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#ah I'll tag it just in case
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Okay so obviously the more important thing here was Angel's reaction to it, but
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Husk's face when he realized Valentino was there.....
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starpros-sunshine · 6 months
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See this is why I like enstars because usually the issue would be done now and I'd return back to my usual state of listless apathetic semi-detachement but now I'm invested in getting this card home and if I don't I will continue to be at least a bit sad about it isn't it fascinating how people work isn't it just marvelous that a mobile game can do that to you
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steakout-05 · 8 months
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thinking about concept art for some unused Fruit Ninja characters that never made a single appearance in any official media and never got a chance to shine.....
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oh Katini and Munch... maybe one day you will make your mark on the world......
(art by Shaun Campbell on his Behance page)
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JOJO DID YOU SEE THE NEWS
The last part of the final arc starts on the 19th
。゜૮(`Д´)ა゜。
-no.1
Yes I did, I really don't think we can call of this the final arc though, it's been going on forever lmao, the three deities feels like it'd own thing.
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tasukete-eirin · 1 year
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i keep thinking about prom again...
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reticent-writer · 3 months
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Hiii, can you please write another fic about a teenage reader (16-18) and anybody from hazbin hotel. It can be about anything
HEloooo
Alastor x teen reader platonic
Headcannon by @ghostly-one: "During Alastor's absence, Reader went to the overlord meetings in his place"
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✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
*knock knock knock*
You heard as you groaned and pushed your head up from your pillow.
"It's me, Y/n." You could hear the radio static through your door, "I have an errand to run and would like for you to join me."
"I'll be down in a minute." You replied as you started to get up.
------
"Oh, boy whats the plan, boss?"
"I like your suits."
"What are the antlers for?"
"Can I touch your ~staff thing~?"
"Are those your ears? or is it your hair? I can't tell."
The egg boiz were annoying the fuck outta you and Alastor. If you knew they would've tagged along, you wouldn't have come even if you were going to an overlord meeting.
"Hark Alastor, Y/n. How fare thee this day." Zestial appeared from nowhere in front of the both of you.
"Good evening Zestial, It's nice to see you again." You greeted with a smile as Alastor quickly threatened the eggs.
"Greetings Zestial." Alastor said as the sinners around you three started to take notice and run.
"Ah, the weather doth become this fine day."
"Indeed. Looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon."
"If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou? It has been an age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. Y/n hast been in thy lodging since thee've been gone." Zestial looked to you with a pleased expression as he patted your shoulder before continuing his conversation with Alastor.
"Some hath spun wild tales of you falling into... Holy arms."
"Hahaha Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical. Nothing serious. Though it's fun to keep everyone of their toes."
"There too hath been rumour of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy. TELL ME, how does thou fall in such folly." Zestial would've creeped you out if you weren't used to his (and Alastor's) over-the-top and old-timey ways.
"That is more me to know. But please do guess. I'd love to know the theories."
"T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your mind, Alastor. Thou hath been naught but an enigma since thy manifested in this realm."
"Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment."
The three of you made it the the building where the meeting would be taking place as you and Zestial stepped into the elevator you waiting for Alastor to tell the eggs to wait for him before pressing the button.
-------
You sat in between Alastor and one of Carmilla's daughters.
"Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of out city. Together you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest." Carmilla said matter-of-factly. "Zestial, so good to see you, my friend."
"Enchanted as always Carmilla." He said as he sipped his tea.
Carmilla was about to look around the room when she spotted Alastor. The face that she made nearly made you laugh.
"Alastor?"
"Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering." Alastor spoke like he'd been waiting 7 years just to say that.
"Not really. But welcome back in any case." She dismissed him. You could hear the static abruptly stop and had to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh.
Once the meeting started you zoned out staring at the wall. To be honest you didn't really care about the meetings you were only there to show your face and now that Alastor is back it gave you less of a reason to care, but interesting things did happen quite often.
Like Velvette wanting a war with the exterminators.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
Zestial translation: It would be much more foolish to think that I understand how your mind works, Alastor. You have always been a mystery to me ever since you came into this world. (just thought it would be nice to add this.)
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@ghostly-one
This is choppy and rushed but parade season is starting soon and I have a lot of performances before then too.
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blueparadis · 10 months
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LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)
special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair
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“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously. 
It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.
“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ” 
“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown. 
“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.
“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san—?”
“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”
“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that. 
The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.
“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.
“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.
“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”
“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”
“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily. 
“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”
You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out. 
Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.
You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort. 
Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.
@angelshub @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner
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mistydeyes · 10 months
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a sick day visit
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summary: You prided yourself on not getting sick. Even as a child, you bragged about your perfect attendance. However, the day has finally come and you’re in bed with a sore throat and swollen lymph nodes. Noting your absence, the 141 decides to pay you a visit.
pairing: 141 x pharmacist!Reader
if you want to read some other interactions with our lovely pharmacist -> pharmacist!reader tag
warnings: swearing, medical terminology/descriptions of illness
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Healthcare professionals never get sick. They just don't. That's why when you woke up with a sore throat, swollen and painful lymph nodes, and a headache, you silently cursed everything in the universe. The last few days you were more tired than usual but nothing out of the ordinary. You were supposed to report to the pharmacy at 07:00 hours but you knew you weren't going to make it there. You groggily grabbed your phone and made a few phone calls. Eventually, after an hour, you were able to get one of your civilian pharmacist colleagues to fill in for you. "Thanks, Dr. Stewart, I already notified security and the techs that you'll be coming in today," you hoarsely croaked out and hung up the phone.
Once everything was in order, you put a plain shirt and pants on and bundled yourself in a blanket. You knew that you should go visit the doctor to find out what was wrong. You brushed your teeth to have a semblance of normalcy but to put it politely, you looked like hell. Before you left, you made sure to find a medical mask, just in case whatever you had was contagious. You slipped on some shoes and exited your quarters to the medical wing.
As you walked, you ignored the bewildered looks of the soldiers as they passed. Some gave you a quick, "Good morning, Captain," and you weakly gave them a wave. Eventually, you could see Captain Price emerge from an adjoining hallway and he locked eyes with you. "Captain L/N, heard you were missing from the pharmacy today," he said and you moved to the side of the hallway to allow others to walk. "Hi John, just feeling under the weather, should be back tomorrow," you said softly. You could see the pity in his eyes as you used your elbow to cough. "Just let me know if you need anything, I'll personally have the 141 deliver anything," he said kindly and allowed you to continue to the doctor.
Despite being a pharmacist, you hated going to the doctor. Something about the sterility of the environment made you uneasy. "Ah Captain, funny seeing you here," the doctor commented as she entered. You smiled, she was one of your better friends in this department and you relaxed upon seeing her. "Definitely don't want to under these circumstances," you replied and she motioned for you to take off your mask so she could begin examining you. As soon as you opened your mouth, you could tell she knew what was wrong with you.
"What is it?" you asked and she dialed a number on the medical wing's phone. "Oh love, I think you have mononucleosis. I'm going to run some blood work and have a test done but it's pretty certain," she spoke and you were surprised. "Isn't that only spread through direct contact or saliva?" you asked. It was a silly question as mononucleosis was also known as the kissing disease but you wanted extra confirmation. "It can be or it can be spread by sharing utensils or drinks," she said and you internally facepalmed. You silently regretted going out for drinks with your techs and trying everyone's drinks. "It usually takes about 1-2 months to show symptoms," she continued, "there is no treatment, only rest, liquids, and paracetamol."
After two hours of waiting for your results with the phlebotomist, your doctor's suspicions were confirmed. "Sorry Captain," the phlebotomist said and sent you back to your room with a bottle of paracetamol and some Liquid IV. As you changed into pajamas, you made sure to notify your staff of your diagnosis and promised you'd be back at work as soon as your fever broke. Having nothing else to do, you settled back into bed and grabbed a book for the long days of recovery ahead.
You were almost finished with your book when you heard a knock on your door. "Coming," you called and put an Army sweatshirt on before opening it. At the door were four men who you immediately recognized as the 141. You almost laughed when you saw them all wearing matching balaclavas with a skeleton painted on them. Better safe than sorry, I guess. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked as you held the door partially open. "Heard our favorite pharmacist was sick so we brought you some things," Gaz smiled at you and you noticed a small bag of goodies in Soap's hands. "What you got anyways?" Soap asked as he handed you the bag. "Don't laugh but I have mono," you said and everyone took a step back. "I promise I'm not contagious but no kissing and sharing drinks for me for a little while," you joked and you could see everyone take a deep breath. You invited them inside your room to continue the conversation.
As they walked into your room they admired the decor. Unlike some other officers, the base was your permanent housing arrangement. You decided to make it as much of a home as possible. This included bringing in carpets for the cold tile floors, a bookshelf filled with pharmacy textbooks and novels in various languages, and other little trinkets. You even had a few pictures of your favorite people including your proud parents. You sat on the bed and the men cozied themselves on the carpet and your small loveseat. You allowed everyone a moment to settle as you could see them eye your decor. Everyone seemed to find something that peaked their interest. Simon studied your posters of famous art pieces, Gaz tried to figure out the locations of the postcards from your uni pharmacy friends, and Soap was intensely looking at the colorful pillows that adorned your bed. "Quite a setup you have here," Price commented as he thumbed through your Russian copy of Wuthering Heights. "Might as well make this place a home," you smiled and pulled a blanket around yourself.
"Do you know how you got it?" Ghost spoke up suddenly. "Well it might have been my fault but it was probably when I took my techs to a pub off-base," you sheepishly answered. "It was stupid but we all thought it would be a great idea to share drinks," you continued. "I thought it was the kissing disease," Gaz commented as you finished your story. You laughed lightly before responding. "That's one of the easiest ways to get it but anything with saliva contact spreads it," you began, "Plus there's no significant other I would have to worry about, Sergeant" Suspiciously, they all smiled and you couldn't understand why they were so invested in your love life.
"Anyways how have you been?" you asked and Price was the first one to speak up. "Back again for a while but we still miss your patient care in the pharmacy," he replied and everyone nodded their heads in response. "Your friend doesn't know what they're doin," Soap pitched in, "he just gives us our prescriptions without even a hello." Your smile faltered slightly, you were upset to hear this is how he treated your patients. "I'll be back soon, I promise," you responded. After a lull of silence, you yawned as today's events had tired you out. "You should open the bag," Ghost mentioned and you suddenly remembered the gift they put together.
You grabbed the small brown bag that sat next to you and poured its contents out on your duvet. Inside, they had put some snacks from the vending machine, bags of tea, and a crudely drawn picture of what looked like the members of the 141. "Oh thank you all," you gasped and went to pick up the drawing. "Why this though?" you asked and saw four figures carrying a comically sized pill bottle to what looked like you with a mask and blanket. "What I thought it was funny," Soap said defensively and you smiled. "I'll be sure to frame this one," you said before setting it back down. Despite being cold-hearted soldiers, they did some nice things sometimes. Eventually after some more light conversation, they could tell you needed some rest and saw themselves out. "Thanks again for stopping by," you called as they exited. "Anytime," Price said before he closed your room's door.
As they walked down the hall, you could hear their conversation through the thin wall. "You see that picture of them from uni?" you heard Gaz ask. "Ye the one next to the bookshelf, right?" Soap responded. "Didn't know that wearing a bathing suit with a pharmacy coat was part of the uniform," you heard Gaz say and your eyes shot to the aforementioned photo. You stood there, two other friends from pharmacy school, on the beaches of Cornwall only wearing a bathing suit and your white coat. Next time you invite someone over, you'll be sure to hide that photo.
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mayonakano-archive · 2 years
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ok this highkey doesn’t fit the tone of my blog but given all my friends its been on my mind and like...
Gender, amirite? Like. It’s so fascinating to see all my friends and everyone I follow have such unique ways of interacting with and connecting with (or not?) their gender and identities and stuff. Like. I’m fascinated by it. It’s neat to see how everyone takes that stuff and molds it to themself. Gender binaries are stupid and I’m glad to see people embracing themselves <3 That’s all! I just think it’s fun to watch everyone grow and change and embrace themselves as they are. The world is pretty. You all are, too <3
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eddiemuonson · 4 months
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good partner
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Summary: You get a call from Sam asking to help him and Bucky find the Super Soldiers, and get Zemo out of prison. You're still not done with your mission, but the former Winter Soldier doesn't like the idea of you around. This is mostly based on episode 4 of the show, "The Whole World is Watching". I wanted to write something light but you can request a smut.
