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#box bottom coffee bags
foodpackaging04 · 1 month
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How Coffee Packaging Affects Its Health and Taste
Preservation of Freshness: Proper coffee packaging can help retain the freshness of the beans, preserving their flavour and aroma.
Protection from External Factors: Packaging acts as a barrier, protecting coffee from moisture, oxygen, light, and other elements that can degrade its quality.
Impact on Health: High-quality packaging materials can help preserve the health benefits of coffee, such as antioxidants and nutrients.
Coffee Bag Suppliers: Choosing reliable coffee bag suppliers ensures that the packaging meets quality standards and retains the coffee's freshness.
Stand Up Pouch Packaging: Stand up pouches are popular for coffee packaging due to their ability to maintain freshness and provide convenience.
Stand Up Pouches Wholesale: Buying stand up pouches wholesale can be cost-effective for coffee producers and roasters.
Box Bottom Coffee Bags:Box bottom coffee bags offer stability and space efficiency, making them ideal for storing and displaying coffee.
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golden1u5t · 25 days
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mirrorball | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.
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"oh- um- here, elle. you can have it." you lowered the mug from your face, passing it to her with a fake smile on your face. you had fixed the last tea bag in the office's kitchen and just as you brung it to your face elle walked in talking about making her a cup of tea, only to see that there was no more. so, like you always do, you offered your cup to her.
"are you sure?" she looked down at the mug and then back at you, biting down on her lip. you shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head, handing the mug to her. "thank you! i owe you!"
elle turned around and walked out of the room, you watched her leave with a smile on your face until you couldn't see her anymore. you sighed and turned around, thinking about how you told yourself that you would stop putting other people before you. it's so hard though, especially when you can't stand the thought of making someone upset.
spencer walked into the kitchen just a few minutes later, immediately noticing the way your shoulders slumped. he glanced over at you as he reached into the cabinet to grab the coffee so he could fix a fresh pot.
"did you get your cup of tea?" he asked as he poured coffee into the filters, putting it into the coffee maker. once he got the maker started, he turned and faced you completely. you glanced up and put a smile on your face as you shook your head.
"no, elle came in wanting some tea but i had already used the last bag so i gave her mine." you shrugged your shoulders and looked down at your hands, you started to pick at the skin around your nails. "it's no problem really."
spencer looks down at you picking at your nails, he wants to reach down and grab your hands to stop you but he decides against. even though he's liked you ever since you stepped foot in the office, he's too shy to make a move. you spare him one last glance before walking out of the kitchen.
+++
spencer get's to work before you, before anyone really, and usually he takes the time to get a head start on his reports but this time is different.
before he went home the day before he stopped by the store to grab you some of your favorite things. pens and a new notepad so that you can doodle when you're bored, two boxes of your favorite tea so that you don't have to share with everyone else for a while, a bag of lollipops to refill the container you emptied by giving everyone else them, and some other things you've mentioned that you liked.
he had everything set up perfectly for when you finally walked into the office, your morning cup of tea in your hands and a smile on your face(which he knew was fake most of the time).
you noticed the basket on your desk and an expression of confusion spread across your face. you set your cup down and looked through the basket, a real smile shining through when you saw all your favorite things.
"did anyone see who left this?" you looked around but everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went back to whatever they were doing. though, you did notice how quickly spencer turned around and how red his face was, you walked over to his desk. "thank you, spence. i- i wasn't expecting it."
"it's no problem, re-really." he refused to look into your eyes but you could see how he got redder every second you stood there. you bit down on your bottom lip and turned on your heels, only getting halfway to your desk before spencer called your name. "would you want- could we- i would like to take you out... on a date. only if you want, of course."
you turned around, barely processing the words that were coming out of his mouth. you never expected spencer reid would be asking you out, in a room full of people nonetheless.
"i would love to."
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voyeurmunson · 1 month
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In honor of 4/20. A lil shotgunning with Eds. Fwb.
18+ hoes warnings: smokin’ that good good 🍃 and ofc smut. Slight degradation
*******
“Never? You’ve never smoked before?” Eddie’s dark eyes widen on you as you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.
“How? How is this possible?” Eddie continues with his dramatics, his jaw practically on the floor at this point.
“It’s not that big of a deal Eddie.” You giggle as you watch his expressions change from confusion to excitement as he jumps up off the couch.
“You wanna? There’s no way I can date a girl who hasn’t smoked. Come on, sweetheart. This is bad for my reputation.” Eddie jokes, making you roll your eyes.
“First, we’re not dating. Second, what reputation is that, Munson?” you tease.
“You know.. my uh- bad boy reputation. My super charming yet slightly mysterious drug dealer reputation?” he winks down at you, his words making you snort out a laugh.
“Oh, you’re mean.” he pouts, crouching down in front of you. “You don’t have to. But it could be fun.” His tone drops suddenly as his ringed fingers begin dancing across your exposed thigh. Your small skirt worn for this exact moment.
“You gonna help me, Eds?” you drop your tone to match his, watching as a slick smile spreads across his pretty face.
“Fuck yeah.” he grins, jumping up to retrieve his little lunch box from his room. He plops down on the couch, opening the metal box to reveal a small bag of weed. You observe him carefully, watching as he picks through the seeds and stems, breaking up the little pieces of green.
His tongue pokes out as he concentrates on filling the small rolling paper perfectly before bringing it to his lips, sealing it tightly. He reaches into his jeans, pulling out his zippo before glancing your way again. “Ready?”
“Almost.” you whisper softly before hiking up your skirt, swiftly moving to straddle his lap. Eddie hums in delight as you place your hands on his shoulder.
“Ready.” you purr, taking your bottom lip in your mouth, biting in gently. You can feel him beneath you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing perfectly against your clit as he pops the joint in between his lips. He inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds before releasing a cloud of smoke into the living room of the trailer.
You expect Eddie to pass it to you next but he draws it back to his lips once again, taking a large hit. His brown eyes land on yours as his free hand gently cups your chin, pulling you closer. You feel his soft lips brush yours and you part them on instinct, allowing him to exhale the smoke into directly into your mouth.
The taste is a familiar one, one you’ve tasted on his tongue so many times. It was stronger now though as you feel the smoke circulating through your lungs. Your eyes shut as you focus on the slight tingling beginning to tickle your brain.
“Baby.. uh- you might wanna let that go.” Eddie’s voice brings you back to reality and you open your eyes to see his head tilted slightly, watching you with curiosity. A warmth spreads across your body as you finally exhale.
