him-"

"EURIKA!" He gasps and you shoot a confused look at him.

"You don't hate him?" Bucky hums.

"If I hated him nothing Vision said in that meeting room would convince me to do this mission. I don't even know if I'd be on the team with him if I felt that strongly about him." You explain. "Rogers is just such a stiff. He sees the world in a specific way and expects most things to adhere to that worldview. When they don't he gets naggy. It's aggravating."

"So, just to clarify; you do not hate him." Sam says.

"No. I don't. He's just boring and we don't get along because I don't like boring people and the way he talks to me is fucking rude. As if it's my fault that he's insipid." You scoff.

"Honestly that- feels like a start." Bucky nods.

"A start for what, exactly? I'm not the problem. We can't find common ground if he's not willing to lighten up."

"I mean if you're together for an entire week he can't be stuffy the entire time, right?" Sam shrugs.

"I don't care if he's stuffy the whole time. It's not a vacation. We don't need to have fun being a fake couple." You say.

"Honestly I think this mission will be good for your relationship with Steve. We're all on a team it's not good for you to fight with him all the time." Wanda says.

"This is feeling oddly intervention-like. Save it y'all, I just want to do my job and bring in this hydra creep." You say.

"It's not meant to be interventional, we just want to make this easier for you." She sighs.

"I don't really need it to be easier but I appreciate the attempt. Sammy, Bucky go about your business please and thank you." You sigh folding the last of your clothes and shoving them in your large travel duffle.

"Good luck this week lady." Bucky nudges you before tugging Sam out of your room.

"Are you kicking us out too?" Natasha smirks.

"At this point I should, but you don't listen anyway." You roll your eyes. You toss your travel toiletries bag into the duffle and couple of other travel essentials, a book, your mission suit, and some extra combat equipment, things of that nature and by the time you're done packing you, Wanda, and Nat have made plans for dinner later in the evening.

~*~*~

When you wake up the next morning you put on a sundress, chosen by Wanda who insisted if you were going to convince anyone you're on a honeymoon you need to look like you would on a date. After a nice breakfast, you grab your duffle from your room and stroll out to the helipad where Steve is already waiting with his arms crossed.

"You're late." Steve grunts as you approach.

"No I'm not. You said we leave at noon. It's noon now."

"We leave at noon means get here before."

"I told you I'd meet you here at noon. You can complain about the semantics of my arrival all you want but you're wasting the time you're so upset about me not adhering to." You say walking past him to get into the quinjet taking you into Europe. Steve stomps onto the jet behind you joining you at the front of the jet. You try not to laugh at the deep frown on his face as he prepares you for takeoff.

"We'll land in Italy where a truck is loaded up for us to take the rest of the way to our first town, and we'll be using the truck to get from town to town." Steve tells you.

"Yeah sure." You mutter grabbing your briefing file to read over again. You always read the information more than once to find anything valuable.

"Did you not- read the whole file yet?" He glances in your direction.

"Of course I did. I'm rereading. We've got like six hours to kill on this jet." You roll your eyes. You feel his gaze on you as you read but you ignore it and eventually he turns his attention back to the controls of the jet. It's in autopilot now but you're sure he'll spend the entire flight glaring at the instruments to make sure nothing goes wrong.

Once you land, you shove the folder into the bottom of your duffle and sling the bag over your shoulder beating Steve to the three agents meeting you at the landing site.

"Hello miss y/l/n." One of them nods to you.

"Hi y'all." You smile at her.

"This will be your transportation for the duration of your trip. There are supplies and gear tucked under the backseat and a radio to contact us if necessary in the center console and your passports are in the glove box." The same agent details to you, pointing to a silver fiat pickup truck. When Steve joins you one of the other agents tosses him the keys.

"We're good to go?" Steve asks the first agent.

"All set, like I was telling miss y/l/n there's emergency supplies and a radio stashed in the vehicle and your destinations are programmed into the GPS system." She nods.

"Is that such a good idea?" You ask with a frown.

"The truck is Stark tech it only says fiat to blend in because they're common in Italy but, nobody's gonna be able to track you with it, or even plot your route. It's biometrically activated." She explains.

"That's better." You nod. You throw your bag into the back of the truck and climb into the passenger seat. You grab your passport out of the glovebox the name on it says Alissa Rogers and Steve's says Grant.

"We'll be in touch." Steve nods one last time before loading his stuff in and settling into the driver's side. He pulls off quickly and you watch as the scenery changes the further you drive towards the small town you'll be staying in.