Warning: Angst, mentions of The Winter Soldier, fluff | Word count: 4k
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
A loud thud echoed through the loft as Zemo hit his back against the hard floor. You stomped your foot on his chest and heard him grunt against gritted teeth.
"I'm in this case as well. You're just a rat who got lucky from getting out of a cell" You spat out. Both Sam and Bucky trying hard not to snort.
The baron still kept his gaze at you, holding your foot so tight you almost stumbled. He got up on his foot and wrapped a hand around your bicep.
"Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage. I can't trust you" He locked his eyes on yours and squeezed his fingers on your skin.
You let out a dry scoff. They should've let him die in that prison. Behind your back, Sam was about to step in. Zemo had shifted his demeanor to a cold look. "You let them do it. Stay out of it".
"And who are you to say shit about what I should or should not do?" Raising your voice, he didn't flinch.
The man pointed a finger at you as a warning, still holding his damn tea cup. Only a slight second later, Bucky shattered the glass against the wall and pulled him by his collar.
"You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?" The soldier asked him. He tightened his metal wrist and you could see his shoulder grow wide.
Sam stood next to him, resting a hand on his forearm. "Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing".
Bucky still had him in his grip. Zemo didn't hold any expression, otherwise. It was infuriating. "You want some cherry blossom tea?"
You watched as the taller man twisted his collar. "You fucking touch her again, I'll break your neck". He shoved the baron backward and left the living room.
You were surprised, to say the least. Bucky was annoyed you were on this mission with them. He thought you were actually missing a few points and messing with their plan.
But much to his dismay, Sam agreed to have you on board and didn't complain about your work. Said his partner was just being grumpy.
The former Winter Soldier was leaning against the countertop, his hands gripping tightly against the edge. You offered a glass of water, which he denied.
The Falcon was somewhere else making a call, which left you alone with an irritated soldier and a trash bag of an ex-prisoner.
"Don't let him get through your head" You whispered, standing close to Bucky. He didn't look back at you. "It's what he likes to do. Ever since the last time you engaged".
He gulped harshly, it was back when he was being accused of planning a bombing in Vienna. And then, when he was held hostage in Germany, where Zemo broke him and brought Winter Soldier back.
"I don't like him either. But it's easier if we just ignore" You tried to humor him, but he still wasn't in the mood for interaction.
"Would that work if I ignored you as well?" Bucky lifted his eyes to meet yours. He had a stupid faux grin on his face.
As soon as he didn't get a response, he walked past you and made his way back to follow Sam, leaving you alone with Zemo.
~~
You're all gathered around as The Falcon goes through the plan again. Refusing to tag along with Zemo, you had to agree and make Bucky company.
They tracked Karli Morgenthau to a memorial service. But John Walker and his partner figured out the exact same plan. All you wanted to do was get all the serum back.
That is, if you didn't run into the shittiest Captain America while you and Bucky walked up the alley. You could literally hear him tightening his fists, his metal arm already functioning.
"Ah! How’d you find us now?" The soldier carried an unamused tone in his voice. You watched as John and his partner got closer to you both.
"You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?" He wasn't wrong, but you knew Bucky was past that now.
The Captain motioned his head towards you, measuring you from head to toe. "New Avenger?"
You snorted out loud and cracked a laugh. Your stomach was starting to cramp and the soldier next to you watched as John held a confused look.
"She's just a partner" He shrugged. "Sam asked for her help".
"Yeah, but not just a partner. So you better not step foot on our plans" Bucky knows how much of a menace you are.
He can't disagree with the fact that you can actually start a fight with the wrong people and not fear them.
John snorted and you narrowed your eyes at him. "Yeah, right. You wanna meet Karli, there will be civilians there. There's a high risk of casualties".
"No one's asking for your opinion, Cap. Sam is gonna talk to her and reason her" You tried to face him, but his demeanor didn't go down on you.
"She blew up a fucking building with people in it. If he's in there alone with a Super Soldier, he's getting himself killed".
Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's dealt with worse".
You were waiting inside the building while Sam tried to convince Karli. John couldn't stop pacing back and forth, even Zemo seemed annoyed already.
He started complaining about how dangerous it was, but the soldier next to you made sure it hadn't even been ten minutes yet.
Already done with his bullshit, you shifted on your foot. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. You weren't supposed to be there in the first place. He knows you're highly qualified and if shit went down you'd protect yourself.
And even though he's still pissed you're there, he can't wrap his head around the fact that this could be really dangerous for you.
John almost towered over Bucky, he was deadpanning at the Captain. "This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins".
"Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?" He tried getting into his head, but the man next to you did nothing but chuckle.
"You really don't know Sam, do you?" You chimed in and watched as John narrowed his eyes at you. "You come in here parading this new shield which, by the way, doesn't fucking belong to you and you want to dictate shit?"
By this point, he really wishes he could hit a woman. Bucky notices how John moves his body and tries to face you, but he doesn't let him.
"You better keep your distance" He warned the Captain, who took a few steps back and raised his hands in surrender.
John didn't wait five more minutes and decided to intervene in their conversation. Karli was fast enough and knocked them down before running away. You couldn't find her in the maze, but Zemo made sure to destroy the serums she had. Or he thought so.
~~
Back in the loft, the German man was lying on the couch with a soft fabric covering his eyes. He was talking about how Super Soldiers weren't allowed to exist.
In gets Bucky as he sighs before taking his jacket off. You couldn't take your eyes off his firm body, his strong arms, and perfectly shaped abs.
You were sitting opposite to him as he was on his back, just staring at his entire body. He poured a glass of whiskey before speaking up about his suspicions about John.
"Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy" He says as he rests his lips on the rim of the glass.
"Good thing you recognize that" You let out a laugh, and he snaps his eyes at you.
Bucky rolls his eyes and speaks through the glass. "You should have a look in the mirror".
You're taken aback by his response and open your mouth, ready for retaliation, but he speaks up again. "Shouldn't have given him the shield".
Sam stood next to him and pointed a finger, but you defended him. "He didn't give it".
You're sitting on the couch with your arms crossed against your chest. The former Winter Soldier walks toward you before crouching in front of you.
"Steve definitely didn't. And you're past the point of giving an opinion here. I said this mission wasn't for you".
He was too annoyed today, that's for sure. But that didn't give him the right to be a brat with you all the time. And you should ignore him, but the bickering gets him all the time.
You lift your torso and fill the gap between your faces. His brows are furrowed. "You don't get to say what I should or should not do".
The staring lingers for a while until the new captain barges into the loft asking for you all to turn Zemo over.
"Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today" Sam walks over to him.
John tries to tease your friend before the Wakandans enter the loft. They peacefully ask to turn Zemo as well, but a fight bursts in the room.
You run towards the corner of the room behind a pillar, while the wakandan knocks the captain and his friend down. The other three men are standing there, watching him get beat up with amused looks on their faces.
"Looking strong, John" Bucky teases and you snort loudly. He snaps his head your way and grins.
The soldier tries reasoning with Ayo, but she pulls herself away from him and continues to fight against John and his partner. Both him and Sam are too busy to notice that Zemo is trying to get away.
You run after him and hold the door knobs before he can lock himself. "Where the hell you think you're going?"
"Let go, or I'll shoot you" He warns, but you paid no mind. Only then, he gripped his gun quickly before shoving you backward, locking himself.
You looked over your shoulders and watched as Bucky was kneeling on the floor, grabbing his metal arm.
"Shit" You mutter and rush to him. "Everything okay?"
He carried a different look for a slight second, almost vulnerable. He reattached his arm back. Bucky looked at you and nodded. You grabbed his limb and carefully inspected it.
"Did you know they could do that?" He was still glancing down at you. His blue eyes were soft and light. He shook his head and clanked his arm.
Later on, Zemo was still nowhere near to be found, while Sam and Bucky were pissed they missed him.
"How could you not hold him back?" Your friend was messaging a few people he knew might know about him.
"I tried. He pointed a fucking gun to my head" You snapped.
The other man sat next to you on the stool by the countertop. He let out a sharp inhale. "Was it even loaded? He could've just tricked you".
"How the fuck would I know?" Your face was millimeters away from his once again. Your breath was fanning his face and you watched as he tightened his jaw.
"Know why I hate this fucking plan? Because you had one job today and you couldn't even do it" You closed your fists and clicked your jaw at his words.
"As much as I know Sam would bow down to you and say you're a great partner. I beg to differ" He got from his seat and walked with his heavy boots against the floor toward the couch.
Your voice cut through the air with bitterness and you immediately regretted it. "Sometimes you're no different from the Winter Soldier".
He stopped his tracks and spun around. Quickly, Bucky captured your face with his metal hand and squeezed your cheeks, making you pout.
"What the fuck did you just say?" His forehead was brushing yours and you could see rage in his eyes.
"Let go of her. She's just disappointed" Sam gave you a cold look before handling his partner. He grabbed Bucky by the shoulder before the man shoved your face.
You were sitting alone in the loft during the night, trying to book a flight home. Obviously, your plan to help with the mission became a disaster, nonetheless, from the beginning you knew Bucky didn't agree on this.
He thought you couldn't keep up with the plan and he was right. You were making things worse at this point. You wanted to help them, you tracked the Super Soldiers and you helped with Zemo, but that was just it.
Now you're debating whether you should just go without warning or not. Sam is going to be pissed at the end of it. He knows you're better than that, and after what you told Bucky there's no way you can face him again.
Your friend watched you from the corner of the hallway. He knows you're hurting from what happened, you wouldn't snap like that if his partner didn't push you. Sam talked to him, but he was too angry to actually forgive you.
He didn't blame him either.
"Hey, you going to sleep or what?" Sam asked as soon as he dropped his weight on the couch next to you. He peeked through your screen and saw it. "Woah, you're not leaving right? This isn't over. I still need you. We need to find Zemo".
"You can do that without me. You did it before. Besides, he's out there because of me. And Bucky is tired of my face".
He closed your laptop, and you glanced at him. "I can do it, but I don't want to. S'why I reached out to you. And we're gonna find him, he needs us too".
"And Bucky... I think it's just his sexual frustration talking" He laughed as you gasped at his words.
"Sam, what the fuck?"
"Dude doesn't even go on dates, he's probably nervous having a woman around. He's always been grumpy, I think it's in his nature. He'll come around at some point" He grinned at you.
"That's not my problem. He keeps pushing me, I'll fight back" You didn't need to look at him to see he was definitely enjoying the playfulness.
"You guys should just have sex. This is so annoying" Sam grabbed his phone as you choked on your own spit.
"For the love of God, drop this conversation before I snap at you too".
He handed the phone to you, saying Karli was threatening his sister and his nephews. She wants to find him, alone.
He has other plans, of course. But you can't even think about accepting the idea before Bucky gets to talk.
"He doesn't need to know. I'll go with him, you meet us there".
~~
You watched as he and Bucky fought the Super Soldiers along with John and his partner. They were beating each other up relentlessly.
One of them pulled a pocket knife and tried stabbing Bucky and you gasped. He shielded himself, dropping the object close to their face.
He had a snapped cut on his nose, and his jaw was split up. His knuckles were bloody red. Sam was in better shape than his friend, though.
You were shocked when you saw John's partner sitting unconscious on the floor. The captain rushed to him, too desperate to make any sense.
You pulled Bucky and Sam away and ran out of the building. "We gotta get the hell out of here now. He's gonna kill the kid" Your hands were shaking, and you almost tripped on your foot.
"Hey, woah. What are you doing here?" Bucky stopped in his tracks, looking back.
"Let's argue later, dipshit" Sam shouted at the soldier as you kept running.
In the loft, you asked Bucky to sit on the stool as you worked on his injuries. Starting on his nose, he hissed at the contact with the wet cloth.
"Keep steady, crybaby" You whispered and he looked up at you.
You cleaned the dried blood from his face and managed to apply some saline solution. The entire time, he kept his gaze on you. He noticed how focused you were on his injuries and how gently you managed it.
He held his hands up as you cleaned up his knuckles. They were red from all the punching, and it surprised you how he was still human besides the serum.
You squeeze his hands lightly, too embarrassed to look back at him before apologizing. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. It was a really shitty thing to say, and you don't deserve it. I was an asshole".
Bucky trailed his eyes to scan your face. He had a peaceful look. "I shouldn't have pushed you either. I was just annoyed Sam brought someone up to this mess".
"I accepted it. There's no right or wrong, I wanted to help". You were both still brushing your fingertips against each other.