“That was a big hit.” he chuckles as he takes another drag. This time you’re the one who leans in, gripping the back of his neck firmly as you press your lips back to his. A soft moan leaves his lips as you shove your tongue into his mouth, smoke escaping around the kiss.
You do your best to inhale but his fingers are now digging into your hips making it hard to focus on anything else. Your brain feels slightly fuzzy as you begin rolling your hips, pressing down onto his crotch, his dick hardening more with every second.
“Need you.” you mumble into his mouth, giggling as he almost tosses you out of his lap in an attempt to reach behind you, snubbing the joint out on the coffee table. Then his lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, roughly pulling your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest.
“Fuck sweetheart, no bra.” Eddie groans, latching onto your nipple immediately.
“Just for you, Eddie.” you coo, allowing your head to fall back, the high making every sensation more intense.
“Mmm, good girl. Such a good girl for me.” he mumbles in between kisses to your hardened nipple. His words of praise have your panties soaked as you speed up, grinding even harder on his lap.
The button of his jeans presses hard against your clit making you let out a needy moan. “Fuck..” Eddie breathes, his hands suddenly gripping even tighter as he locks you in place.
“Right there, baby?”
“Yes, shit.” you whine, feeling the chill of the metal on your clit through the thin material.
“Use me, sweet girl. Want you to cum just like this.” Eddie burns, bringing his forehead to yours. You keep your eyes on him as you begin rolling your hips again, making sure to hit the perfect spot every time. Your hands tangle in his wild curls as you spreads your knees a little more.
Small whimpers and moans pour from your lips as you grind on him, each roll of your hips bringing you closer and closer. Your wet panties leaking through onto his dark jeans.
“Look at you, such a little slut, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes, Eddie.”
“Is my little slut gonna cum for me?”
“Mhmm, so close.”
“There we go, baby. Just like that. Don’t fuckin’ stop.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly, panting heavily as he helps you pick up speed, your wet pussy gliding up and down his clothed cock.
“Want you to cum too..” you whimper, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you bring yourself right to the edge.
His firm hand slaps your ass hard making your head fall forward, letting out a little squeal into his neck.
“Fuck Eddie!”
“Faster baby.” he growls in your ear.
“Wanna cum, cum with me please.” You beg, aching for your sweet release. Wanting more than anything for him to reach it with you.
“Eddie please, I’m gonna- fuuck.” Your hips jerk violently and your teeth sink into his neck as you let go, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
“Sh-shit…” Eddie stammers, his cock twitching suddenly beneath you, making a mess of the inside of his pants. You ride out your high, rutting against him pathetically.
“Holy shit.” He breathes as your hips slowly come to a stop.
“Mmmm… Happy 4/20 Eds.” you sigh as you collapse onto his chest.
He chuckles breathlessly, kissing your temple.
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luveline · 12 days
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coworker James au could i request kne where maybe reader starts her period at work unprepared and bleeds through so James gives her his jumper and she's like wtf but also thank you <33
James worries about you reluctantly until you need his help. Then he’s less begrudging. fem, 1k
“Why are you wearing that?” 
James digs through the office fridge for his oat milk. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m just wondering.” 
“It's cold out. People wear jumpers when it’s cold.” James grabs the oat milk from the deep recesses of the shared fridge and lets his tricep flex as he stands. Does he think you’ll care? No. But he does it anyway, he doesn’t work out for nothing. You probably can’t tell with the jumper, anyhow. 
He’s expecting you to wrinkle your nose or fake a keck. You look at him funny. 
“What’s wrong? You’re poorly,” he says. 
“I’m not poorly, I just want some toast.” 
“There’s no butter,” James says. No point letting you wait by the fridge. 
You nod dispassionately. “Well, that makes sense.” 
“I have a tangerine in my bag.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
You’re definitely poorly. You wander out of the kitchen, James assumes to sit back down at your desk while he makes his coffee. He could make you a cup at the same time, it might help you pep up for the rest of the day, but he hasn’t made you any before and why should he start now? Everyone gets sick, it doesn’t make you less of a dick. 
Even as he thinks it, he realises what he’s doing. James Denial Potter, what use is it anymore, pretending he doesn’t like you? You piss him off royally, but disdain? It’s like everyday you’re getting prettier and sweeter and softer in the eyes and James just has to watch. 
He takes his mug to his desk. You’ve already posed his little Smiski figurines to be standing next to each other, though now you’re nowhere near his desk, instead having flopped toward the left side far from his reach with your face in your hand. 
He sighs and grabs his back. The tangerine lays at the bottom near his lunch box, and it begs to be kept, but you’re looking too sick to ignore. It’s cruel to leave you without, at this point. “Here,” he says, popping the orange on the border of your two desks. “Quick, before you pass out.” 
“Thank you,” you mumble. 
It’s sad to watch you eat the orange. Your chewing is morose, your eyes tracking up and down your screen with little hurry. 
He cracks too quickly. “You okay?” he asks. 
“I’m fine.” 
“Do you want a cup of water?” 
“James. I’m fine, I’m just tired.” 
You stand and stretch with a sad moan, joints popping audibly, your arm over your eyes as they do. You let it fall and begin to walk away from the desk nook toward the bathroom, and that’s when James notices your accident. 
He jumps up from his seat, his hand held forward and trying to catch you before you can get too far away. He takes your hand, to your confusion, pulling you back toward him. 
“James, I’m fine,” you say, clearly shy. 
“You’ve bled through.” 
Your face fills with palpable, horrified mortification. “What?” 
“The seat of your trousers,” he says quietly. James can’t confess to caring about discretion when it comes to human function, but he doesn’t think you’d enjoy your private business being shouted across the office. “It’s not a lot.” 
You freeze. 
He lets your hand fall. 
“It’s okay,” he says, frowning at your embarrassed pouting and the glossy shine that’s formed over your eyes. 
“I don’t know what to do,” you confess under your breath. 
It’s so stupid because it’s not vulnerable, you aren’t some wounded animal that needs his help, but he has that awful aching sorriness for you that he can’t bite back. You’re not his friend and he’s sympathetic anyways, he’d never let you feel embarrassed over something you can’t help because he knows exactly how it feels (even if your particular affliction isn’t one he suffers). James nods at you decidedly and leans forward, grabbing the neck of his jumper and pulling it off quickly. 
“Here,” he says, his hair tickling his ears as it falls back into place. He offers the jumper. You don’t take it. 