"Hope you brushed up on your Italian. You're less likely to find English speakers in the countryside like this." You say opening a snack you'd brought along in case you got hungry before you could get food.

"Tony assured me the place he booked was tourist friendly." Steve mumbles.

"I mean sure but what if you have to talk to the locals? Or will that be up to me?"

"As if you speak Italian." He scoffs.

"I speak several languages actually. Side effect of being trained to be an international spy." You shrug and Steve doesn't have a rebuttal for that so he focuses on driving and you munch away on your snacks. A short while later you make it to the small inn you'll be staying at. It's cozy looking, exactly what you'd expect for the town you drove into. It looks like the kind of place where most of the people know each other. With your bag tossed across your back, you follow Steve into the inn where he grabs the attention of the woman at the desk.

"Excuse me, hi we're looking to check in. We have a reservation. Should be under Rogers, first name Grant." Steve says smoothly with a charming smile.

"Oh yes you booked a honeymoon package!" The woman gushes happily as she types away at her keyboard. You have to refrain from reacting when she says that. Looks like it's showtime.

"Yeah we just got married, we're traveling through Europe for our honeymoon." You tell her with a fake dreamy look on your face. You even wrap your hands around Steve's arm affectionately.

"Oooo traveling through Europe! Sounds so exciting and romantic." The woman beams.

"It has been so far! We're still very early into our plans but, so far it's been everything I've dreamed of and more." You sigh softly. The woman lets out a barely there squeal about how cute you are and how lovely newlyweds tend to be before sliding your room keys onto the desk.

"Here are your keys cara mia! Try to rest if he allows." She winks at you and you laugh although the innuendo in her statement makes Steve stiffen beside you.

"Grazie! Oh! Do you have any food suggestions, we've been driving for a while to get here." You ask her.

"Ah most people cook around here but there's Nino's! It's the best place nearby. I'll give you the address." She quickly scribbles the address onto some spare paper she has at the desk and hands it to you.

"Thanks so much, ma'am. Have a good night." Steve finally finds his voice to bid the kind nonna farewell before leading you off with a hand at your back.

"Oh what a sweet old lady." You smile as you walk up the stairs to find your room.

"You settled into the lovestruck newlywed thing very quick." Steve observes.

"Well yeah, this isn't my first rodeo and honestly hopelessly in love is not even close to the hardest part I've had to play on a mission." You scoff.

"Clearly, you're very good at this."

"Yeah that's probably why Vision thought I'd be best for the job." You shrug unlocking your room and tossing your bag to the side.

"There's- only one bed." Steve points out with wide eyes.

"Of course there is. We're supposed to be a newlywed couple on our honeymoon, why would we have a room with two beds?"

"Well I can call down for extra blankets and set up on the floor or-"

"Don't be ridiculous. If you want to sleep in the bed it's king sized, I'm sure we can manage to share." You scoff.

"I just figured it'd be easier if we-"

"It's not a big deal to me Rogers, the main thing is if someone like came to the door and saw pillows and blankets set up on the floor it would hurt the hopelessly devoted story we're trying to sell."

"Hopelessly devoted?" He frowns.

"It's a song from Grease, an old 70s movie. Don't worry about it. Point is, it'll be odd if anyone sees you set up on the floor. Unless you prefer sleeping on straight wood." You shrug.

"I don't." He frowns.

"So don't make it a thing. Which by the way, you kept Rogers for this mission?"

"Yeah, Tony figured it was common enough that it wouldn't matter. Grant's my middle name."

"Hm, interesting. Well, I'm Alissa, apparently. Should we check out that restaurant the nonna suggested?"

"You feel like going to dinner?"

"I mean she said most folks around here cook so tomorrow I'll hit some of the street stands and you can try asking around subtly for any information on our target."

"Shouldn't you do the asking around? I mean what happens when I end up talking to someone that doesn't speak English?"

"You can introduce them to your gorgeous Italian speaking wife, or hope they have nothing important to say." You shrug. "I think you can handle it. You coming with me to get something to eat or not dude?"

"Uh yeah I guess."

The two of you have a semi awkward dinner playing the happy in love couple for anyone that walks pass while not really talking to each other. When you return to your room you take turns showering and getting ready for bed without saying a word to each other.

"Do you care what side you sleep on?" Steve eventually asks.

"Not particularly."

"Then I will take the side by the door. If that's okay?" Steve suggests.

"If that's what you want. Sure." You shrug tossing the comforter back and getting under it on your designated side. Why he's acting so awkward about the whole thing makes no sense to you but honestly most of his actions make no sense to you. Curled up on one side of the bed you quickly fall asleep, all the travel has certainly tired you out.