"You're not bad after all" He mused and you chuckled. "I just- I don't think I can keep losing people".
You saw his raw personality right in front of you. That man who kept his serious and defensive demeanor was showing his true self. It was hard to miss it.
Your hand grasped his jawline, carefully rubbing his skin. He almost faltered. "That won't happen. I got two Avengers to protect me".
He snorted, showing his teeth when he laughed. "Should've seen that coming".
"And more than anyone else, you deserve that happiness. You just need to stop lying about your nightmares".
"How do you-" He was about to ask and you tilt your head.
"Sam and I talk. I know it's hard to erase the past. But you're James again, you're you" Your other hand is still holding him tightly.
Bucky refuses to look at you for a moment. And when he does, his eyes are glassy. "It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me".
You smack your lips. "You need to stop thinking you're making amends. You need to give them closure, be of service for them. Stop thinking like you still owe them just an apology".
He drops his head and bites his lip. You hold his chin up and force him to look at you. "You're not that guy anymore".
You were about to get closer for the hundredth time. Maybe close the gap between you and pull him in for a kiss. Not because you feel bad for him, for his past. But because you feel warmth when you're close to him.
You feel like he could hold the world above your head and fight for you.
That was when his phone started ringing. John killed that kid out of revenge.
~~
You finally meet Sam's sister, Sarah, after he invites you and Bucky home to help him fix his boat. A lot of their neighbors are also helping. There's a gathering with food and drinks by the lake, and every kid is excited to see the soldier. They're all lining up to hang up on his metal arm.
You're watching in the distance as he and Sarah chat about something, while two kids hang themselves on his limb. He seems lighter, happy even.
He has a different look on his face. Especially after Sam finally decided to become who he was supposed to be.
Bucky walks toward you holding two cans of beer in his hand. "You want one?"
He holds one out for you, and you accept it.
"The kids love you, you know?" You speak after sipping on your drink.
"What can I say? I'm pretty charming" He leans against the wall next to you, watching as the sun sets. There's a hue of orange in the sky.
"They only like you because of your arm. Don't get too cocky" You shove him by the arm playfully and he holds your hand for leverage.
Bucky pulls you closer to his body, his chest is heaving against yours. He's taller, so he has to look down at you.
"So you don't think I'm charming?" His words are too soft, but his grip on your waist is almost tight.
"I didn't say that" You smirk and he uses his other hand to rub the pad of his thumb on your lower lip.
The moment you felt his skin against yours, it felt like everything slowed down. Even though he was desperate to finally give you the kiss he'd been wishing for, it was obvious he was too nervous.
Sam's words lingered in your head. He was definitely in need of dates and he refused to accept it. Whatever changed his mind made you realize he had a soft spot for you.
That's what made you take the first step. You finally closed the distance and crashed your lips against his. It tasted like beer. The tiniest movement of your tongue had him groaning in the back of his throat and it almost made you smile.
He slid his tongue against yours and tilted his head for better access. He wished he wasn't holding a beer right now because all he wanted to do was cradle your face and pull you in for a deeper kiss.
Your arms wrapped around his neck and Bucky faltered as you grasped his lip between your teeth. Both tongues were fighting for dominance and you shivered.
The fresh taste of beer in your mouth made his heart flutter inside his chest. His heart was racing and pounding against his ribcage and he felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs.
You both had to pull out for air, his hand not leaving your body for a second. Resting your forehead against his, you watched as he kept his eyes closed.
"I'm glad you're happier now. I can see it right through you"
"Someone gave me a nudge. And Sam is a great friend, much to my disappointment" He joked, giving your lips a chaste peck.
"He said some pretty nasty things about you the other day" You laughed as he displayed a surprised look on his face.
"Oh, he's a dead man".
"Hmm, he might be right" You sipped on your beer, watching as Bucky placed a hand on his hip.
"What was it about?" The soldier mirrored you with his beer.
Getting closer to his face, you spoke against his lips. Voice low and teasing "You'll have to find out".
You gasped as he pulled you harder against his body and kissed you again. This time, it had a different impact, he was rough and needy.
A growth beneath you brushed against your body, and you chuckled between the kiss. Bucky had to pull away from you. He lowered his head and shook it.
"I might know what he meant" He barely had time to laugh as you pulled him in for another kiss.
You didn't even have time to tell Sam goodbye. Next thing you know, you were both in his hotel room, filling the air with a lot of passion and moaning.
You woke up the next day with a weight on you. His metal arm was spread above your body.
Jesus, they needed to get blackout curtains in the bedrooms. You slightly opened one of your eyes and peeked through your lashes as you saw Bucky peacefully sleeping close to you.
A smile escaped from your lips at the thought of the previous night.
Happiness crossed your mind when you cradled his face and traced his jawline. He was definitely happy. And hopefully, soon, the nightmares would go away.
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slutforsilverfoxes · 6 months
Text
Imagine…
Starting to make dinner in Aaron’s apartment on a Thursday night. He’s just gone for a shower, washing away his last case and the worst parts of the world that he falls privy to day in and day out as Unit Chief of the BAU.
You’re humming along to your oldies but goodies playlist while sipping a glass of white wine that’s too sweet for Aaron’s liking. As the current song fades out and the familiar notes of a Bee Gees tune start, you realize with a smile just how many of these songs you've compiled make you think of your love.
And, speak of the furthest thing from the devil, suddenly he’s there, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as his body perfectly molds to the dips and curves of your own. He guides you back and forth in a gentle sway, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he releases a deep sigh.
You allow your eyes to drift shut and your head to fall back against Aaron so you can bury your nose in the crook of his neck. "Sauce'll burn," you mumble, letting his familiar smell wash over you and sending warm tingles throughout your body.
"Let it," he responds just as softly. "We'll order something. Need to hold you."
You release a sound of contentment that's half-sigh, half-hum, nuzzling even deeper into him as if you can become one person if you try hard enough. In this moment, there's no yesterday or tomorrow. There's no anticipation of the next phone call that will take your love across the country again. There's no darkness, no fear, no evil lurking around the corner. There's just you and the man you love more than anything else in the world.
You dot gentle kisses along the expanse of his skin that you can reach without moving, and he squeezes you tighter in response. "Marry me," Aaron breathes out on a sigh. "I'll make it more romantic later, I promise. Just tell me you'll be mine forever."
"Oh, my baby," you murmur. "I already am."
—————
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d
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Lake: cbf!soap x reader
The lake water was warm against your skin. Your been in it all day, drinking up the sun and enjoying your time with Johnny. You lost count of how many times he had splashed water on you or threw you into the lake with a mischievous laugh.
It had been good. You had fun messing around with him, especially when the trip had been overdue, but there were questions burning in your mind.
It was just past five by the time you had decided to dry off. You laid out on your towel on the wooden dock, covering your face from the sun with an extra towel.
“Not asleep are ya?” Johnny wondered softly in case you were.
“No.” You moved the towel and gave him a small smile. “Could be though, I’m tired.”
“I know, it’s great.”
His hair was tousled from drying himself off as he sat down on the dock next to you. His legs hung over the edge and he stared out at the water, a summer breeze taking up the silence.
There was nothing else to do but ask.
“Why do you want to join the military so bad?”
Johnny paused and glanced at you with an uncertain look on his face.
It had been a couple weeks since the two of you had made up and in that time the military had been a topic you both avoided like the plague. The only time it was even discussed was the agreement that he went to Herefordshire every other weekend to visit his cousin.
You didn't have an issue with it...or at least you tried to tell yourself that. You didn't want him to leave you and join the military but you couldn't exactly stop him from doing what he wanted with his life.
Even when it felt like it was without you.
"Ah dinnae ken...it just feels right." He said after a moment of thinking. "It's something I think I'd be good at."
"But you're good at a lot of things." You sat up. "Math, science. You're also the best artist I know-"
Johnny shook his head and though there was a smile on his face, his eyes were filled with worry. He turned away from you as if to hide from you and he pick up a twig on the dock to through it in the water.
"I cannae see myself in uni doing any of that. The military is where I see myself."
You frowned and felt your chest tighten. You should know better than to try to convince him otherwise, once he set his mind on something that was it.
Maybe he was right, maybe he'd end up climbing the ranks and becoming one of the best. You didn't doubt it, he was good at everything he did and considering how fast of a learner he was, he'd be there in little time.
But it was the fact that he had forgotten all about you. It was like he was so willing to get away from his hometown, from you that it was hard to believe that he didn't have some ill feelings toward you.
It was all you could think of: "Why do you want to leave so bad?" "Why do you want to leave me?"
You sat down beside him to have some sort of closeness with him and looked out at the water that reflected back the golden rays of the sun.
"Well don't forget me when you're some military hero." You tried to joke but it didn't come out all too happy and John seemed almost offended by it.
"I couldn't forget you, I wouldn't." He stated firmly but you said nothing. "I'll come back any chance I get."
His eyes looked desperate and angry. Almost as if he were trying to convince himself more than you because you already knew he could forget you and that the chances of him coming back were slim.
It was inevitable and maybe that's what made it true.
"I was just curious." You shrugged and looked away from him, the pain in your chest too unbearable when you looked at him. "You're too young to join right now anyway."
"Even though I'm ready."
You scoffed and shook your head.
In two years they'd let him join. And in two years you'd lose him.
A/n: haha angst feel free to send asks if you want more fluff or something because all that's on my mind is angst for this series lol
tag: @elysian0612
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bippot · 5 months
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Summary: Working with his wife usually comes easy to Spencer but when a woman identical to her is found dead, it becomes a little bit harder to deal with. Especially when she's determined to find the guy by whatever means she has at her disposal.
Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here
Additional Tags: Married Couple, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Serial Killers, Canon-Typical Violence, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Brief weight gain mention, Pregnancy, Reader is a Member of the BAU (Criminal Minds), Protectiveness, Angst with a Happy Ending
In all her time of knowing him, Y/N had never seen Spencer be rageful. He was annoyed by small minded cops constantly. Any case that had anything to do with kids caused everyone to be on edge. And he had a sore spot whenever schizophrenia came up in conversation.
He was kind and gentle and frequently had a smile on his face whenever she needed a friendly face, but Y/N knew that deep down, there was a sadness lurking in his soul. He was a lonely man at his core so she tried her very best to make sure she always was there to listen whenever he wanted to rant and tell her facts and vomit word soup out in the open.
Sure, the fact that he was cute was a factor in Y/N's interest in her coworker's words. But it was his genuine need to use that big ol' brain of his to help other people out that really captured her attention. He had a big heart to go along with his big brain, that's why he was so special.
And why she fell in love with him.
"Sorry, one of the officers cornered me and forced me to endure a way too long conversation about bitcoin and now your coffee is getting cold," Y/N announced as she placed Spencer's drink on the desk in front of him. He immediately pulled his focus away from the papers he'd been staring at and shifted it to his wife, causing his entire being to go from slouching down in his chair to perking up in attention.
"How did you get away?" he asked her with a gleam in his eye.
Y/N sat down on the edge of the desk and shrugged. "His shift ended," she answered with a chuckle, taking a sip from her coffee and holding back a wince at how bitter it was.
Whilst she was making it, she had been faced with a decision - use up all the remaining sugar on Spencer's cup so he has it the way he likes or share the sugar between them both and have the one coffee she allowed herself to indulge in per day to taste better. Luckily, he didn't see her distaste for her coffee, or if did, he didn't mention it.
But she did notice when he made a face that she'd seen far too many times. His brows furrowed and crinkled his forehead. Y/N's hand brushed the back of his shoulder tenderly. "Migraine?"
"Just a headache right now."
"Do you want me to go get you anything?"
"No, no, I'm okay," he waved her off. "I'll be fine."
Bullshit. She knew him well enough to know that he was in more distress than he wanted to admit. She jumped off the desk, gave him a scratch right on the crown of his head, and moved to find her bag, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for with a satisfied, "Ah-ha!" Whatever Y/N had found was being shoved in Spencer's direction. He took it without looking, knowing exactly what it was from the crinkle and soft jingling sound that accompanied it, and popped the magnesium out of the packet and tipped a vitamin B gummy from the pot.
"Thank you, honey."
"It's my job to make sure my husband's brain doesn't explode," Y/N told him as he threw the gummy in his mouth. "You're welcome."
"I certainly am," Spencer replied with a cheeky grin, before taking a large gulp of his coffee. His wife rolled her eyes but couldn't resist smiling back.