“James, I might…” 
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. Just take it and I’ll see if I can sort something out. I’ll get Lily for you. What do you think?” 
“Are you sure?” you ask. 
“Of course I’m sure. Tie that around your waist, yeah?” 
You take the jumper from his hands. “I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry? It’s fine, it happens.” 
“You don’t even like me and you’re always doing things for me,” you say, wobbly. 
James blames the hormones he thinks you might have ravaging your system right now. You’re tired, you clearly didn’t eat enough at breakfast, and you’re on your cycle. It’s not a nice mix of things to experience, and to pile some public humiliation on at work must make crying inevitable. 
He takes your elbow into his hand, bending just so to put your faces on better level. “We don’t always get along,” he says softly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do things by yourself, without anyone to look out for you. Okay? This isn’t a big deal to me.” He gives your elbow a mild shake. “Okay?” he asks again. 
You sniffle but don’t cry. “Yeah, okay.” 
“Okay. Don’t worry, angel. Those trousers were a choice anyway.” 
You wave him away with a weak laugh. 
James walks one way in search of HR and you slink to the bathroom with his jumper around your waist. And Remus, who’s gaze had been summoned by the rapid departure of you both at the same time, sits gobsmacked at his desk. James had looked not even a millisecond from kissing the frown from your lips, his thumb pressed with tender care to your arm, and you’d just let him do it, the rigid set of your shoulders relaxing the longer he touched you. 
Remus takes his phone from his pocket to text Sirius. Need to talk to you about James
What’s he done? 
Remus sort of thinks his friend might be falling in love. It’s gonna be a total disaster.
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ceesimz · 21 days
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Kissing a Fool
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This is a classic sick fic - a quick trip to the out of hours doctors but nothing extreme.
If there was one thing that Alexia was, it was determined. That was what had gotten her to the place she was today, with countless trophies and awards in her possession, stadiums filled by fans adorning jerseys with her name and number, an endless amount of brands desperate to work with her, and millions around the world idolising her.
However, nobody was perfect.
Sometimes, Alexia's determination can, and will, bleed into pure stubbornnes. And that's when things can start to go a little downhill.
It all started one morning when she woke up beside you with a certain scratchiness in her throat and a dull ache behind her eyes. She ignored it, obviously.
Ignored it throughout your shared morning routine, paying you no mind when you asked if she was okay due to the disgruntled furrow in her brow and how she squinted uncomfortably with every slight increase of light. She also ignored it as she kept her sunglasses on whilst moving from her car to the main building for training, again acting none the wiser to the face you pulled at her as she walked around the facilities with the glasses still firmly planted and seemingly going nowhere anytime soon.
"Ale, you know you can't wear them for training?" You wonder amusedly as she holds the door to the locker room open for you. Shockingly, she doesn't reply, she just answers with a noise that can only be described as a huff. "If your head is hurting, take some pills before we start. Don't be stubborn."
"No. Todo está bien." She offers a tight-lipped smile as a consolation to her bare-faced lie, and the only thing you can do is sigh, nod, and leave her be until she finally gives in.
Though, in her world, giving in wasn't even a concept, nevermind an option. As expected, she woke up the next day feeling so much worse, to the point where she had no appetite and even if she wanted to eat, her throat was in way too much agony to simply just entertain that thought.
That was something you didn't realise though, because she normally had breakfast whilst you showered in the morning, meaning you didn't spot she had skipped that step. You also overlooked the fact she'd been completely non-verbal that day as she dared not to speak through fear of her voice failing her. It was only when you were rushing around, last minute of course, to pack your training bag when you needed her help.
"Ale, where are my new boots?" You called out from the bedroom, knowing she was at least somewhere in the flat. When you didn't get a response, you groaned frustratedly and marched out into the kitchen.
"Did you hear me?" You ask where she was seated at the kitchen island, slowly drinking a mug of honey and lemon tea whilst scrolling through her phone.
"I can't find my boots. Ale!"
Looking across at her from your place in the hallway by the front door, rooting through the storage cupboard beside it, Alexia shrugs half-heartedly.
"Okay, amazing, thanks for all your help. Don't blow up at me if we're late." You scoff at her, turning back to the cupboard.
Amidst your frantic search, you miss the way Alexia leans her body weight on the island counter in front of her as she stands, and the pained groan that goes with that. She walks over to the coffee table and pulls out the Nike box you were looking for from the bottom half of the unit, clearing her throat with a grimace before presenting it to you.
"Oh, thank god. Thanks, I'll be ready in literally just a minute, I swear." With a quick kiss to her cheek, you sprint back off to the bedroom to continue packing for the day.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Alexia fixes herself another honey and lemon tea that she purposely adds an ice cube to just so she can drink it before you come back in. It doesn't help at all though, and the realistic part of her mind immediately notices that is a huge red flag, but of course her workaholic mindset overrides it and shoves that thought to the side.
So when you come rushing back in, packed bag in hand, she offers a smile and leads you out of the apartment with a caring hand on your lower back.
Her untimely crash arrived later that day. The combination of a high fever and the symptoms that came with that and her illness, as well as the lack of food and the Barcelona sun, all colluded together to tear her down until all that was left was a lethargic and downtrodden shell of her.
You waited for what felt like forever as she showered, to the point where you were the only one left in the locker room. At some point she finally did walk out, her hair unbrushed and her face bright red and clammy despite the fact she had just showered, and her actions the past two days along with this appearance of hers caused alarm bells to ring in your head.
"Be honest, Alexia, how do you feel?" You question her pointedly, watching with a careful eye as she avoided your eyeline and cleared her throat for possibly the hundredth time that day.
"Fine." It was then that you realised that was the first time you'd actually heard her talk that day, and the sound of her voice sounded as comfortable as nails on a chalk board.
"Please, Ale, just be honest. You look awful." You tell her, to which she lets out a sharp breath, otherwise known as her attempt at a suppressed laugh. "What do you get out of lying about it? Nothing. If you're sick and feeling like shit, just admit it so we can figure out how to make you better."
The fact you said 'we' when talking about her being ill made the prospect of just dropping her act and accepting she's sick exceptionally more appealing, but she just couldn't do it. Tomorrow was an important Champion's League game, and there was no way she was going to miss it. Not a chance in hell.
"I am okay, I am coping. Let's go home." She managed to get out, swallowing harshly after speaking to choke down a gag due to the agonising burn of her throat.