Light peaking through the curtain slowly pulls you from sleep in the morning. As you gain consciousness you get more aware of a weight across your body. A weight that doesn't move even as you shift in bed. It's an arm, attached to a body, that's apparently close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from it and the realization makes you scramble out of bed so suddenly you wake Steve too.

"You don't strike me as a cuddly sleeper Rogers." You clip. You can see in his eyes that he's struggling for a response but you grab your duffle and rush into the bathroom before he can find one. You get yourself together and leave pretty quickly with a comment to Steve about making sure he does what you agreed on when he gets on with his day.

With a tote in hand, you scan the different stands in town stopping to buy various produce and things. By the time you'd settled in yesterday and doubled back out for dinner most of the town had gone quiet, it's nice to see everyone out now and survey things. When you're looking at some bracelets at one shop, you overhear a conversation between the woman behind the counter and someone sitting off to the side near her. They're speaking in Italian but you clearly catch one of them gushing about the increase in handsome foreigners in their small town. You giggle a bit, loud enough for them to notice.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interject." You smile apologetically, speaking to them in Italian. "I just caught the last bit of your conversation and well, I take it you've met my husband is all."

"The American is your husband?" One of them gasps.

"Yes he is. Was he here?" You ask her.

"Briefly, he said he was looking for 'trinkets' for friends." The one behind the counter says to you. She says trinkets in English with a confused scrunch of her nose.

"Sounds like him. Do you see a lot of Americans here?" You ask.

"No not Americans often. There was a really handsome German here a couple of days ago." She shakes her head.

"German? Really?" You blink.

"Oh yeah, I remember him. He was tall and thin with a beard and big round glasses and his eyes were bright, almost yellow." The seated woman says.

"Yeah! He didn't talk much but he was much friendlier by the time he left and he spoke with a heavy accent." The lady behind the register adds.

"Was he here long?"

"Probably around 3 weeks." The woman at the register says.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Well he asked me where the next town to us was, even had me point it out on a map." She tells you.

"Interesting. Must be nice to see new faces sometimes. I'll take these two bracelets." You say placing two items on the counter. With all that chatting you definitely need to buy something before leaving, plus they're so cute you're sure Wanda will love them. The woman checks you out and after a bit more looking around, you head back to your hotel. There's a kitchen on the main floor that you can use to prepare food since that's the norm, plus with this information you'll probably be on your way in the morning. When you return to your room, Steve isn't there, which is fine, you take advantage of the empty suite to take a long hot shower. Eventually you step out and put on lotion before stepping out into the room to grab your clothes.

"You take incredibly long showers." Steve's voice makes you jump as you notice him at the desk in the corner.

"Holy fucking hell." You hiss clutching your chest.

"Forgot you shared this room?"

"No, you weren't here when I got back, hence the long shower, and I didn't realize you were back." You huff, using your towel as a cover you pull on your underwear and shorts. Steve's head is focused on whatever he's reading over at the desk so you let the towel drop to put on your sleep shirt with your back to him.

"You should really pay better attention to your surroundings." Steve mutters.

"Fuck off." You scoff.

"I'm just saying you should totally have noticed I was in here before I spoke."

"Who cares man? Did you find anything interesting out today?"

"Not much, I talked to some guys about visitors but none of them had a lot to say, just that sometimes they come."

"Well I heard a German man was here for around three weeks before asking for directions to the next town over."

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Some women in a jewelry store."

"And you think this is legit?"

"I mean it's just street gossip so I don't have a way to verify really but it's definitely a promising lead."

"You're sure it's the right man? I mean 'a German' doesn't exactly scream Müller was here."

"Well I couldn't slap a photo in front of them and ask for clarification but they described him as tall and thin with a beard and big round glasses and bright 'almost yellow' eyes. I dunno I'd say that's a pretty close match if you ask me."

"You found information pretty quickly."

"There are very few things that transcend language, borders, gender et cetera, one of them is that people like to gossip. You find the right people and ask the right questions they will tell you any and everything."

"Then we need to move."

"In the morning."

"Why would we not move now? We have a lead we shouldn't let it go cold."

"If the women from the shop were telling the truth chances are he'll be there a couple weeks before we have to worry about him moving. I think we can afford to start fresh in the morning. Plus we don't have a plan. If we move now it's impulsive and foolish."

"We have a plan, find this guy and apprehend him."

"That's not a plan that's an objective. How do we find him Rogers? And how do we move when we do find him? Are you implying we just tackle him in the middle of town if that's where we see him? I mean even a half-baked skeleton of an idea is better than absolutely nothing." You roll your eyes.