By the time Y/N had finished her coffee, Hotch was calling for everyone to gather because there had been bodies found. The squad listened as Garcia gave them the update. Four bodies had been found, all of whom had very similar features. As he was watching the photos of the dead women pop up on the screen, Spencer's hand made it to his wife's back, curling her shirt into his fist. Y/N didn't seem to react. Not even when all of the team had looked at her as soon as they realised too.
The victim they'd deduced had been the first of this serial killer was a doppelganger of Y/N. The others looked similar but the first was almost identical to her. Same hair colour, same nose, same eyes, same smirk. There were a few obvious differences due to styling and body weight distribution but they could be sisters. Twins even. Well, at least Y/N knew what she'd look like after being strangled to death and dumped in a mass grave in the middle of nowhere. She never had wanted to know that. Now she did.
Whatever morbid curiosity she had, it had never got that detailed. Hotch knew that Y/N would be able to deal with this. However, he had no idea if Spencer would be. Judging by Reid's clenched jaw and the mortified look in his eyes, he wasn't dealing with being presented with an image of someone who looked like his wife dead in a ditch very well.
"I'll point out the elephant in the room," Y/N began before anyone could say it out loud. She gestured in the general direction of her face. "We could use this to our advantage."
Yeah, she'd been a decoy before and was prepared to do so again. Her situation was slightly different now though.
Spencer's head whipped up. A thousand million zillion alarm bells went off in his head, which was not very pleasant mixed with his headache. "Y/N..." he warned, his voice low and shaky.
"It's an option. That's all I'm saying."
"We'll try a more traditional approach at first, but it may be beneficial for us to keep Y/N out of the public eye just in case we need to go down that route," Hotch stated, which was met with some relief. Not much. Some. He turned fully towards Spencer. "Is that agreeable?"
Humming his agreement - though it didn't sound all that enthusiastic - Spencer was mostly quiet during their discussion about the unsub. The usual points were hit. The unsub is anti-social. He won’t look anyone in the eye. He’s not confident. He's a white male in the 30-45 range. He probably doesn't like his mummy. Spencer spoke up when he thought he had new insight that nobody else had brought up yet, but as soon as Hotch told everyone to get some sleep for the night, Spencer got the hell out of there.
Derek sighed. "Want me to cool him down?" He offered, bumping her in the shoulder with his own. Y/N shook her head and gave him a bump back.
"I will power through the silent treatment,"she told him, and he gave her a few seconds to change her mind before chuckling and stepping away.
Back in their hotel room, Spencer was in the shower when Y/N got back. He'd had a five minute head start and was not wasting that precious time, it seemed.
Officially, the FBI booked two rooms for the married couple as agents have their own rooms instead of sharing most of the time - unless the hotel is fully booked or they're in a romance novel and need to huddle for warmth - so whenever the squad touch down in a new city and settle in, there's a guarantee that one of the Reid's rooms are abandoned. It was a waste of company money.
Working together whilst married had been a weird thing in the beginning. There was a review of how effective Y/N and Reid were by the unit chief when they first declared themselves as a couple to HR, and then another conducted after their wedding. It was decided that there weren't any glaring problems with the two working together - they weren't half as flirty as Morgan and Garcia so maybe that helped them out a bit - so they were allowed to stay in the same unit. That report had said that Agent L/N's reckless nature often conflicted with Dr Reid's anxiousness. Which had been true enough. Sometimes those traits worked well together. Other times...
A pin drop could be heard as the couple got ready for bed. Y/N climbed into her side of the bed and Spencer into his. The room was dark and quiet, and in that silence, Spencer could hear the sound of his heart and that drum beat of terror, and it was almost as loud as a thunderstorm. Could she hear it too? Or was he just afraid that she could?.Both sat with their backs against the headboard, Y/N read her book quietly while Spencer stared into space and tried his best to ignore his wife. The silence stretched on and on, until finally, Spencer felt a hand on the back of his head and fingers softly stroking through his hair. He let out a sigh of relief.
Instantly, the drum in his head stopped. He pressed himself into her side, morphing his body to fit the contours of hers, and - without losing her spot on the page - she let her head tip downwards to give him a kiss on the crown of his head. It was a soft, brief peck and Spencer felt himself yearn for more. "Pay attention to me?" He whined.
An amused huff came from her nose and she placed her book on the bedside table so both hands were free to lavish him with so much petting and loving caresses that he began purring like a cat in no time.
"Better?"
"Much," he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers tracing patterns along his temples, his nose, his cheekbones. Her fingers moved to his chin and tilted it so she could give him a smooch, and Spencer thought he would melt at the pure sweetness of her lips on his.
"I love you," he said, and it felt so natural to say it. It felt so right.
"I know," she replied, sounding just as serious. "I love you too."
Spencer felt a shift in the atmosphere as the tension that had been there evaporated, leaving them to cuddle together and enjoy the rest of the night in each other's arms. Though the issue hadn't been solved, that was okay right now. They'd deal with that tomorrow or whenever it had to be dealt with. Not right now. Not before bed. They'd never gone to bed angry at each other and they weren't going to start today.
Despite seeing her dead doppelganger, Y/N fell asleep pretty quickly. Her husband was so warm at her side and the hotel pillow was so fluffy and comfortable that she was out like a light in no time. Spencer lay awake for a long time, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his thoughts racing as he traced a line from one of her hips to the other and back again over and over again, feeling the pouch of her stomach with the very tip of his finger, and his chest was tight with worry.
He didn't know why his mind kept going back to that photograph. Why would his brain choose to relive that? Did he want to torture himself that badly? Maybe if he stayed awake he would be able to protect her from anyone who even thought about hurting her. He'd catch this killer if it was the last thing he ever did.
"I can hear you thinking." His wife's sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts and Spencer let out a small groan. How long he'd been unravelling in his own brain, he had no idea, yet it was long enough for the hoarseness that she usually got after a nap to enter her voice. "Go to sleep, baby," she said. "You're going to be exhausted tomorrow."
"Can't."
"You can."
Y/N pulled his body so that he was fully on top of her and wrapped her arms around him. Spencer felt her start to move her hand up and down his spine in a gentle rhythm and her other hand cupped the back of his head, holding him close as she slowly rocked them side to side. She began to hum a tune, cradling him almost like he was a 6'2" big baby, and let him relax in her arms. It worked. It always did. Within minutes, he was snoring into her shoulder. He did that thing that men do when they suddenly spasm for no apparent reason because their body can't believe it's finally getting some down time, but eventually it evened out.
Once the early morning arrived, Y/N was beginning to stir. She awoke to the soft gentle presses of her husband's lips against the skin of her stomach, his head lifting up the bottom of her sleep shirt to plant a kiss on her belly. For the past month or so, she'd often woken up to him mumbling a hushed conversation to her abdomen. She'd pretended not to hear it and let him continue for as long as he wanted to, thoroughly enjoying his affection and the way it would send a shiver of pleasure straight through her body. And today was no different.
Only when it became clear that he wasn't planning on getting up anytime soon did she begin to move and acknowledge the fact that she was actually awake and aware. Massaging his shoulders, she cooed, "Morning handsome," and he mumbled something unintelligible as he buried his face in her stomach again, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.
Reid was not a morning person. Not in the slightest. Y/N had learned very early on that the best way to force him to get up in the morning was to get herself up and he would mimic her. It usually worked like a charm. But this morning, he'd trapped her legs beneath his body and was keeping her hips pinned to the mattress with his. This man was heavy. He was gangly and lanky and looked like a twig but could feel like a tonne of bricks when he wanted to. And he was trying to keep her pinned down, which meant he wanted something.
"Let me up, you big brute," she teased as she wriggled her hips to try to get away from him. Spencer laughed at her attempt and she gave up the moment his big hands landed on her hips to keep them still. He lifted his head up, the smile on his face making his eyes crinkle.
"Morning beautiful."
"I take it you're not ready to get up for work just yet?" He shook his head as he ran his hand up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on hers. "You know we'll have to eventually, right?"
"I do. I also know I'm going to have to be pretty convincing to get you to stay." He pressed a kiss to her navel. "But."
One more kiss placed just under the previous one on her abdomen. "I am."
Another on her pelvis. "Willing."
Two more, one on each thigh, his palms pushing her legs apart to give him more space to settle in the gap. "To. Be."
Finally, he let his lips fall to her underwear-covered pubic bone in the barest whisper of a kiss, one that set off a small firestorm of desire that shot straight to her core. "Very, very convincing."
At the beginning of their relationship, they'd come up with the rule that they wouldn't give in to their desire whilst on the job. When they first got together, that was mostly a way to make them seem as unsuspecting as possible. Their coworkers were profilers for god sake! Even the slightest smudge of her lipstick on the corner of his mouth and Derek would be giving Spencer a patronising clap on the back and a "My man."
Now it was out in the open, it was mainly a professional courtesy. It would look awful if two FBI agents comforted a grieving family with mussed hair and incorrectly buttoned shirts. There were exceptions, though. And why not? They had plenty of time before they were expected to show up at work. They were in the privacy of their hotel room with the nearest member of their team (Emily) six rooms away. The rule could be morphed into a suggestion, and it's easier to ignore suggestions.
"Can I convince you?" He let his lips curl upwards at the corners as he gave her a kiss over her underwear with an exaggerated 'mwah'. He added on a desperate sigh of "Please?" to seal the deal.
"You can try."
"Well then, lie back and enjoy yourself, Mrs Reid," he responded cheekily, pulling her underwear down her thighs and off in the general direction of her suitcase that sat by the dresser.
With that, he got to it. He started by licking and nipping at the inside of her thighs, making sure to get up higher with each bite until his lips touched her clit and he flicked it with his tongue. Her head fell back as she arched into his mouth, giving him better access to do whatever the hell he wanted to her. His hands cupped her butt, keeping her pressed up against his mouth as he worked her into a frenzy.
"Mrs Reid, you are so beautiful."
Her eyes fluttered shut as she let herself go. The pressure of his mouth, his hands, his stubble. Her man could make her come in no time at all. The more he gave her, the more she wanted. And the more she wanted, the more he gave her. It was a lovely cycle that gave them both what they wanted.
The slow slide of his fingers moved under her shirt and up to her bare breasts. He teased her nipples into hard points, his touch sure and demanding, and just was needed to make her moan out his name. "Spencer, oh god, Spence."
Thanks to one particularly forceful suck on her clit, Y/N was grabbing at Spencer's curls, trying to hold him to her while he drove her towards the edge. But it wasn't enough just yet.
"Fingers too, baby."
"Where are your manners, honey?"
"Jesus fucking christ, are you serious?" She huffed and had planned to fully argue some more but gave up almost immediately. "Fine! Please finger me, my loving husband."
"That is more like it."
He kept his eyes locked on hers as he used two fingers to part her folds and slip them inside of her. She was wet and ready for him, and he made quick work of finding her G-spot, mumbling a little "Ah, there it is," when she got a smidge louder. He curled his fingers at the same pace as his tongue swirled around her clit. It was a rough and slow rhythm that made her writhe and squirm.
"Can feel these legs shaking. You close, pretty girl? You want me to keep going, don't you?"
"Uh-huh, keep going."
"Tell me. Say it. Say it all pretty like you always do."
So, she did. Her voice was all breathy and whiny as she got out the words he wanted to hear. "You're so good, gonna cum, gonna cum. So good to me."
Y/N felt her orgasm catch up with her, her muscles tensing up as she was taken over by the wave of pleasure. It swept over her in seconds, stealing her breath and leaving her weak in the knees. She dug her nails into Spencer's shoulders, curling her toes into the bed to keep herself grounded as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her.
"Good job, baby," she praised, grinning down at him. "What's next on the agenda this morning?"
Spencer's smile was so goofy - looking as if he drunk off the taste of her, and maybe he was - as he moved himself back up the bed to kiss her neck, his grin making it impossible for the kisses to be anything but a press of teeth against soft skin. He kissed up and up and up until he reached her ear, whispering, "I’m not done with you yet, honey. If you ask me nicely, I'll fuck you so good," against the shell.
Whenever Spencer swore, it was always surprising to her. And when he swore like that, it sounded more dirty than if a frequently swearing man had done it. As if his mouth was filled with those words but had been pushing them down and down - they'd been sitting there for a while, just brewing - and in the wait, had grown a mind of their own.
"C'mon, Spence, get your cock out and put it in me already. I wanna feel you, please?" she asked, exaggerating the 'please' so he couldn't call her rude again.
"Yeah, you want more?" he teased, squeezing her ass in his big palm.
"Damn right, I do."