"Will you at least take some medicine at home? There's no use feeling like this when there's things you can have to at least take the edge off." You try to compromise, knowing at the very least you will force some pills down her throat one way or the other.
She nods, finally admitting defeat to one little thing, and your stern persona softens a little. Under the light of the changing room, her face is pale apart from her rosy cheeks and there's a sheen to her forehead that indicates just how terrible she's feeling. And there was no point sugar-coating it, she really did look awful.
"Hey. Come here."
Offering your arms out for a hug, Alexia mumbles something you can't quite make out before stepping into your embrace and deflating with a deep sigh.
"It's all well and good hiding how you feel around the team, but not me. Please don't do it around me. A blind person could see you feel atrocious so please admit that and accept my help." You whisper, rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly.
"Don't want you to get sick." She mutters at the quietest volume she can, giving you a hint at just how much discomfort she was in.
"That doesn't matter to me. Let me take care of you. Please?" Hesitantly, she nods after a moment, so you pull back to get a good look at her face. What you're met with breaks your heart. "Oh, Ale. Let's get you home."
You do exactly that, demanding that she go get in bed the second you're through the door to your apartment. Now, in the comfort of her own home, you hope that she'll fully drop her guard down, but it seems a little trickier than you thought. She rejects the bed and settles for the sofa, though she grabs her laptop from the coffee table and opens it to start doing some work admin.
"What are you doing?" You ask when you come over with a glass of ice water and a pack of tablets.
"Work." She answers with a shrug. This was part of her routine, but you had guessed, incorrectly, that she would drop this part of the day considering how she was feeling.
"No, you should be resting." You tell her, sitting beside her and offering her the box of pills.
"I am not running on a football field anymore. I am on the couch like you asked. This is routine." Alexia answers. Her voice is barely there anymore, it was merely just a rasp, and the pain she hid was evident in each word.
"Alexia." You sigh disapprovingly, popping two tablets out of the packet for her. "If you're going to be like this, at least for the love of god take these pills."
She does as you say, swallowing them both with a grimace before turning her attention straight back to her laptop screen. You had tried your best to help her, but pressuring her further would only make the situation worse, so you relent and stifle a sigh. There was a little bit of guilt you felt at getting annoyed at her, but this was just who Alexia was. You didn't like this process, you despised it, but there would eventually be a time where she would come crawling back to you when her stubborn tendencies had taken it too far, you just hoped she was sensible about it.
It was undeniably difficult watching her as the afternoon bled into the evening, knowing at some point her meds had worn off and she was putting herself through torture for nothing. Still, she was adamant as ever that she was okay, so there was little you could do about it without causing an argument. The only positive was that she somewhat relaxed after eating less than a third of her dinner, cuddling up to you as the pair of you watched a film on the sofa.
Her blinks got slower and her eyelids drooped a little over halfway through though, so you decided it was time to usher her to bed. And if she refused, that would be your last straw before you blew up at her.
Thankfully, and quite surprisingly, she agreed and stood up before walking, very sluggishly, to your shared bedroom.
At her request, you make her a cup of the tea she'd had before and bring it to where she lay on her side once she'd done her routine, a hand covering her eyes to block any light. Placing the mug down on the table, you draw the curtains and sit beside her, one hand falling to her head to gently massage her scalp.
"Rest. Early night. Big game tomorrow." Alexia insists weakly, barely able to string a sentence together as she pats the space beside her for you to lay down.
"You've not taken any tablets, or drank your tea. I'm not resting until you do." You state, not-so-discreetly laying the back of your palm on her forehead to gauge her temperature. Her skin is burning, and you curse the pair of you for somehow not owning a thermometer in your flat. "Ale, you're really unwell."
"It's not too bad." She argues feebly, leaning up on shaky arms to sit up against the head board. You hand her the tea and tablets, watching as she winces even more than earlier whilst struggling to swallow the pills.
"Ale." You warn her. "I doubt you should even play tomorrow."
"No!" She croaks out, coughing afterwards. "I am playing. No other option."
Speechless at her defiance, you just shake your head and go about your own night routine. As you brush your teeth, you watch her through the crack in the door and see how she is when no one is around. Her face scrunches up every time she swallows, and her hand clutches at her throat too. Not only that, but you hear her let out strangled groans every so often whenever she moves, her body aching and her head pounding. This all indicates the exact kind of state she's in, and it's not one fit for a 90+ minute long, possibly intense, football game.
"Alexia, listen to me." You demand tenderly, sitting beside her again and taking her hand. "You are not well. Stop resisting that because you will only get worse. This game tomorrow, the rest of the team have it. I believe that absolutely, and I know you do too but you won't admit that aloud. I know what's going on in that head of yours; you're scared of letting people down and disappointing yourself, your family, me, and the fans. Well, I'll tell you. You won't let anyone down by not playing. People, and that includes me, just want you to be healthy. You can gaslight yourself into thinking you've not got a minor injury, but you can't do that in this situation. You need to slow down and rest before you end up in the back of an ambulance."
"It won't end like that." Alexia shakes her head.
"That was just an exaggeration, Ale. I have no doubt that you will be sensible and not let it get to that point. Please, for your own sake, prove me right." You sigh once more, flicking off the lamp to delve the room into darkness so you can settle for the night. "Get some sleep at least. I love you and I only want the best for you."
"Love you too."
The way she tucks herself up beside you for the night, her face buried in the gap between your neck and shoulder, tells you all you need to know. It's a subliminal sign of how much she needs you, a subconscious message that conveys how much she wants to give in to whatever illness she's got and let you take care of her. The thing is, she's not quite at that stage yet mentally.
So when you line up in the stadium tunnel the next day, a few people in between you both, you're staring daggers into the back of her head that she can surely sense.
Your attempts throughout the day to get her to skip just one match, where Barcelona were already winning 2-0 on aggregate, were completely futile because - shock horror! - she just would not listen. You gave her a piece of your mind multiple times, as did Irene and Marta and Mapi and other members of the Barcelona staff. What frustrated you most though, aside from Alexia's stubbornness, was Jona's willingness to put her on the pitch. He didn't think twice when Alexia confirmed with an apprehensive nod that she was well enough for the match today, and that's how you were in this situation now.
Throughout the whole first half, where Salma scored to make it 3-0 on aggregate, your eyes were on her any chance they could. By the 30th minute, her movements were sluggish and slightly lacklustre, you were adamant it was clear for everyone to see that playing today was not the right choice. Did that mean the referee or the match officials or Jona and his staff did anything about it? Absolutely not.