"Do you have a plan you'd like to propose?" He glares at you.

"No, that's why I'm saying we wait til morning. So we have time to come up with one. He's probably going to be there for a couple weeks, we have 8 hours to spare."

"You don't know that."

"Obviously I don't, but he doesn't know we're looking for him he has no reason to rush out of there. If he was here for 3 weeks why would he leave there in 2 days?"

"Fine! We will leave tomorrow morning. Bright and early. 8am."

"Yes sir, drill sergeant." You say with a mock salute. "I'm going to make food downstairs, would you like some?"

"Trying to poison me?"

"If I were, you wouldn't know until it was too late." You smile.

"In that case, I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. If you wanna make yourself something, there are more groceries." You shrug grabbing a few things you need before leaving the room. You make yourself dinner and sit in the lobby to eat, chatting with the woman at the desk, it's the same nonna who checked you in so you offer her some food while you talk. Eventually, you head back up to your room where Steve is still hunched over the desk.

"Okay. So when we get there tomorrow we need to focus on finding him while keeping a low profile so we can figure out the most effective way to apprehend him." Steve says.

"Do we have an extraction plan?"

"I mean I've thought of a couple ways to go about it, if he's in a lodging situation, like this one, we should try for stealth. Moving at night would be the safest choice, to minimize the likelihood of civilian endangerment. If he's staying somewhere alone, apprehension isn't super important, if he's staying somewhere with someone I'd say again stealth is-"

"That's fine I guess but not at all what I meant. Do we have a plan for getting us and him back to the US? Because this was expected to take at least a week and at this rate, we'll be ready to move in like half that time."

"I... will contact the team when we're on the road in the morning and we'll plan our apprehending around how quickly they can mobilize." Steve says.

"Good." You say crawling into bed with a book. You put on music and read quietly while Steve does, who knows what at the desk. He eventually gets up and shuffles into the bathroom. You hear the shower running for a while before he comes out in shorts, using a towel to dry his hair. You barely glance up from your novel as he pads around the room. You don't speak with Steve for the rest of the night. You read, and he does whatever he does until you both eventually turn in at different times.

The next morning you wake to the sound of shuffling around you and when you open your eyes Steve is darting around the room.

"Good. You're awake. Get up and get ready so we can leave." Steve says curtly.

"What's the matter Stevie? Not much of a morning person?" You snark back without getting out of bed.

"I looked it up, the drive we're in for is almost four hours. The sooner we get on the road the better so we can actually get this done. Which means I need you to get up so we can get out of here."

"Sounds to me like you need a Snickers." You snort.

"Excuse me?" His head snaps to you with narrowed eyes.

"A snickers, you know, the candy bar- their slogan is 'you're not you when you're hungry' I'm making a joke about you being cranky- I cannot believe I just had to explain that to you. You really are a grumpy old man, you'd give Scrooge a run for his money sheesh." You scoff, finally pushing yourself out of bed.

"Are you just going to make silly pop culture references all day?" He rolls his eyes.

"Who knew you'd be such a Grinch so early."

"So that's a yes? The Grinch is a Christmas movie."

"So is Scrooge but they're grumpy all year round it's just worse around the holidays. Which begs the question, is the attitude just for little ol me, or does the Italian countryside always make you this prickly?" You smirk.

"Just. Get. Dressed." He says through clenched teeth. You roll your eyes at his grumbly attitude and grab your clothes to change in the bathroom.

"There's some fruit amongst the groceries by the way. I suggest you have one, might put some pep in your step." You taunt before shutting your bathroom door.

"It won't be so bad! Maybe you'll find a way to connect with him! Steve's not a complex man." You mock all your friends in the mirror as you put yourself together. "Complex?! God, I wish! He's about as complex as a cardboard box with half the personality. Honestly if only he were complex that'd be so much easier." You rant to yourself. "Thank the stars the universe practically dropped this guy's location in our lap because there is no way I'd survive a week with this guy." You grumble. You change your clothes and brush your teeth letting out one more deep breath before leaving the bathroom.

"Alright. Ready to go when you are." You say tossing your things into your bag and zipping it up.

"Good. Let's go." Steve grabs his bag and practically storms out of your hotel room without a second thought. You pick up your duffle and what's left of the produce you brought and trot down to the lobby where Steve's already checking you out.

"Hello!" You smile at the woman behind the desk.

"Hello darling! So sad to see you go so soon!" She smiles at you.