"I'll get right to it then, my pretty baby."
As he nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing the skin there, let her head fall back on the pillow, let out a giggle when he bit at her jaw and pushed his head away, laughing even harder when he tried to playfully bite her fingers.
"Weirdo."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you're married to me so that makes you Mrs Weirdo by default. You signed yourself up for all this, honey."
Tugging his boxers down, she gave him a light a slap on the ass, the sound of smack loud in the quiet of the room. "Married you just for the marital tax deduction," she joked, but she couldn't help but mischievously grin so he absolutely knew she was just messing around. Obviously she told him that she loved him lots yet he still struggled to comprehend that some days. So, she made sure whenever she teased him that he was fully aware that she didn't mean it.
"And I married you because I love you," he responded, far more sincerely than she had thought he would've, and positioned himself at her entrance, his cock jutting up against her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deep. "And I love making you feel good."
The slow, teasing pace of their foreplay was broken by his sudden, hard thrust as he entered her. It was so intense, and the way he held her hips pressed against his, grinding into her and pinning her to the bed with his weight, was so possessive and so deliberate that it left her breathless.
At first, it always took a moment - just a small one - where he rested his forehead on her shoulder and let them both adjust to the feeling of him inside her. But then, he was never one to rush, and he'd make sure they both felt entirely comfortable. And once they were, his hand gripped her ass cheek, and he pumped into her in a slow, steady rhythm. "I love fucking you, Y/N," he murmured, the words thick with feeling. "So goddamn perfect, you. I'm never letting you go."
It was a line he'd used on her a lot. I'm never letting you go. You are my world. My universe. My life. And I am yours, and you are mine. They were such simple statements but they said exactly what they needed to. Because she knew they were true.
Y/N wrapped her arms around his back, curling her body against his as he began to move, his thrusts getting more frantic and his kisses more desperate. Her fingernails dug into his back, and she arched her back in a desperate attempt to bring him closer, to feel him even deeper, to feel him harder. His breath was harsh, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling them closer to her chest as he fucked her.
"I love you so much, Y/N. You're my everything. You're my... my..." he trailed off, hitting a hard thrust into her. " You're my life. I can't believe I get to wake up every morning next to you. Let's quit our jobs and stay in bed forever, you and me. Just you and me. Don't you want that? Don't you want that more than anything?"
One thing is for certain, he'd go mad if he had no cases to figure out like a sinister rubix cube. But Y/N, well, she'd often thought about what her life would be like if she left the BAU behind. Profiling was in the very fabric of Spencer's DNA, and without his cases, he'd be lost.
"Forever in bed with you, baby? I'll take it."
"Uh-huh, you take it, honey," he mumbled into her skin, his hips hitting a spot that sent a shockwave of delight through her core. "You take it so good."
A whimper escaped her lips as he increased his tempo, his hips slamming against her in a way that made her feel cherished, like she was his only source of joy in their hectic, difficult life. Y/N arched her back, her orgasm building, her body tensing, every muscle tightening in anticipation. They were both so close, so desperate for each other, that Spencer used his one hand to keep his wife's ankle over his shoulder and the other was pushing her thigh as far open as her flexibility allowed to get as deep as he physically could inside of her. "Baby, I'm going to..." he managed to say, his voice strained, his breathing heavy.
Then, with a final thrust, he came. Not just the usual orgasmic feeling that came with a good fuck, but a burst of energy so strong it knocked the breath out of her and sent her tumbling over the edge of pleasure, falling into a blissful, fucked out headspace for the next however many minutes.
Spencer collapsed on top of her, every muscle in his body tingling. "That was..." he couldn't even believe it. "So good. I'm not sure I'll ever top that." He laughed, a full-body, carefree sound that was the best thing she'd ever heard. Y/N laughed, too, watching as he rolled off of her and onto his back, his hair falling in a ruffled, sexy mess around his face. It was impossible to resist running her fingers through his hair, the feeling of his thick, curly locks against her hand so comforting, so calming.
"We should shower."
"I thought you wanted to quit our jobs and stay in bed forever?" Y/N parroted his words back to him, rolling onto her side to face him.
"We smell of sex." He got out of bed and held his hands out to his wife to help her to her feet. "Come on, stinky."
By the time they were showered and dressed, none of their coworkers would know how Spencer had made her go briefly brain dead that very morning.
This case wasn't solved on their first visit. The unsub had either been tipped off or was closely following the investigation and went dormant for enough time that Hotch moved them on, which wasn't an unusual thing to happen. It was annoying, though.
There was some guy out there whose perfect victim was Y/N. Even as they got on with their lives and solved other cases, that fact remained in the back of Spencer's head. He couldn't forget it - mostly because he doesn't forget anything - but he knew that if he hadn't been born with this gift, that it would be the same. With this guy still out in the world, Y/N was in danger every time she went out in public. It was hard to breathe while he was thinking about that.
Two months later, the unsub killed again and the team was brought back. This time Spencer was determined to find him.
The same officer who'd lectured her about bitcoin once again cornered Y/N, but this time, she had her husband by her side. Previously, he'd been a little pushy but once Y/N had told him that she was in a relationship, he backed off. Now, he greeted her with, "I remember you being slimmer."
What? Did he think that was an acceptable way to say hello?
"Funny, I have an eidetic memory - that means I remember just about anything I deem important - and I don't remember you. Weird," Spencer shot back, his tone icy.
Instantly, the officer's jaw dropped. "I, um, I just - "
"We've been on the jet for the past few hours, mind giving us some space?" Spencer suggested and the officer flushed a bright red, backing off immediately. Y/N caught Spencer's eye and gave him a quick squeeze on the bicep to say thanks, and was rewarded with a wink that was far too flirty for a work environment.
Garcia gave them another rundown of the case, briefly going over what they had before and adding the new revelations at the end. The killer had fucked up. The most recent victim had bite marks on her shoulder so they had a very good insight at what the killer's teeth looked like. Whoever he was, he was missing his top canines and if they were to look into his mouth, there would be an obvious gap.
Part way through Garcia's rundown Spencer very subtly reached into his pocket, pulled out a granola bar and slid it towards his wife. She ate it with a smug little smile on her face.
"That's new," Emily pointed out. "There was no bite mark at the last crime scene."
"Biting as a form of attack is usually used as an act of self defence," Derek added.
Hotch let out a gruff noise, one that was toneless and no indicator of whether he thought that was a correct assumption or not. He had a talent for that - bland, unemotional responses that encourages more discussion without leaning the conversation one way or the other.
"That would only make sense if the marks were inflicted perimortem or pre-mortem, but judging by the lack of redness and blood splatter around the puncture of the skin, this bite was done post mortem," Spencer explained, gesturing with the tip of his pen at the area around the teeth marks.
"This guy has escalated to biting his victim's after he's killed them, why?" Y/N posed the question once she'd finished chewing and the room was silent for a second before Rossi spoke up.
"A killer I interviewed back in the early 90's did the same thing. For him, he believed he was absorbing the life essences from his victims, he was consuming what little of them remained when he bit them."
Emily let out a bitter scoff. "Even after taking their lives, it's still not enough for this guy. He needs to annihilate what's left of their soul."
"Maybe he thinks he's collecting souls for the afterlife like how Zodiac believed his victim's would become his slaves once he passed on?" Y/N thought out loud and the room went still, all of them thinking it simultaneously.
"Whatever the case, the guy is a freak," Derek stated, and they all nodded in agreement because yeah. He was a freak.
Just before they'd gone off into their own research teams, Hotch called put, "Y/N, would you mind holding back a few minutes? I need to speak with you," and although she knew she hadn't done anything to warrant a stern talking to, it still felt like being sent to the principal's office.
"I'll catch up with you in a sec, Spence."
Closing the door once Spencer was on the other side, Hotch sighed. "I know what your answer will be but I feel obligated to ask, do you want to give this one a miss?"
Y/N looked over at him and the corners of her mouth turned up just a little. "You think I'm going soft, Aaron?" She teased, and he grinned at her.
"I know Reid's been giving you an earful."
"He always does."
Something that sounded like a chuckle came from Hotch's throat but it died before it could fully form as his eyes caught the opened case file on the desk, the photo of Y/N's dead doppelganger paperclipped in the corner of the page. "And if we run out of options?"
"As long as you can guarantee that I can blame everything on you so Spencer doesn't stay mad at me for the next year, I'm still up for being a decoy," she clarified. "We've got to catch this guy."
"I will take the blame."
"You better."
Eventually, they found everything about the guy. Garcia cross referenced this with that and then that with this to find out the guy's name was Leyton Hart, his father died when he was young and his mother was an addict who he was still living with despite the fact he was raised mostly by his next door neighbour, a young girl that was only a few years older than him. This neighbour, who they became aware was once called Isla Wiley, was the first victim. She was Y/N's doppelganger.
Infuriatingly, the only thing they couldn't find was where the hell he was now. He wasn't at home, nor at the smart car customer help desk he worked at. They checked his credit cards, they tried calling his cell, they checked with his boss and his mum, nothing.
"You think he's left the area?" Derek asked.
"It's not impossible," Emily replied. "He went dormant for months once we'd caught his scent, he may be prepared to do it again."
Spencer began, "If we could draw him out -" and stopped as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Ignore that."
Rossi could see the silent conversation Y/N and Hotch were having and decided that he'd be the bad guy in this scenario to save both of them from doing it. "No, that could work, Reid. And we have an asset to do so," David announced, readying himself for whatever was about to happen to happen.
"Y/N is not an asset, she is a person! And we can't risk a member of our team in the hopes of catching this guy! Her being on this case is risky enough as it is!"
Reid's chest was rising and falling faster as he tried to keep his temper in check. His vision was getting more red by the second. His fingers were drumming against the table. The blood was rushing to his ears. He felt sick.
"We are not risking my wife's safety to catch this guy!"
Y/N rested her hand over Spencer's, her middle finger tracing over his wedding ring. "This could be our best shot," she said quietly, and he knew at that exact moment that the subject had been brought up with her beforehand and she hadn't mentioned it to him.
He felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.
"I don't care!"
"Spencer," Y/N said sternly, her tone made it very clear she was warning him to stop and think about this before he said something he couldn't take back. She squeezed his fingers gently, her thumb rubbing along his knuckles before he whipped his hand away.
"God, I can't believe you're putting this before everything else."
"We could save a bunch more women. Think of the families, Spencer. We have a chance to give them some peace."
"What about my family? Do you really think I'm going to just -" He was shaking his head as he spoke, trying his best to find a way to reason with her, to convince her to stop. He knew he was failing. And because he was failing, he decided to take himself out of the situation before he said something drastic and lost his job. "You know what, good luck, honey. I'll be waiting for you if you come home."
And he walked out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him. Y/N rubbed at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths and letting out a groan. "Well, that went spectacularly," she mumbled, then rubbed her neck as she looked over at Hotch. "Sorry about that."
"He'll come around," Morgan said.
Prentiss agreed. "Eventually."
"If I had to guess, putting this bozo behind bars will speed that process up." Rossi reached across the desk and patted Y/N affectionately on the hand. "Trust me, I've been married enough times by now to know."
Raising an eyebrow, Hotch posed the question 'Are you still on board with this?' with just his face and only confirmed, "Let's start planning," when she nodded.
While the squad figured out the details, Y/N went in search of her husband. They may have differing opinions on what should go down but she still wanted to comfort him and make sure he was okay. She found him in the back seat of their hire car outside eating a sandwich, taking big aggressive bites, and staring off into the parking lot bush in front of the windscreen. He didn't even look up when he heard her open the door and sit in the seat on the other side of the car. He chewed, swallowed, and kept on looking.
Wordlessly, she slid across to the middle seat and let her head fall onto his shoulder. He didn't move, just kept on chewing, his Adam's apple bobbing as it swallowed the last of his food. After a while, he sighed and leaned back in the seat, resting his head on the headrest as he closed his eyes.
"I know you're worried, baby," she said softly, stroking his arm to get a little more of his attention. "But I can do it, and I will. I don't need you to protect me but I'm very touched that you did. Thank you for looking out for me."
"You're welcome," he replied bitterly. "I'd say you're all set to go then, yeah?"
"Babe..."
She smiled sadly, cradling his head in her palm. He'd been through a lot in his life, she knew that. She'd been there for a lot of it. A lot had gone on back when they were just pals. And even more had happened now they were something different. Going off the basis of his experiences, his concern was fully warranted.