At a lull in the game, where the opposing goalkeeper was getting the ball for a goalkick, you jogged over to her and tugged on her jersey.
"You need to get off this pitch, Alexia. You are not fit to play." You warned her through gritted teeth before walking off without a response.
That didn't seem to deter her from continuing though, because she carried on playing like you hadn't spoken a word to her. Your fury only grew, and it took everything in you for it not to show through your actions in the game. You managed to suppress it until halftime, where you sprinted off the pitch to give Jona a lecture about the circumstances.
You were almost certain that, when Alexia walked back onto the pitch for the second half, there was steam coming out of your ears like a comedy sketch. If you thought your girlfriend looked awful the previous day, she looked even worse now.
"She snuck off to the toilets at halftime to... you know, throw up." Esmee reveals as you go to join the team huddle. That revelation just added fuel to the fire.
After the huddle, you carefully grasped her arm to give her another warning.
"Alexia, I know you were sick at the break. You need to get off the pitch, you are worrying me now." You choose a softer approach, hoping it'll get through to her.
"No. Leave it." She grunted, jogging away towards her starting position.
Turns out, as you had told her for the past 72 hours, that statement could not be more wrong. By the 60th minute, her movements were lethargic and lacked any strength or power, and each kick of the ball stole more energy from her already severely depleted endurance. Every step, every little movement felt like she was fighting a losing battle, and it was obvious to everybody at this point. Any longer and she would have had to been taken off on a stretcher.
But finally, finally, it seemed concerns were raised about her because she was substituted off. Alexia decided now was the time to give in, because truthfully she had never felt worse in her life.
The words from the staff and her teammates around her simply weren't registering in her head as she grabbed a puffer coat, zipped it up to her chin with the hood up, and staggered down the tunnel. She was freezing cold, yet to the touch of anyone else she was sure they'd be burnt at how hot her skin was. Stumbling through the door of the physio room, she just about made it to one of the beds before she collapsed down onto it.
By the time one of the team doctors caught up to her, she was shivering at an extreme level, also unable to stop the pathetic whimpers and whines that left her. The next period of time was a blur as the medics worked around her, urging her to take off the jacket as a cold cloth was draped across her neck and a bottle of water with electrolytes in it was handed to her. She sipped at it periodically, eyes tightly shut as the effect of her defiance ripped through her. With not much else to do right now but bask in self-pity, she was filled with regret and shame for letting it get to this point, where she couldn't even finish a game. If you were to ask her now, not that she could really talk, she would confess that she absolutely should not have played today.
To put it simply, she had exerted herself far too much and pushed way beyond the limits that her health could handle. Her actions were dangerous, to no one other than herself, and that paired with the worry people no doubt felt for her, eventually led to tears seeping from her eyes. She would never admit that they were mostly a result of how unwell she was feeling, no, she wasn't at that point yet.
The only saving grace in this whole thing was when you rushed into the room once the match was over. When you approached her, her eyes were still closed and she appeared to be stuck in some kind of trance. Your hand on her waist didn't alert her, neither did the hand that brushed her hair out of her face where it stuck to her forehead.
"Ale?" You whispered, jumping a little when her eyes flew open.
There was no other reaction from her though, she just looked at you with wide, frantic, fearful eyes that seemed to plead for help. It was then that you realised the trance she was in was a state of shock, and it instilled fear in you too.
"We think it's best we take her to the out of hours doctors. She has symptoms of tonsillitis, I doubt it is anything more severe than that, and it's just been made worse by playing today and not resting." One of the members of the medical team advised, to which you nodded instantly.
"Yeah, absolutely. Can someone drive us there please?" You asked, glancing back down at your girlfriend to see her eyes had shut again as more tears streamed from them. You took one of her hands and cupped her cheek, your thumb gently stroking over the burning skin of her face.
"Of course. We'll have it outside in a few minutes."
It was a struggle trying to get her to the car, but eventually you were in the backseat with her leaning heavily against you, her head on your shoulder. You clutched at her hand for the whole drive, filled with intense concern for the woman beside you. She could barely keep her eyes open, nevermind talk or move. To sum it up, she was ruined. And though, rationally, you knew it was all her own doing, you couldn't help but feel somewhat at fault for it getting this bad. Ultimately, there were lessons to be learnt for the both of you, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to do better next time. You never wanted to go through this again, nor did you ever want to even imagine Alexia this sick again.
The team doctor that accompanied you explained the situation to the receptionist at the sign-in desk, and fortunately there was a doctor available immediately for Alexia to see. That was a huge weight off your shoulders, literally, because the nurses helped to guide Alexia to the consultation room and assisted her in laying down on the bed.
It was quickly decided that giving Alexia an IV was the best way to start as it would provide her with fluids that she had lacked recently, before the doctor assessed how bad her tonsillitis was. He then prescribed her a round of strong antibiotics for her to take for the next ten days, something that would be a struggle due to the condition her throat was in but she'd get it done.
Now in proper care receiving treatment, Alexia was feeling slightly better and a lot less spaced out. The staff member from Barca had left a while ago once Alexia had been seen to, and for the moment the doctor had stepped out of the room to get her tablets. That left the pair of you alone now, for the first time since before the game earlier.
You were stood beside her bed, still grasping tightly to one hand as the other repeatedly ran over her hair to comfort her. Though, out of nowhere, Alexia rolled over and it worried your for a moment, thinking she might be sick, but she only dropped your hand and pulled you closer by the waist so that she could hide her face in your jersey covered stomach. With a soft smile, you let her rest there, glad she was doing well now.
No words needed to be uttered, it was a moment of silent intimacy that allowed both of you to process the events that had occurred and begin to decompress from the stress of it all. There was no doubt in your mind that your girlfriend was still feeling rougher than ever, but there was comfort found in the fact that she wasn't hiding her true feelings now. What she needed was you, that's all she wanted all along, and in this moment now she started to think she was borderline crazy for denying herself from that.
You could pin-point the exact moment she had that thought, because despite her weakness, she managed to pull you tighter to herself. Additionally, you felt her body deflate as she sighed into your shirt.
"Sorry."
Through her limited words that you had quickly grown accustomed to over the past few days, you know there are about a hundred other things she wants to say in this moment, but her voice and her vocabulary fail her. You couldn't blame her or fault her though, you never could, because that one word placed a plaster over an anxious crack that had formed with everything that had occurred.