"We'd love to stay longer but there's so much to see and not nearly enough hours of our trip." You say wrapping your arm around Steve's and resting your head on his shoulder dreamily "Isn't that right Grant?" You sigh.

"Yeah! We've got so many plans! But the stay here has been lovely." Steve says smiling at you with kindness that even you almost believe is sincere. It makes you want to put ten feet between you and you have to force yourself not to react outwardly. With one last goodbye to the woman at the counter, you and Steve leave the hotel and load your things into your truck. As soon as Steve starts driving he uses the communication system to contact Tony.

"Rogers. Status report?"

"We have a lead that we're following and need to know how quickly we can be extracted from Italy if we've successfully located the target." Steve tells him.

"Have you located the target?" Tony asks.

"I spoke to a woman that says she gave our target directions to another town over so we suspect he'll be there." You interject.

"What if he's moved?" Tony asks.

"Well based on what the woman said, he was around for a few weeks before he left so I think it's safe to say he's likely still there." You say.

"We can extract you as quickly as tonight if you're able to apprehend the target."

"That would be-"

"Too soon. Can you plan for an extraction tomorrow morning?" You cut Steve off and he shoots you a glare momentarily.

"Tomorrow morning?" Tony clarifies.

"Yes. Assuming our lead is correct we'll be ready to go early in the morning." You say.

"Yeah sure. We'll get you a jet and leave it in a holding pattern. Say, 6am?" Tony asks.

"That should give us enough time. If something changes we'll let you know." You say. Tony mumbles an affirmative before disconnecting and you put your headphones on for the remainder of the drive with your head in your book. When the four hour drive ends and Steve pulls up to where you'll be staying you push open the door and hop out of the truck. Steve sorts out your room with the owner of the small hotel you're staying in and practically slams the door when you're in your room.

"Why would you tell Tony to set us up for tomorrow and not tonight? If they could be ready tonight we should take tonight!"

"I thought we were on the same mission but it appears that you are somewhere else because we don't even know where this man is. We just got here and even if we walked outside and saw him right now we can't exactly snatch him in the middle of the day. What happened to that spiel about 'stealth to minimize the likelihood of endangering civilians'? If they plan to extract us tonight that is not a reasonable timeframe and I'm sure you know that. You're just picking fights for no reason." You roll your eyes. Not to mention he waited hours to bring it back up- who stews this long over a departure time?

"Eight hours seems like a pretty reasonable timeframe for me. My fault for overestimating your capabilities."

"If you think I couldn't do this shit in eight hours you're smoking. On my own, I'd have no problem with an eight hour timeline but we are not the team that can be rushing into a mission like this when we don't know what the details are. Honestly Rogers whatever your fucking problem is table it. We have someone to find and we're pretty far from the landing pad so we need to be done and on our way in like twelve hours. I am going to start tracking down our target so we can actually arrest this guy. Skulk in here if you want." You grab your sunglasses and (mostly prop) tote bag and leave Steve in your room. You can't fathom why Steve is annoyed that you asked for a few extra hours to make sure you can actually complete this mission but that's his problem. The sun feels nice on your skin as you walk around surveying people from behind your big sunglasses. When you walk into a small cafe after some time and scan the few customers you almost miss the face you've memorized from your briefing file. He's sitting in a corner eating with a newspaper. You order something small to not raise suspicion and eat it quickly before exiting the shop. There are lots of places to give you a vantage point of the cafe's entrance so you pick one and wait out of sight for Müller to come out. Eventually, he strolls out of the cafe and turns left so carefully, using buildings as cover, you follow Müller for some time. He doesn't stop anywhere until he comes to a small house at basically the edge of town. You watch the house for a while hoping that he'll leave for you to check it out a bit closer. When it starts to pass a half hour you ruffle through your tote for one of the random prototype gadets Tony's always giving you to test out. One of the things is a little box holding a buglike device. You remember him explaining this one, it's supposed to do surveillance. You open the box and turn it on, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket indicating it's connected. You locate an open window and release the camera bug towards Müller's house, making sure it gets inside before heading back to your hotel to make a plan.

"What have you been doing for the last two hours?" Steve asks as soon as you walk back into your room.

"Tracking Müller. Like I said I would. Did you just sit and sulk?"

"No." Steve glares. "Did you find him?"

"Yes I did. It looks like he's staying alone too." You say passing your phone to Steve for him to see the footage from the bug camera.

"Wait you planted a camera?"

"I saw him in town and followed him til he ended up at this house. Then I used one Tony's little doodads. It's a camera the size of a bug that can fly like one too."

"So you know where this is?"