"I'm so selfish. I care about you and I love you and I don't want anyone to touch a hair on your head. This guy... this guy shouldn't get to breathe the same air you do after what he's done." He opened his eyes and finally focused on her, the light of the setting sun illuminating his face in such a way that it made him look like a sad angel. "I can't lose you too, baby."
"If I don't, more women will die."
"If you die, my entire world ends," he choked out, his entire face contorted with misery. "It would be like the sun went out. As if I was a pontifex and my Goddess had been suddenly ripped from my hands, and there was nothing I could do about it."
Obviously, she couldn't guarantee her survival. They both knew that. Y/N closed her eyes and held her breath, trying not to cry as she felt him grip on her jacket, digging his fingers into her elbow as if to anchor her there. She couldn't bring herself to say anything though. She could hear the anguish in his voice, the horror of it, and it was all her fault for being born with the face she had.
The hand on her elbow moved down to find her hip as he pulled her closer into him, resting on her stomach when he was satisfied with the lack of space between them. She rested her head against his shoulder and let herself feel his pain.
"We'll get him," she whispered. "We'll catch this bastard. And we'll get through this."
Tilting her chin up, she caught his lips with hers in a gentle kiss and held on for just a moment before pulling back. "You had a club sandwich," she pointed out playfully, tasting what was left on his lips and feeling her smile broaden. "Making me kinda hungry."
"Let's go get you some lunch."
Before she had comprehended what he said, he was getting out and moving into the driver's seat. They left to get some food - getting in an order for what everyone else on the team wanted whilst they were there - and smoothed out their emotional spikes to settle into a more stable state to prepare for later on.
Then later came. Y/N had been dressed up in an outfit similar to one that Isla had been photographed in - a stripy shirt, denim dungaree and espadrilles - and told to phone the customer service desk for the smart car they'd given her for breakdown help. Once Leyton Hart, who'd managed to reroute the calls that were supposed to go to his work computer to his personal cell, had confirmed that he was on his way to the secluded patch of road Y/N had 'broken down' at, it was a waiting game.
Most of the team were not that far away, around 30 yards behind a thicket of trees. Far enough away to not be seen if he wasn't looking too hard and close enough that they'd be able to make it to help Y/N out in a minute if she needed it.
Sitting in the car, Y/N listened to the hum of the radio and let her legs dangle off the seat and out into the opened door, swinging them to the beat until Penelope warned her, "Incoming!" through comms and she stopped immediately. Y/N could feel him coming, sense him even though she couldn't see him just yet. "Here we go," Penny told the others, keeping her voice low and her eyes glued on the road ahead as his pickup truck came into view.
There was no mistaking the man in the truck. Y/N's gut twisted and she tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sight of him as he got out of the truck and strode towards her. She painted a smile on her face, greeting him with a friendly, "Hi, you are a lifesaver! This stupid car just -"
Before she could finish her sentence, he did something they never predicted he'd do and whacked her in the temple with a ratchet wrench. Y/N's body went limp and she slumped into Leyton's waiting arms as her vision went dark.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" was all Spencer could manage to get out of his mouth as he ran forward to reach her before she was placed in the back of the truck. Hotch raced after him and managed to tackle him to the grass before Leyton noticed them, which would compromise Y/N even further.
Spencer's worst fears were becoming a reality. A serial killer just drove off with the love of his life and his boss had prevented him from intervening.
However much time later, Y/N winced herself awake and looked blearily around. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but she knew for sure she was not in a good situation. She had a throbbing headache and her neck was sore from being arched over for what felt like hours. And she was on a very dirty and gross floor with one hand cuffed to a radiator. It was dark, which she thought was probably for the best for her headache, and cold. She was shivering as she tried to blink the blurriness out of her eyes and get her bearings.
For now, she was alone.
There was no telling how long she'd been out for. Minutes? Hours? A couple of them? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was alive and that she had to get out of here..Grimacing against the pain, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself to a sitting position. The world tilted a bit and she grabbed the edge of the nearest wall to steady herself. The cuffs cut into her wrists and her ankles were getting achy. Overall, it wasn't a great time.
Then, the sound of a key in a lock and the door to the warehouse creaked open, light from the outside glinting dully off the metal floor. "Hello Isla," a deep voice said. "Didn't expect you to be awake."
Going along with this fantasy of his would probably be best. That would give the team time to find them. If there was one thing Penelope was good at was finding a needle in a haystack and, by the look of her surroundings, they were a small needle.
Wherever she was, it was so basic that nothing really stuck out. There was only the radiator she was attached to, a sturdy looking wooden chair, and a cardboard box with a children's book on the top. No windows, concrete floor, metal door, and an industrial overhead lamp that Leyton switched on with a flick of his wrist.
"I knew you'd come back to me," Leyton said, a gleam in his eye. "I knew you would if I gathered enough souls to bargain. You said we could watch cartoons when you came back, can we watch cartoons?"
"Of course we can," Y/N said with a grin. She struggled to ignore the aching in her neck and the twinge in her arms and legs as she spoke. "We can watch whatever you want to watch."
"Whatever?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really."
Leyton smiled, leaned his head in closer to hers, and whispered, "I'm so glad you're back." Y/N shivered and pushed away the sudden urge to puke, not only because his breath wasn't the best but this creep was so close to her face she could see his spit in his mouth. "You know, you're not going to leave me ever again, right?
"I wouldn't dream of it," she said softly.
Like a child, he jumped up and down on the spot. They'd classified this guy as an organised killer, a sophisticated guy that plans his kills and chooses his moments. But his current demeanour had proven otherwise. This guy was someone who had been stunted socially as a young teen and desperately needed this kind of affection and approval. Maybe he'd devolved.
"I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't want to."
"You did what you had to. I understand that," she lied. "You were protecting me."
"Yes! I was! I'm so glad you can see that now!"
Y/N coughed, hiding the way her face fell by itching her cheek with her shoulder as soon as he looked away from her. As soon as he heard her cough, all of a sudden, he scrambled onto the floor and plonked his head down in her lap. "There, there, Isla," he said, stroking her thigh. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry."
Having a serial killer cuddle up to you was weird, to say the least.
"I f-forgive you," she stuttered, before looking down at him with shining eyes and hesitantly reaching her free hand towards his hair. His eyes widened and he leaned further into her hand as he waited for her to touch him. Her fingertips brushed against his thick hair as she caressed the top of his head.
They stayed in that position for more time than Y/N would care to admit.
There was a pang of something in her chest as she watched him nuzzle into her hand and close his eyes as if in bliss. She didn't have time to really feel any sort of pity for Leyton since the metal door suddenly burst open and Spencer came into view, his gun out in front of him.
"Step away," Spencer hissed as he came to a stop in front of her. His face was furious as he cocked his head to the side. "Keep your hands off her."
"But she's mine," Leyton said, a look of innocent bewilderment on his face that soon changed to mindless fury as he pulled himself free of her lap and charged at this random guy pointing a gun at him.
Instead of shooting the killer, Spencer chucked his weapon to the ground and swung at the guy, his fist connecting with Leyton's cheek and then getting another blow to his stomach as he doubled over. Spencer landed punch after punch after punch on the killer's face and body, and Leyton got a few good jabs in before he dropped like a sack of potatoes, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. Yet, Spencer still wasn't done. He was vicious. It was cruel.
And it was the most spiteful thing she'd ever see her husband do.
Derek rushed into the room with Emily hot on his heels. Morgan got Reid by the waist and yanked him away from the fight just as he got another shot in. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away from Leyton, who was coughing and spitting up blood onto the concrete floor. Spencer gave a look of disgust as he stepped away from the twitching Leyton and came to a stop in front of Y/N. His chest heaved as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, slumping to sit in front of her as he dropped to the ground.
"Hi honey," he said, leaning in and touching the bump on her forehead with his index finger. "You're bleeding."
"So are you."
"That was... that was..." He shook his head, not knowing how to describe the fight.
"It was," she replied. "I'm glad you won."
"Me too."
As Derek cuffed Leyton Hart, Emily was searching around for the keys to let Y/N out of her cuffs. The moment she was free, Y/N flung herself into her husband's arms and buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "You didn't sleep," she commented, seeing the heavy bags under his eyes and noticing how strong the scent of coffee emanating from him was. He always smelt a little like coffee but this was, BANG, right in your face and kind of overwhelming.
"Couldn't."
The floor was a thick layer of grime and old blood covering it so Y/N guided Spencer to stand and pushed him out of the door. In the heat of the moment, he seemed to be fine with all the germs but once his adrenaline depleted itself, he would get very agitated about it. She knew that for certain.
Soon enough, Hotch sorted everything out and after a quick trip to the medic, the couple were allowed to retreat to their hotel room to clean up and rest. On her way past her boss, Hotch stopped her to ask if she was okay, how many days off would she like and, "Who knew Dr Reid could be that - what's the word? - defensive?"
"Leyton Hart put his wife and child on the line, that's a lot to defend, I guess."
"Get some rest, L/N."
"Aye aye, captain."
They got to the hotel room in no time, both in desperate need for a reprieve from other people.
"I'm sorry," Spencer said, his breath hitching as he spoke. "About everything. I just... I couldn't control myself. I don't know what happened."
"This is totally fucked up for me to say but you looked hot - totally scary and intense and, honestly, I could go through my life and be happy if I never saw that side of you again - but, yeah, kinda sexy," Y/N admitted, bending over to start the taps on the bath tub.
"Oh. I, uh, I don't know how to compartmentalise that."
"That's okay. I don't either."
After having a preliminary shower to get most of the dirt off before Y/N got in the bath, she sunk into the warm water, leaning her head back against the tile wall as she closed her eyes and let the stress of the day wash over her. She tried not to disturb Spencer who had decided that it was now his turn to take a shower. He would be scrubbing himself with antibacterial soap for the next few minutes so she could just lay back and listen to the odd sounds her husband would make every now and then as he scoured every inch of his skin with his silicone bath brush that he brought with them wherever they went.
If he was on a deserted island - first off: sand, ew - and he could bring one thing, he'd probably bring that brush. ...Or a flare gun.
When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and knelt on the tiles next to the bathtub, looking at her as she lay there, soaking in the water.
"You okay?"
"Mm-hmm."
"You sure?"
"Yep."
"We need to talk about this, you know?" he retorted, running his hand down the length of her arm and conjoining their hands. He perched his chin on the porcelain. "Did he hurt you?"
"No."
"Did he do anything that might've hurt the baby?"
"Not that I know of. We should make an appointment just to make sure."
Her thumb rubbed against his knuckles, hoping to ease some of the redness from his skin. "Let me kiss it all better, baby," she murmured, letting her lips fall to his bicep. Then to his forearm. The wrist. The palm. Then she turned his hand over so she could press gentle kisses to his busted knuckles. His fingers were long and slender and looked too delicate to hurt - or cause such damage - but they had, and now they were all busted up.
The few punches Leyton managed to get on him were mostly to the face. He had a black eye on the right and a red jaw on the other. Y/N was quick to cover those areas with love. Spencer watched her attentively, a million emotions and reactions dancing across his face as he tried to reconcile all the things he was feeling. But, for now, all he could do was accept whatever affection she thought he was worth.
He leaned forward and gently kissed her, tasting the faintest hint of blood on her lips, then he kissed her again, and again, and again, until she was drowning in the taste of him and had to break apart for a moment to breathe. When they finally came up for air, Y/N guided her husband's head to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder, kissing his temple and running her fingers through his hair. They stayed like that, embracing in the bathroom, until the water grew cold and they moved their embrace to the couch.
Spencer pulled Y/N onto his lap, her knees digging into the crevice between couch cushions on either side of Spencer's hips as she settled in. He started by moving his hands up and down her back but couldn't resist the paternal urge to focus his attention on her stomach. His thumbs caressed the underside of her belly, sliding across the stretch of her bump.
For now, she'd been able to hide her pregnancy with baggier clothes but it was soon going to become apparent what was happening.
"I may have let it slip about little Reid to Hotch."
"Well, you're beginning to show and you've been very vocal about how hungry you always are in the office... I assume he already knew," Spencer reassured him, lightly trailing kisses down the side of Y/N's neck and pausing at her collarbone. "I'm sure he knew before we figured it out."
"I'm sure he did.”
She tilted his chin so he had to look into her eyes, smiling when he did so. "It's going to be okay, you know," she continued, eyes bright. "You're going to be a great dad, and we'll get through this." Spencer didn't respond but his eyes were so bright and full of love that she knew he heard her.