"It's alright, Ale. I'm just glad you're on the mend now." She leans back a little and looks up at you with anxious, bloodshot eyes, and you understand the message she's trying to communicate. Your heart plunged at the broken sight of her, but you quickly reminded yourself this wasn't the time for that. You needed to relax almost as much as she did. "Don't worry about it, my love. Just relax for now, that's all I ask of you."
That seems to do the trick, because she settles back down afterwards and the last bout of stress leaves her body. Despite her weakened movements, her grip on your waist never faltered. The simple fact of it all was that you both needed the proximity right now. Love languages always came across as a bit of a farce to you both, but it was hard to deny that right now one of them was being portrayed at its utmost strength.
There was one last thing, however, that you had to do to settle those last niggling anxieties.
You move out of Alexia's space momentarily, smiling slightly at the disapproving mewl she lets out, and she watches with one eye as you pull up a chair beside her so that you're at a more equal level. She's still lay on her side facing you, one side of her face smushed against the bed which makes you let out a quiet giggle that pulls a confused look out of Alexia.
"You look a bit cute right now." You tell her, grinning when she huffed and closed her eyes. From your new position, you raise a hand and slowly start tracing your index finger up over her nose and down the right side of her face, repeating the movement over and over again. "I love you."
Her eyes opened once more at the statement you uttered, a hint of a genuine smile blooming on her face for what might be the first time that day.
"Same." Was all she could mumble, making you laugh and the sound of it caused her smile to grow.
"I feel bad for laughing but I can't help it." You somewhat apologise, and Alexia rolls her eyes jokingly.
When she gazes at you again, you're completely overcome with love and admiration for her, knowing there's not a soul on earth you could adore in the same way you do for her. At that, you lean forward to press your lips against hers, but upon first contact, she jolts away with wide eyes.
"No, amor." She grumbled despite the pain it caused her.
"Why not?" You wondered, feeling a little butt hurt at the rejection.
"You will get sick." The midfielder states like it's an obvious fact. Well, she was wrong.
"No I won't." You claim with a sly grin. When she frowned in confusion, you giggled. "I had my tonsils removed when I was younger."
A look of understanding and relief crosses her face, before she smiles and pouts up at you dramatically. To deny her now would be sinful. Her lips are a little chapped, but in the grand scheme of things, that minor fact is like a drop in the ocean, because your girlfriend is here, and she's safe, and she's going to get better, and most importantly of all, she's in love with you. In sickness and in health, right?
"You really are as white as a piece of paper, Ale."
"Stop being mean."
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kingkatsuki · 4 months
Text
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— when it’s raining outside
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Masterlist.
I know it’s been a while, but I’m falling back in love with this Bakugou specifically.
Warnings: none.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.1k.
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Regardless of Pro-Hero Dynamight being one of the most successful fire quirk users in Japan, his agency isn’t exempt from Health and Safety. Some may argue that his team are far more strict compared to the likes of Shouto’s building which is only a few blocks away, and it’s definitely not because the Number Two Hero almost set fire to an entire floor when testing out new grenade designs.
But since that incident, there have been consistent fire drills weekly to ensure that the building and its staff are protected. Along with new fire safety robots that have been deployed to ensure that each individual makes it out safely.
“Another dumb fuckin’ tick box exercise.” Bakugou would always say, and he was probably right. The Pro-Hero alone could probably rescue each person trapped inside the building if something did happen, but it’s always good to be precautious right?
Or so you would say, until the fire alarms were blaring on a particularly bleary Monday while you were trying to unjam the photocopier. Groaning at the abrasive noise as you debated running back to your desk for your coat (and coffee) before being forced out of the warmth of the agency into the torrential downpour outside.
“Do not panic! We are here for your safety.” You scrunched your nose at the voice that was arguably worse than the alarm as you turned to face the fire Marshall robots which were now skimming the floor. The red flashing lights swirling angrily as the computerised smile on the machine that was surely there to calm you did the exact opposite.
“Stop. In case of emergency do not take the elevator.” The robot continued to blare. The designated fire drills always happened on a Friday afternoon (conveniently when Dynamight left for his evening patrol), so you wondered whether this may be a real incident as you made your way towards the stairs.
You had further to go compared to anyone else, working on the top floor alone with Dynamight so the lower you descended you began to see other employees— some lucky enough to be carrying coats and umbrellas as you followed them further. The noise from the alarm echoed in the hall as it mixed with the chatter, wondering what had happened and if they were safe. But at that moment you were more irritated that you’d be going outside in nothing but a thin cotton shirt and trousers.
The cold was bitter as you finally made it to the bottom floor of the sky scraper, thankful you wouldn’t have to ascend them after as you stepped into the heavy rain. Wrapping your arms around yourself to try and provide some comfort as you tried to look for any space under the shelter surrounding the building. The majority which was already taken by the employees that worked on the lower floors, huddled together and squeezed under umbrellas to shield themselves from the wet. Although, there were plenty like you who had not been fortunate enough to grab something on their way down and were just as exposed to the elements.
Resigning to defeat you huddled as close to a neighbouring building as you could, thankful it at least shielded you enough from the wild tunnel Dynamight’s Agency created to prevent being pelted with rain.
But it was still freezing.
Shimmying from toe to toe as you tried to keep yourself warm, watching as Backdraft turned up with the local fire service to scout the building.
“What’s goin’ on?” You heard a voice behind you as you turned to face your boss standing there, gym bag slung over his shoulder and a black hoodie pulled over his messy blond spikes.
“Shouldn’t you be saving us from the fire?” You laughed.
“Shut up, dumbass.” He scoffed, before his voice softened, “Where’s your coat?”
“In there.” You nodded towards his agency as he shook his head.
“Why didn’t you grab it?”
“Those stupid robots wouldn’t let me,” You pouted, now so wet you could no longer feel the rain dampening your skin.
Bakugou’s lip curled into the faintest hint of a smile at this, unbothered about the rain as he dumped his gym bag to the ground in favour of reaching back to tug his hoodie up and over his head. The movement pulled his black shirt up along with it, and you shamelessly ogled the exposed skin as you followed the wispy hairs of his happy trail disappear beneath black sweatpants. The hem of his boxers peeking out from under them as you felt a heat rise to your cheeks and flurry through you all the way down between your thighs.
Turning your head just in time as he pulled his shirt back down over his stomach before holding the hoodie out to you, pushing it into your side.
“What are you doing?” You looked down at the hoodie before glancing up at him.
“Put it on.” He replied bluntly.