"Yes I do. It's practically at the edge of town. We should have no problem getting to him later."

"Okay." He nods. "Alright so here's what we'll do. We'll track him with this camera til nightfall and then we'll go get him. It should be quick, sneak in knock him out and get him loaded into the truck."

"Yeah okay." You nod, taking your phone back from Steve. Periodically you check the camera bug that follows Müller around his temporary home over the next several hours. Just before the sun goes down, you notice something odd when you're checking the footage. Müller's moving frantically about, it looks like- he's packing.

"Müller's on the move." You say grabbing the keys to the truck and rushing out of your hotel. Steve runs out behind you.

"Y-Alissa wait!" Steve calls as you start the truck and he almost doesn't get in quick enough as you pull away. "Geez y/n where's the fire?" He asks.

"It looks very much like Müller is about to get the hell outta dodge. We need to move now." You say.

"Wait a second this is very much not what we were planning to-"

"Yeah well that's gonna have to change the man is packing his bags as we speak."

"Are you sure that's what you saw I mean-"

"Rogers argue with me later." You grumble out. Driving, the trip to Müller's is much shorter and you're there in only a few minutes. You hop out immediately even as Steve calls for you to give it a minute. No way are you letting him get away when he's right here. You burst into the small home, that's really just one room and shock the man inside so hard he almost trips. He's quick to get his barings though and lunges at you, grabbing a kitchen knife on his way towards you. You dodge him pretty easily even though he weilds the knife much better than you'd expect of a labcoat. He manages a couple scratches before disarm him and take him down with a plate to the head.

"Dammit y/n. I told you to wait." Steve grits out angrily as you drag Müller towards the truck that's still running.

"What's the big deal? We got our guy." You shrug, folding Müller into the backseat awkwardly."

"Maybe you were too busy charging like a bull to notice that we've drawn attention." He hisses.

"So let's hit the fucking road." You roll your eyes and climb into the passenger seat of the car. Steve lets out an angry huff but gets in the driver side and begins your trip back to the launch pad in central Italy. It'll take you most of the night to get there but you let Tony know to expedite the jet since you'll definitely be there before 6am. At some point, you have to sedate Müller when he starts to groan in the back seat. By the time you make it to the launch pad, agents are waiting with the jet.

"Agent y/l/n, Captain Rogers. Welcome back." One of the agents nods at you both when you exit the truth.

"Hey Jackson. Müller's in the backseat- mind grabbing him for me?" You smile as you tug your duffle out of the car.

"Of course." He nods opening the back door and hauling Müller's still unconscious body from the truck to the jet with ease.

"I could've handled that." Steve says to you.

"Who cares? I probably could've handled it too but we have bags to grab and the fewer trips the better." You roll your eyes.

"The jet's fueled and prepped for takeoff and our reports indicate clear weather so it should be smooth travels." Agent Jackson says to you, although Steve is likely going to monopolize flying.

"Thanks. Then I guess we'll be off." You say heading onto the jet. You toss your bag down and take a moment to secure Müller to the seat he's in at the back of the jet while Steve talks to the agents for a few minutes before following you into the aircraft.

"Make sure he's secure." Steve tosses at you as he passes.

"No shit Sherlock." You roll your eyes, getting into your seat up front next to him and strapping yourself in as he prepares to fly.

"If he wakes midair we don't wanna worry about him ambushing us."

"First of all what're the chances that guy would even be able to take us both? Secondly, I'm not an idiot, he's chained to that seat. Even if he wakes up he's not going anywhere." You scoff.

"To your question; better safe than sorry."

"Yeah whatever." You mutter.

"Not whatever, in fact, speaking of, you were extremely reckless last night." Steve says sternly.

"I was instinctive."

"Oh please. You rushed over there without a plan, ignored my instructions, and charged in carelessly. What if he was armed? Not to mention the fact that people noticed that something was going on. You could've gotten somebody hurt."

"First of all he was armed technically and as you can see, not a scratch on me so can it. You saw just as well as I did that he was packing his things Rogers, the man was about ready to flee and we could not lose him."

"We had a plan-"

"Plans change Rogers its not the end of the world."

"It is when you put people at risk dang it. If you had just followed-"

"If I didn't move when I did we could've missed our chance entirely. He wouldn't be here if I followed 'the plan' that didn't account for a frantic relocation of our target. I made sure the mission got done and the only person at risk was myself which would be the case regardless because that comes with the territory."

"You-"

"God are you two married or something?" Müller's voice shocks you even as you and Steve respond immediately.

"NO!" You shout together.

"You argue like a couple." Müller muses.