Y/N smiled wider, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned in and pressed her lips to her husband's. It was a long, slow, tender kiss that said everything it needed to.
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jungle-angel · 7 months
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A King's Home Is His Castle (Admiral!Bob Floyd x Reader)
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Summary: You and Bob have worked so hard to build lives for yourselves and for your family and despite what others say, home will always be a special place for you, Bob and your little ones.
Warnings: Misogynistic remarks from a Naval officer, language, Admiral Bob popping off and pulling rank etc.
Tagging: @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @floralfloyd and any other mutuals who have kept me going since day one. Guys, this is for you
Bob couldn't really stand having to go to half of these Navy functions, especially now since the weather was shitty and everyone was coming down with seasonal illnesses. Already he could feel the onset of it, the scratchiness in his throat, the body aches and pains, the swollen nodes in his neck and the achy wetness that had settled in his chest.
The last place Bob had wanted to be was at the Seaport Hotel, his clammy skin pricking with goosebumps under his Navy dress blacks as the snow had begun to fall. In he went, heading to the ballroom where all the other Navymen and women had gathered to celebrate Cyclone's birthday. Good God he felt terrible, just plain sick and terrible.
"Admiral Floyd!" boomed a gravely, deep voice. "Good to see you."
"Admiral Hauser," Bob greeted, shaking his hand. "Likewise."
"How's the family?"
"Never better," Bob said with a smile. "(Y/N) and I are excited, we've got a new little one due in a month."
"Good on ya kid," Admiral Hauser replied. "I'll see if I can bring back a case of cigars from Southeast Asia when my carrier crew ships out for duty."
"Oh that's right," Bob said, suddenly remembering. "You're training with the Royal Thai Navy SEALS aren't you?"
"None other," Admiral Hauser chuckled. "Admiral Nataya said he wants his units in shape for duty and that's what we're gonna do."
Bob and Admiral Hauser shared a few good laughs, but it couldn't do much to suppress the annoying tickle in his throat.
"Jeez Bob, you look like hell," Jake remarked.
"I feel like it," Bob answered, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I think Auggie caught something at school and brought it home."
"Uh oh, speaking of diseases," Jake muttered under his breath. "Here comes one right now."
"Oh God no," Bob whispered.
Sure enough it was, Admiral Terrance Hamilton, the bane of the unit's existence. Bob couldn't stand the prick for the life of him let alone work with him. The shithead had already gone completely grey, the results of self-induced stress and problems that had been of his own creation. A bore to the enth degree, Admiral Hamilton talked excessively of finance, a hobby of his that seemed to overtake his mind, a man unable to understand the outside interests of others. He had profusely made fun of Bob for enjoying books that weren't about hard, cut and dry facts and couldn't stand the fact that Bob and the other Daggers had chosen to send their children to a school where creativity and imagination were the prime focus of the curriculum. Hell, Hamilton had even gone so far as to make lewd and rather unseemly jokes about (Y/N) Floyd, Bob's beloved wife and the mother of his children. Bob could practically smell the arrogance radiating off the man as he approached, the self-righteous gleam in his eyes and the stiffness of his perfectly pressed Navy dress blacks.
"Admiral Floyd," Hamilton greeted, shaking Bob's hand.
"Admiral Hamilton," Bob said with a rather curt politeness. "How are you?"
Hamilton replied with only a scoffing chuckle. "How do you think I'm doing?" he questioned. "I've been dealing with a passive aggressive woman who can't seem to wrap her head around what's going on lately."
Bob only nodded and gave him a polite smile. He could feel the cold negativity creeping in under his skin. "Sorry to hear that," was all Bob said.
"Ah, there's nothing that can be done," Hamilton answered with a wave of his hand. "How about the wife?"
"We're uh.....we're getting ready for a new baby in the family," Bob told him. "This is our fourth."
"Hah!" Hamilton laughed. "Must be doing something right if you can keep her full of you."
Bob and Jake cast a glance at each other, scrunching their eyebrows together. "I beg your pardon sir?" Bob asked.
"Can't keep her off you huh?" Hamilton said with a chuckle. "Sweet and demure on the outside but a fiend in the bedroom?"
"Sir I'm sorry but I don't....."
"It's a joke," Hamilton cut in.
"Doesn't seem like a joke to me," Jake said rather coldly.
"Oh c'mon Seresin," Hamilton chuckled. "Laugh a little bit. That's not the worst you've heard I'm sure."
Bob could feel the heat filling his face and something coiling in his chest. The audacity of this man.....the pure, sheer audacity to make those remarks and in public of all places!
"So I hear the boy's in school huh?" Hamilton enquired.
"Yes," Bob answered, swirling the amber whiskey and half melted ice cubes in his glass. "Just started the kindergarten program at the Waldorf school near where we live. The rest of the squad's kids are in his class as well."
"One of those hippie schools I presume," Hamilton said, scoffing a little. "If I had kids I wouldn't pay to have them waste their education on art and music."
Oh now he was getting mad. Bob knew that there was nothing worse in the world than feeling sick and angry all at once. He couldn't tell if it was heat from his sore throat or from the anger that boiled in his blood, but something was about to boil over.
"You said your on what? Your fourth kid too?"
"Yes."
"Jeez," Hamilton sniffed. "I'd have no patience for that, a bunch of kids running around the house screaming, talking back and being undisciplined. And let me guess, your little wifey wants a whole baseball team?"
That was it......that was officially the straw that had broken the camel's back. Jake saw a flash in Bob's eyes as Bob calmly took a sip of his whiskey, never once breaking eye contact with the slimy little twerp.
"Let me tell you something Admiral Hamilton.....Sir," Bob said, sharply emphasizing the last word. "Do you have any idea what family actually means or are you just that blind and ignorant?"
"Sorry?"
"You have no idea what (y/n) and I have been through in our eight years of marriage so far," Bob said icily. "You don't have a clue what we've both given up to be together and to build the lives we have now. In fact I think you might be a little bit jealous."
"Jealous?" Hamilton questioned.
"Yes, jealous," Bob answered sharply. "Because you walked all over the people who have tried to help you, the very same people you deemed to be out to get you because you always thought you were in the right about everything."
"Admiral Floyd, I....I never...." Hamilton chuckled nervously.
"And another thing too," Bob interrupted. "You've always been jealous of what everybody else has. I've heard you, day after day complain about people that are married, have kids or have this or that. Don't think I haven't heard you complain about Lieutenant Avery and her wife celebrating fifteen years together or Lieutenant Parker and his husband finally adopting a kid they've been fighting for, for the last year and a half or even Admiral Seresin and his wife, Rachel, celebrating their own wedding anniversary."
Admiral Hamilton simply froze, a dead look in his eyes and unable to speak.
"One more thing," Bob said, the heated hardness in his tone becoming obvious. "If I ever and I mean ever.......catch you making unseemly remarks about my wife or any of the other Navy wives every again, I'll make sure that your Navy career is ruined and that your reputation has a huge yellow stain. Hell, that might even be a good nickname for you, now that I think about it. How do you like that Admiral Seresin?
"I'm starting to think that's not such a bad idea," Jake said with a huge, shit-eating grin crawling across his face. "Old Yellow-Stain....it's got a nice ring to it."
He could see that Hamilton was fuming, Bob having hit him right where it hurt the most.
"You think you're better than everybody else don't you?" Hamilton fumed. "If it's one think I can't stand it's privleged little pricks who think they're better than everybody else."
"So you?" Bob questioned, raising his eyebrows.
Hamilton's face began to turn bright red.
"Sorry Admiral," Bob said, his cheeky, lopsided grin forming on his face. "But the only person you're hurting is yourself."
Oh could he feel the anger beginning to radiate from the insulted Admiral, his eyes were like ice, his eyebrows turned down in a scowl that would have a brand new seaman running scared.
"So might I propose a toast," Bob said. "To Admiral Hamilton, the greatest insult to the Navy since Admiral Richmond K. Turner."
It was a split second before Bob flung the remaining whiskey in his glass into Hamilton's face, the slimy gimp's jaw hanging open in shock as the amber liquid ran down his face and dripped onto his dress uniform. Admiral Hamilton huffed and stormed off, leaving the ballroom and the two other higher ranking Admirals in his wake.
"Well that went over like a fart during Christmas Mass," Jake laughed.
Bob laughed but it was interrupted by a bone cracking wet cough.
"Alright," Jake said. "What do you say we stay for the cutting of the cake and then go home?"
Bob grimaced and nodded, trying to take in a breath. They stayed just a little while longer before at last, they were able to jump in Jake's truck and head for home.
The snow was coming down a little bit harder, the plows just having gone by and the heat blasting as music played from Jake's phone in the cupholder.
"Nice pop-off by the way," Jake chuckled.
"That actually felt really good," Bob laughed.
"You got nasty though! I'm proud!" Jake exclaimed.
They laughed the whole way home until Jake pulled in the driveway, the two huge Victorian homes side by side in what was known as "Admiral's Village". Bob gathered his cap and walked along the sidewalk, up the path and onto the front porch where he lived with you and your children. Much to his surprise, the lights were still on inside which meant that the babies would still be awake, more so if school was called off the next day.
He opened the door and headed inside, the house warm and cozy and the smell of a fresh dinner wafting from the kitchen. The scritching of nails on the hardwood floor signaled the arrival of the family dogs, Tank, Bandit and the two newest additions to your family, a little black Scottish terrier that Auggie had named Jock, and a little Pekingese puppy you and Bob had named Dolly after she had been found outside the Dolly Madison house in DC. She was still so tiny, only half the size of Jock and dwarfed in comparison to the others.
Bob gave them all the scritches they could possibly ask for, scooping Dolly up off her stubby little legs and into the curve of his elbow before he made his way into the kitchen.
There you were, just having seated Auggie, Patrick and Diedre at the table, the smell of a warm, freshly roasted chicken out of the oven and resting in the pan on the stove while the smell of your homemade cinnamon spice cake cooling on the counter.
"DADDY!!!!!!" The babies chirped as they practically jumped off their seats at the table.
"Come give me hugs babies!" Bob laughed as Dolly sprang to the floor, leaving him to throw his arms around your children and litter their cheeks with kisses.
"Baba! Baba I want kissy!" Diedre demanded as she tried to push past her brothers.
"C'mere princess," Bob chuckled, scooping her up off her feet and pressing a big, wet kiss to her cheek which made her giggle.
Bob looked over at you in your burgundy colored shawl sweater, He could almost feel the hot flush himself, though it might have been due to the burning clump of mucous in his throat more than anything else.
"There's my handsome king of the castle," you teased as you took each other in your arms.
Bob pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before nuzzling your cheeks. "Sorry sweet cheeks," he said. "I think I'm getting sick."
"I'll say," you remarked, holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "You're warmer than usual. Auggie must've brought something home from school."
"Sorry if I get you sick sweetheart," he apologized.
"Oh Bob c'mon," you assured him. "I teach at that same school and my first graders this year still don't know how to cover their mouths."
Bob laughed a little before the coughing caught him again. You called the babies back into the kitchen to come and get their plates, plating everyone's dinners before you, Bob and the little ones were all seated in the dining room. Once grace was said, the five of you dug right in and went back and forth about how the day and evening's events had gone.
"How was the birthday celebration for Cyclone?" you asked him.
"Well," Bob said before finishing the last bite of asparagus. "Funny you should ask that."
He explained every little bit about what had happened, even the parts that he knew might upset you. Yet despite the awful remarks made by one of the naval commanders, you remained level headed and calm.
"You watch," you chuckled. "He'll say the wrong thing at the wrong time and Hamilton's Navy career will be over."
Once dinner was eaten, you loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, cleaning up and putting away the leftovers for the next day while Bob lit a fire in the living room fireplace. He went away upstairs to switch into something more comfortable, the flannel pjs you had gotten him for Christmas the year before.
You made him a hot green tea, slipping in one of your herb packets for seasonal illnesses and let it steep before handing it off to him. "Mommy! Mommy!" Auggie chirped, bouncing with excitement as he tried to hand you one of the books off the shelf. "Can we read a story?"
"Go right by the fireplace and we'll read a story before bed ok?" you told him. "I've gotta get Daddy settled first."
Auggie giggled and ran off to get nice and warm by the fireplace, all three of the kids having just slipped into their pjs and dragging a blanket and their favorite stuffie down from their bedrooms.
“Chivalry!---why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection---the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant ---Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword.” You read.