“But you’ll get wet—”
“Put it on.” He ignored your objection, reaching up to ruffle his messy hair as the rain now began to dampen it.
“Thank you.” You murmured, instantly feeling the relief as you tugged it over your head.
The heat that radiated from Bakugou’s body now encapsulating you as you pulled your arms through the sleeves, burying your nose in the fabric as you inhaled the scent of him. A mixture of sweat and cologne as you almost forgot that you were standing outside in the pouring rain. No longer in a rush to get back inside the warm building as you let yourself be surrounded by him.
“Is it a drill?” You asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to begin calling a number.
“No idea.” He rasped while holding it up to his ear.
You tried to listen in on the conversation but the mixture of wind, chatter and the alarms in the distance made it difficult to decipher what was being said on the other line.
“It’s a false alarm.” Bakugou scoffed as he hung up, “Someone triggered the alarm in the canteen.”
“See what happens when you’re not around,” You smiled to yourself as Bakugou pushed his wet spikes back, exposing his forehead as he smirked back, “All hell breaks loose.”
“Yeah, can’t leave you alone for five fuckin’ minutes, can I?” He scoffed.
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When you were finally let back inside the building, you offered to take Bakugou’s hoodie home to wash it before giving it back to him but he wouldn’t allow it. Telling you it was just an old hoodie and it didn’t matter— but the real reason he wanted to take it back like it was because after wearing it outside the scent of your perfume still lingered on the fabric.
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725 notes · View notes
judeswhore · 1 year
Text
hell is when i fight with you; jude bellingham
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summary: you might be in the middle of a fight but jude can’t let you leave without saying he loves you
pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader
warnings: angst? idk actually
notes: you can find my masterlist here. this is for my number 1 fan who absolutely cannot stand my work💅🏻
jude was in the kitchen when you went to grab your coffee, his back to you while he fiddled with the loaf of bread. you knew he knew you were there, his shoulders had tensed the second you’d walked through the door, a momentary pause in his movements but he didn’t turn around. not that you wanted him to, you were sure your dwindling anger would only return if you met his gaze. it had been almost three hours since you’d last spoken a word to each other and the tension in the room was almost suffocating.
thankfully the coffee machine was on the other side of the room, offering you well wanted space between you and your boyfriend, the kitchen island a physical buffer between the two of you. waiting for the machine to kick in you could hear jude shuffling around, his sock clad feet quiet against the floor.
“what time will you be back?”
“six.” silence followed, seeming even louder than before but again, neither of you rushed to fill it. the coffee machine spluttered. jude coughed and let the bin lid fall with a clatter. someone’s car backfired a few streets over. somewhere in the very back of your mind you knew you were both being petty. the argument wasn’t over anything serious, it was silly in retrospect but you were stubborn, jude even more so, therefore the likelihood of a civilised conversation before you left for work was unlikely.
you felt his heat against your back before he’d actually stepped up behind you, your body attuned to his every move but you remained still and quiet, even when his hand appeared in front of you. his chest was warm against your shoulder, the scent of his shower gel and aftershave washing over you in an unwanted comforting wave. he dropped a freshly made box of sandwiches and fruit in front of you.
“make sure you eat this,” there was still a hard edge to his voice, gruff around the edges and forced out around a scowl. he hesitated for only a moment, a second of waiting to see if you had anything to say but all he got was a noncommittal hum in reply. you knew he was rolling his eyes. the coffee finished pouring and again the flat was completely silent.
jude’s lips found your temple, soft and warm, lingered a little longer than necessary before he was stepping back, cold flooding your side in an instant. his kiss, however brief, had made your heart jump, heat curling low in your tummy but you still didn’t lift your eyes to his, intent on standing your ground. he was already halfway across the kitchen before he spoke again, the words low and just edging on passive aggressive, enough so that you turned to glower at him.
“i love you, be safe.” he didn’t give you chance to return the admission or to fight it and his tone, simply left without a second glance back. all you could do was huff, shoving your lunch into your bag, fixing the lid on your flask all the while muttering under your breath about that “awful stubborn man”. you weren’t sure what you were most annoyed about. that he’d made you lunch as if you couldn’t yourself, at the tone of his voice or that fact he hadn’t let you tell him you loved him too. you decided on all three as you headed for the door.
you thought about slamming it behind you but you weren’t that childish and so instead you wrestled your phone from the bottom of your bag, pulling up his contact as you headed down onto the street. you might be fighting and you might just slightly think he’s an idiot but that didn’t lessen your real feelings for him and clearly jude felt the same. you sent the text before putting him individually on do not disturb, content with leaving it at that.
i love you too.
jude could sense something was off (other than your obvious argument) the second you stepped through the door, feet half stomping across the floor into the bedroom. you’d kicked your shoes off in the hallway, hung your coat on the rack but you half launched your bag down onto the chair in front of the dresser in a huff. he was sprawled on the bed, feet crossed at the ankles, phone in hand but he paused his scroll through tiktok in favour of watching you trudge into the adjoining bathroom.
it was dark in the room but jude caught sight of your face, pinched and drawn in, eyes dull and a little heavy and something inside of him lurched when he realised you might have been crying. you looked exhausted, weary and warn out and that one expression had all previous thoughts of fighting out of the window. he was quick in clambering from the bed, following you into the en suite where he watched you pull out your face cleansers. he’d been right about the crying, your eyes were still glassy.
“baby,” you jumped, dropped the face wash with a clatter into the sink and your gaze met his through the mirror with a tired and only half withering scowl. when you made no effort to answer, jude shuffled forward, hands sliding around your waist, curling tight around you as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “hey, what’s up?”
“nothin’”
“don’t give me that, why’ve you been crying?”
“i haven’t,” you wriggled free of his grip, batting his hands away from you so you could pick the fallen cleanser back up. “i poked myself in the eye.” he was having none of that, the feeling of guilt and unease only getting heavier in his chest over thoughts that you’d been crying because of him. his fingers curled around yours and he tugged, shushing your complaints with a shake of his head.
with a huff you went quiet, let him guide you to the bed where he settled back into his old spot, pulled you until you were between his open legs, head against his chest. despite your early protests the second he settled you against him you relaxed, wrapped your arms around his waist and tucked your nose away in the soft cotton of his shirt. the second you were tangled together it was like your earlier fight had never happened, the need to be the one to hold out the silent treatment the longest completely disregarded.
jude brushed a hand over the back of your head.
“what happened?”