"You are so very wrong about that assumption." You scoff.

"Well I was only pointing out-"

"Don't. As a matter of fact if you speak again Müller you'll spend the remainder of this flight strapped to the outside of the jet like a cannoe."

"Can you even do that?"

"Do you really wanna find out?" You glare at him. That effectively shuts him up and cuts your argument with Steve short so the rest of your flight is flown in silence. When you land, it's you who unchains Müller from his seat and puts him cuffs to drag him out of the jet.

"Thank God that's over, the tension between you and the obstinate man was getting unbearable." Müller says.

"Whatever you were sensing was not tension. We barely get along." You roll your eyes.

"Does he know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"When you aren't paying attention he looks at you as if you're responsible for the stars in the sky."

"Those glasses of yours must be the wrong prescription." You scoff.

"You may think me many things but a fool should never be one. You might not agree but some things are easier to observe as an outsider."

"When it comes to people I'd take advice from a Nazi scientist is absolutely not on the list so please save it." You say.

"Y/n! We'll take him from here." An agent grabs your attention as you make it to the building. The walk from the helipad has never felt so long.

"Consider what I said." Müller says as he's dragged off.

"What he said?" Steve frowns from behind you.

"Just- mindless blathering." You grumble walking off to your room. You are not about to let some idiot you just met with no idea who you are get in your head about something he absolutely does not understand.

"Y/N! YOU'RE BACK!" Wanda bursts into your room just after you've closed he door.

"You are- always the first to find me." You chuckle as she throws her arms around you.

"I missed you so much! I almost called you like five times."

"Wanda I was only gone for like four days." You laugh.

"And the HBIC has returned." Natasha strolls in and sits on your bed.

"Hello to you too Nat." You chuckle.

"So? How was it?" Wanda asks.

"Well I didn't shove a dagger between his shoulderblades." You shrug and Natasha laughs.

"Oh come on, that can't be all you've got to say." Wanda scoffs.

"Honestly Wanda not stabbing him in the spine is a pretty raving review for a mission where I had to pretend to be his honeymooning wife."

"Did you even have to play the loving couple?" Natasha asks.

"Well when we got to the first place the woman checking us in was a lovely old Italian woman who was very interested in the fact that we were honeymooning so around her we did have to do the hand holding and dreamy sighing for her sake." You shrug.

"You made it back pretty quickly." Natasha points out.

"I'm efficient." You shrug.

"What does that mean?" Wanda asks.

"It means I tracked down Müller with the help of some gossiping women in town and good old fashion espionage then I made sure he didn't get away once we found him by apprehending him when I realized he was definitely about to vacate. Much to Steve's dismay apparently."

"His dismay?" Wanda frown.

"He lectured me twice because we had a plan and I had to make a change last minute when I saw the guy frantically packing his bags on our little surveillance bug."

"Wait so what was his problem?" Natasha frowned.

"We had a plan and I couldn't follow it. If I'd listened to him we totally would've lost Müller all together. He just hates when he's not the one calling the shots. It's like any decision I make that's not his idea is wrong. I know I said I don't hate him but man does he make it hard to believe that."

"The way you butt heads- I can't believe you made it home and in four days no less." Nat shakes her head.

"Like I said I'm efficient. And personal feelings will never stop me from completing a mission. You can say lots of things about me but you'd be lying if you said I don't do my job well." You shrug. A knock on your doorframe grabs your attention to find Steve standing in the still open doorway of your bedroom.

"Hi Nat, Wanda." He nods to them.

"Welcome back Steve!" Wanda waves.

"Hey Rogers." Natasha nods.

"Y/n, we need to talk." Steve says looking at you.

"If you're going to complain again about me not sticking to your plan save your breath. I have better things to do and if you have that much free time I suggest you follow my example and find a better way to spend it." You roll your eyes.

"It's not that."

"Then what do you want?"

"Alone, please." Steve glances at Natasha and Wanda who look at you.

"Go. I'll talk to you later girls." You tell them and they quickly slip out of your room. "Make it quick Rogers I just spent 4 days with you and I think that is plenty for us for a while."

"What Müller was saying-"

"On the jet? He's an idiot, who cares? As if anyone with sense would assume we're married the way we argue." You scoff.

"Not on the jet. After we landed. His, 'mindless blathering' as you put it."

"Are you expecting a play by play of that conversation because it was so inconsequential I've already forgotten most of it-"

"I heard him. My hearing is- better than average so, I know what he said."

"So did you just ask for funsies earlier?" You frown.

"Well no I just wondered what you'd say about it."