You, Bob and the babies were completely engrossed in Ivanhoe, the strange and wonderful tale of a Saxon knight and his adventures during the reign of Richard The Lionheart. He loved the way you read, your voice comforting and soft, like the cozy wool throw blanket he had wrapped himself in. Bob didn't care what anyone said. He loved nights like this, when you and him would gather around the fire with the babies to read to them before bed, losing yourselves in the adventures, fantasy and fun of it all.
It wasn't long before the babies had all fallen asleep with Bob carrying them upstairs, one at a time and not wanting you to hurt yourself since his sister had insisted on no heavy lifting at all. Once they were all asleep, it was just you and him, the two of you on the comfy old sofa in the living room, warming yourselves by the fire and his big, gentle hand rubbing soft circles on your obvious bump.
"Jeez (y/n) he's going nuts," Bob chuckled, feeling the tiny little feet kicking against his palm.
"He knows it's you," you hummed happily, a lazy smile worn on your face as you leaned against Bob and relaxed into his touch.
Bob bent a little lower and pressed a loving kiss to your bump. "I love you my precious boy," he whispered. "You, your momma and your brothers and sister mean everything to me."
You both snuggled close together, letting the troubles of the day run off like rain on a roof. The snow kept falling hard outside, but the warmth and coziness of your home enveloping the two of you fully as you and your husband fell asleep with the fire crackling away through the night. When you woke up the next morning, greeted by the look of pure love on Bob's face, you were both grateful beyond words for each other and the life you had built.
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dotster001 · 2 years
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Protective Charms
Summary: Malleus x gn!reader. After a fight with Malleus, both of you are employing the dirty tricks you know to get the other to talk to you/leave you alone.
CW:Minor angst in the middle,but mostly just silliness with fae lore.
A/N: My folklore major ass couldn't help but think about fae lore, so I wrote this 😂
Malleus had a habit of silently walking next to you, and threading his fingers through yours, without bothering to look.
But you were still mad at him, so….
"Ow! Child of Man!" He whined, pulling his hand away, and rubbing his fingers, a pouty expression taking over his face.
You playfully waved your fingers at him, displaying your lovely new IRON rings.
He halted his walking, and crossed his arms over his chest, his bottom lip protruding a little.
"You are being childish."
"You are being childish," you parroted back in a high pitched voice. "That's what you sound like."
"I do not!"
"I do not!"
"Lilia!!!!" He whined, turning over his shoulders to complain to his retainers and guardian, the latter of which wasn't even trying to hold back his glee.
"Ah, your first fight with your beloved. It's so nice to see you living like a regular student!"
You began to walk away again, and Malleus, once again, attempted to grab your hand, immediately forgetting your iron rings.
"Ow!" He gave you a dark glare, and boomed out, "Y/N L/N, I demand you remove those rings and talk to me."
Now you were pouting, as you found yourself removing your rings against your will. 
But the command was also to talk to him, and by God, if he wanted to talk, you'd talk.
"Alright, Lord Malleus. Let's talk," you growled, startling your boyfriend.
Sebek was about to jump at you for your attitude, but Lilia held him back.
"You promised when we started dating that you would help find a way for me to go back and forth between the worlds, then I find out, that was too hard for you so you just gave up, and never planned to tell me. Then when I bring it up you lash out at me! So yeah! Let's talk!"
The crowd that was gathering around the argument was letting out oohs and gasps.
You expected Malleus to fight back like he did the first time you had this conversation. Instead, he looked to the floor and whispered,
"I'm scared, Y/N. I'm scared of losing you."
You froze. This…was not the answer you were expecting. 
"Mal…"
"The only ways I've seen so far would take you away forever, and I thought if you knew…you'd leave me," his eyes looked uncertain for maybe the first time since you'd known him.
"Mal," you repeated, going to grab his hands. "My boyfriend is one of the most powerful mages in existence. If anyone is able to pull it off, it's him. And I'm willing to wait patiently for that. But you have to communicate with me."
You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and his cheeks turned a shade of pastel pink. 
"I understand. I will discuss my feelings and findings with you from henceforth, my treasure." He said.
"Good," you smiled.
"Will you return the iron ring from whence they came?" He asked hopefully.
"Mmm, I think I'll hold onto them, just in case," you giggled. 
He sighed, and kisses you deeply, before turning you around and holding your arms behind you back.
"Silver! Quick, the rings are in their right pocket! Take them and run!" 
"Mal!"
Silver looked conflicted, while Lilia giggled, and Sebek struggled in his grip.
"That's an order from your king, Silver," Malleus boomed authoritatively, and a shiver went down your spine.
Silver sighed, and gave you an apologetic look as you struggled.
"Sorry, Y/N," he muttered, taking the rings from your pocket, and running away.
"There, all better,"Malleus hummed in your ear. Then he turned you back around and threaded his fingers through yours, and began walking down the hallway.
"I can always buy more," you muttered.
"Y/N L/N, you will never buy anything iron ever again." 
....
Tag list- @stygianoir @shytastemakerthing
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esamastation · 6 months
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Part sixty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.
Ao3 link.
Previous parts: fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty
-
"There, wasn't that so much faster?"
If looks could kill, Tseng's answering glare would've had him six feet under. He doesn't object, though, and Sephiroth grins smugly. He knows might've given the Turk a perfect opportunity to observe his new abilities and that might come back to bite him in the ass, but Sephiroth doesn't care anymore.
He's already fucked everything up! He's killed the protagonist! Maybe! Possibly!
Though true enough, Final Fantasy VII has a weird relationship with mental illness and death and coming back from both, so brain dead is probably nowhere near permanent - but then again, it might be a gateway to who knows what kinds of shenanigans. Especially where Cloud Strife is concerned! The guy was mind controlled left and right, literally swam through the Planet, came out with a major case of broken brain, had someone go into said brain, and recovered! Like. Cultivators could go through some weird stuff too, but that is really something else together!
And the worst thing is, Sephiroth doesn't know how reliant this world is on its protagonists. Back in PIDW, if something happened to Luo Binghe, it might've very well led to Game Over for the rest of them. It definitely would've been Game Over for Shen Qingqiu! Their Protagonist was literally the lynchpin holding everything together. What if Cloud Strife is the same?
And what if Sephiroth's sloppy approach to transmigration this time led to his death?
So, yeah. He doesn't really care about what he reveals. Between accidentally leading to Protagonist's death and becoming the Big Planet-Killing Bad, he's probably got some leeway here. He's already OOC, he already messed stuff up. Who cares!
Plus… Tseng's face was really funny.
Tseng adjusts the front of his suit jacket, giving him the side-eye. "Faster, maybe. Necessary…?" 
"It was very necessary. There's barely a signal at the house!" Sephiroth says innocently and brings out his phone, opening it with a decisive snap. "You can send messages, sure, but to make calls? Besides, you're the one who insisted on tagging along."
Tseng gives him a bitchy face. "I appreciate your accommodation for my wishes, then," he says acerbically. His tone suggests he wouldn't be insisting again.
Sephiroth grins and then turns his attention to his phone. Genesis' number is the third on speed dial, after Mission Office and Angeal.
He answers on the third ring.
"Someone had better be dying," Genesis groans, voice sleep-rough and stretched by a yawn.
Oh, oops, time zones. "Ah, Genesis, did I wake you?" Sephiroth asks, wincing, and turns to walk away from Tseng, following the mountainside and keeping to the clear, where he knows the connection works.
"Sephiroth," Genesis answers, and nothing else. Oh dear, he's really not happy.
Leaning his head back to look at the sky as he walks and hoping he wouldn't be paying for this later, Sephiroth clears his throat. "I'll, uh, just get to the point, shall I? You know about the new injection trials?"
"Yes," and again nothing else. Sephiroth is on very thin ice, it seems.
Walking away from Tseng is more for his peace of mind than anything - he's pretty sure Tseng is wiretapping him somehow. Still, he checks back to make sure there's some distance in between before speaking. 
"There's one candidate that went brain dead," Sephiroth says, and looks away. "I need to know what you know about him."
Genesis is quiet for a long moment before a sigh sounds through the connection, and then there's a sound of bed frame cracking and a heavy breath as Genesis stands up. "Hang on a moment."
Sephiroth waits, biting his lower lip, watching the clouds drift over the forests below.
"Cloud Strife, fourteen years of age, originally from a little town called Nibelheim on the middle continent," Genesis says, accompanied by the sound of papers rustling. "He signed up for the SOLDIER candidate trials a little under a month ago and was pulled into the new project five days ago. He got two injections, both on the same day, and flatlined almost immediately after the second one," Genesis trails away. "They managed to rez him, but by then the oxygen deprivation wreaked havoc on his brain. He'd been on life support in a Mako tank since."
Sephiroth falls to sit on a rocky outcropping sticking out of the mountainside. "Shit."
"Mmhmm," Genesis says. "Hard to say who has it worse, him or the ones who have fallen. You do know that this mess has already led to deaths, right?"
Well, now he's angry. "I know, I know," Sephiroth sighs, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."
"Tch," Genesis answers and there's a sound of papers being thrown. "Madness of the beasts leads to the corruption of good men. I'm guessing Strife has a chance of ending up like you, then?"
"... What?" Sephiroth asks.
"Oh, don't play coy, I'm far too tired," Genesis scoffs. "You got overdosed, flatlined and changed. The injection did something to you, gave you knowledge. Is the same going to happen to Strife? That's why Hojo is dragging it out keeping him alive, but if you think so too…"
Sephiroth clasps a hand over his chin. He hadn't even thought about it. Could it happen? Another transmigration, in style similar to his? PIDW had two transmigrators, but they were very different. Shang Qinghua began as a baby, Shen Qingqiu inherited a full life of an established scum villain.
If Cloud Strife died - which he might've already… does that make him open for transmigration? Who would transmigrate into him? Shang Qinghua was slated to die, just like Shen Qingqiu was, but… Airplane, in a Protagonist? Why would he?
Why had Sephiroth?
"I… don't know," Sephiroth admits. "I can't… deny the possibility."
"Damnation," Genesis sighs. "What should we expect?"
"I have no idea," Sephiroth says and looks up. It could be anyone - or might not even be someone he knows! It could be someone from Earth! 
"Well, that's just great," Genesis sighs. "Do you have any idea when, how, what we should look out for, anything?"
"Um," Sephiroth says and then shakes his head. "I think it might be best if I just come there."
"Oh, wonderful idea! That's just what this situation needs, you giving the scientists new ideas!" Genesis groans, muffled as though against a palm. "Just do me a favour: when you next lose it, feel free to finish Hojo off, alright?"
"I -"
Genesis hangs up on him. 
… Rude.
Sephiroth lowers the phone, eyeing the scenery for a moment. Then he turns to his watchman who's pretending as if he didn't hear everything. "Oh, Tseng?"
"I don't know if i can arrange you a transport to Midgar at this short a notice," the Turk says, very bland and noncommittal. He's absolutely lying.
"Oh, you can't? I must've overestimated you Turks," Sephiroth says and jumps up to his feet, walking back over to him. "Isn't your job getting me back to Midgar as soon as possible?"
"Back to work, and only once we're sure you're not still unstable," Tseng says, wryly, giving him a very dubious look. "Something I'm still not so sure of."
"I had one mental breakdown, and I've been level since, haven't I?" Sephiroth cajoles him. "I promise I won't lose it again. And this will let you observe me more, in a different situation, reacting to stress!"
Tseng doesn't look convinced.
"I'm going to Midgar one way or another. At least like this you'll be in charge."
The Turk shakes his head. "I don't think that's a good enough reason to arrange intercontinental transport on a whim." Tseng says dryly. "If you feel fit for duty, I can certainly arrange some missions for you. Until further notice, you're stationed here."
Sephiroth gives him a look. "I'll fly under my own power if I have to," he threatens.
"Even over the ocean?" Tseng asks sarcastically, but pulls out his phone. "And what's your plan when you get to Midgar - walk up to Professor Hojo and just demand he releases a research specimen to you?"
"You know, that might not be a bad idea. Who knows, he might actually do it," Sephiroth says brightly and then, at Tseng's judgemental look, snorts. "I'm kidding. I'll think of something."
"... Very reassuring," Tseng shakes his head and punches in a number from memory. "You'll owe me, Sephiroth," he promises, putting the phone to his ear. "And don't think I didn't notice that you reacted to the name, rather than the status of this Cloud Strife."
Sephiroth smiles at him sweetly. "You're my favourite Turk, Tseng."
Tseng sighs, and gets him a flight to Midgar.
-
You've heard of Liuber, now get ready for...
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