"He doesn't know either of us so I have nothing to say about it. The ramblings of some criminal are the last thing on my mind so if you've come here to tell me not to pay him attention I already wasn't-"

"You are so frustrating." Steve huffs out.

"Excuse me? What is your problem?!" You blink at him.

"My problem is you! You are my sole source of torment!"

"The fact that you are a boring bitch is not my fault! How am I the source of your torment you walking piece of styrofoam!?"

"Oh where do I begin with you?! Your smile makes my heart ache!"

"Yeah well you- wait, what?" Your eyes widen as you process his words, retort dying when you realize he didn't actually insult you.

"You walk into a room and it immediately lights up. Your laugh is better than symphonies. You are so effortlessly so amazing that you've enthralled me without trying. It's incredibly annoying." He rattles off.

"I- I'm really confused." You frown.

"Damn it y/n I'm in love with you!" He forces out. Plot twist. You totally did not see that coming.

"You're in love with me?"

"Somehow yes and everything you do makes it worse. It's infuriating to know my life is no longer mine and that is in in fact yours."

"This is the most paradoxical love confession I've ever gotten. Do you want, an apology or a date?" You ask.

"Wait- what?" Now it's his turn to give you a wide eyed stare.

"Well, you're in love with me but you seem to be very... inconvenienced by it so- should I be saying sorry or telling you to plan a date for Friday night?"

"Wait y-you'd go on a date with me?" His brow furrows.

"If you'd ask me on one."

"I thought you hated me?"

"You're critical of everything I do. So I intentionally get on your nerves. If I had known it was because you had a crush on me I might've been nicer to you. We aren't in kindergarten though Steve being mean to someone you like doesn't get you anywhere." You cross your arms.

"So- will you go on a date with me?"

"Yes I'll go on a date with you. Does Friday night work for you?"

"Friday's Perfect. I'll- let you know the details once I sort them out."

"Alright. I'm going to finish unpacking. I'll see you around." You smile.

"Kay." Steve's cheeks tinge slightly pink as he smiles at you in that shy 'you make me nervous way'.

"Anything else?" You ask when he doesn't move.

"Oh! N-no. I- I'm gonna go." He tells you.

"Okay. See ya." You chuckle as he scrambles out of your room. You can't believe you have a date with Steve Rogers. He may not be a complex man but he sure is a confusing one. To think all those times he was picking fights with you was because he had a crush- you almost hate the way it makes you giddy to think about it. But honestly who could stand a chance against a love confession like that? His life is yours?! You've never even heard him speak so dramatically before. When he came in here you said four days was more than enough time for you to spend to gehter and now well, let's just say you can't wait for Friday.

***

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america fanfiction

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itsohh · 30 days

Text

Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020

“All I ask is that you give it a go-”

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior.

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you.

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table.

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry.

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you.

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you.

Sam Fisher.

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up.

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear.

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food.

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table.

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?”

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face.

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took.

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious.

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless.

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.”

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only.

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed.

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top.

“What's this?” You asked.

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table.

“Uniform.”

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow.

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar.

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died.

“This here is your pager.”

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.”

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.”

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second.

“Better get moving then.”

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.”

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already.

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you.

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.”

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?”

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh.

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.”

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale.

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room.

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg.

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.”

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound.

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed.

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.”

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside.

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted.

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice.

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.”

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr.

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again.

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway.

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched.

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off.

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.”

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.”

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door.

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.”

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him.

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit.

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled.

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.”

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room.

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed.

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused.

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair.

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…”

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.”

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you.

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment.

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.”

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake.

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table.

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep.

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on.

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms.

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver.

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall.

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand.

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly.

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr.

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.”

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger.

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground.

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw.

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke.

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.”

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up.

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?”

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips.

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.”

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken.

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier.

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were.

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head.

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed?

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch.

“It's bruised but you can handle that.”

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything.

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.”

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?”

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.”

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed.

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.”

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed.

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed.

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face.

“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that.

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.”

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.”

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope.

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover.

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused.

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked.

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck.

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name.

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it.

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together.

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you.

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him.

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement.

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.”

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.”

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more.

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance.

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.”

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone.

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape.

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him.

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up.

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you.

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips.

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face.

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch.

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.”

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease.

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside.

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall.

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest.

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears.

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him.

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings.

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table.

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it.

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks.

They weren't.

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?”

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form.

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised.

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people.

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.”

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet.

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes.

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back.

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence.

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed.

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #deimos x reader #gerald morris

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