“nothing, honestly, i just- it was just a bad day.” he stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, knowing that wasn’t the end and you’d carry on. you pressed closer to him, slipped one hand under his shirt to seek comfort in the warmth of his skin and heaved a sigh. “everything went wrong, everything! during my lunch break i spilt coffee all over my paperwork and then i got yelled at because they were ruined. and on my way home it started raining and i dropped my phone because my hands were slippery and the screen cracked and i couldn’t call you because now it won’t work.”
“hey,” jude’s voice was soft, his hand rubbing comfortingly along the length of your arm, his head dipping so he could press a long kiss to the crown of your head. he left his lips there even as he spoke. “i’m sorry you got yelled at, baby, but the paperwork is digital too right?” you gave a small nod. “so you can just reprint, whoever yelled at you should’ve known that and should treat their employees with a bit more respect, we all make mistakes.”
“but-“
“no, no buts,” he brushed his hand across your jaw when you turned so your cheek was pressed to his chest, ran his thumb under your eye to clear the fallen tears. he wasn’t sure when you’d started crying again but it tugged painfully at his heart, his brow crinkling even as he nuzzled into your hairline. “and we can fix your phone, tomorrow, i’ll take it into town and get someone to look at the screen, okay?”
he kissed your forehead before tapping his fingers under your chin, urging you to lift your head to look at him. it took a few seconds, your sniffles and slightly hitched breaths the only sound in the room, but when you did jude slipped his hand along your jaw. your bottom lip wobbled when he brushed away a few more tears.
“and i’m sorry about this morning, i was a dick and being unfair and i shouldn’t have let you leave without apologising first.” you were shaking your head before he’d even finished, wiping aggressively at your eyes with your own hand.
“i’m sorry, too. i was over dramatic when i didn’t need to be and it was petty. i didn’t wanna talk to you before i left because i didn’t want you to think you’d won.” jude huffed a little laugh at that, leant forward to brush the tip of his nose against your temple. he kissed the same spot a second later.
“we’re both childish and stubborn.”
“we’re stupid.”
“yeah.” he laughed again, shifted so he could cup your face in both hands and bring you in closer. you clung a little harder to him. “i’m still sorry about your day, especially if the argument made it worse. y’gonna let me make it up to you?”
“you don’t have to, we were both wrong.”
“but i want to. let me run you a bath and we can order in food? or i’ll cook you something.” your head shook, face twisting a little and you leant into jude’s palm when he stroked your cheek again. you’d stopped crying but the puffy skin and glassy sheen in your eyes still made his chest ache. he kissed the spot between your eyebrows, a soothing gesture in hopes of settling you.
“you’re an awful cook.”
“yeah, i was hoping you’d say no.” he grinned at you. “chinese? i’ll order it while you’re in the bath and i’ll shove one of my hoodies in the dryer so it’s warm when you get out.”
“jude-“ he shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours.
“let me make you feel better. please.” you could only nod at that, a shuddering breath fanning against his lips. you gave a slow blink and his lips tilted into a soft smile before he pitched forward to kiss you. before he could however your face scrunched and your turned away, his mouth instead landing on your cheek.
“what’re you-“
“i’m all snotty.”
“so? i love you and your snotty nose, so c’mere and let me kiss you.” jude didn’t really give you any chance to protest, his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin, thumb pressed soft just below your bottom lip and he closed his mouth over yours.
the kiss was slow, a gentle drag of his lips across yours, tongues brushing soft and languid and each shared breath was a whisper of apology. he kissed you with careful movements, his free hand sliding down your arm to wrap around your wrist and lift it up. when his lips left yours, his chin tilted down and he pressed a feather light kiss to the palm of your hand.
“i love you.” you were nodding, gripping the back of his head to lead him back to your burning mouth.
“i know, i love you, too.”
2K notes · View notes
Text
A Test Of Faith
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pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: to test the BAU, a bold unsub abducts one of their members and sends the team on a wild goose chase. with reckless decisions and personal feelings taking hold, will the team be able to save one of their own or will their faith in each other come crumbling down?
warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugs, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of injury, angst, 3rd person, slight fluff, minor cursing
word count: 7k
a/n: this isn’t proofread so i’m sorry for any mistakes!
part two (coming soon)
read on ao3
friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!
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“Hey, has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Reid asked with a frown as he entered the bullpen, hanging his bag over the back of his chair.
“She’s not here yet, why?”
His face only scrunched up further at Morgan’s words. He knew it was unusual for her to be late to work, let alone skip out on plans at the last minute. “It’s just, we were supposed to get coffee this morning but she didn’t show.”
Morgan shrugged. “Maybe she overslept?”
“Maybe…”
He wanted to believe it because the alternative, which had already begun to play on his mind, was much worse. Still, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that was starting to settle into the bottom of his stomach. That uneasy feeling which had taken hold before he’d even left the coffee shop where they were supposed to meet.
Something was wrong. He knew that even before the box arrived.
It was delivered by courier directly to the office. The only indicator of who it was for was in thick, red marker across the top of the box which spelt out nothing but ‘BAU’. The handwriting was neat but unnecessarily large.
Morgan held the box, inspecting it as Reid and Prentiss peered over his shoulders.
“What is it?” Emily questioned, waiting for Morgan to open the package.
“Nothing good.” All eyes turned to their superior as he approached, holding up a letter written in the same red ink that decorated the box.
Hotchner passed the note to Prentiss, allowing her to read it to the rest of the team. “‘For Agent Hotchner at the BAU. A package will arrive not long after you read this, I suggest you gather your team and prepare for the game’?”
“Game? What game?”
Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan’s question, already trying to piece together what was going on. “You don’t think this has anything to do with why y/n is late, do you?”
“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re going to need the whole team on this. Reid, try to get in contact with y/n and find out where she is. Prentiss, gather the others. I want everyone in the briefing room within the next five minutes.”
Just like that, the group dispersed and, within minutes, they assembled again for the briefing.
“Still no y/n?”
Reid shook his head as he pushed his phone back into his pocket. “She isn’t answering her phone.”
“No matter, we’ll have to catch her up when she gets here. We can’t waste any more time, we need to know what’s inside the box,” Hotch sighed and signalled for Morgan to finally open it up.
The team watched on anxiously, worried about the contents of the package they’d received. More often than not, packages with notes such as the one they’d received were a little more than unpleasant.
The one thing that gave them hope, was the fact that no blood seemed to be staining the cardboard from the inside. Although that didn’t mean there wasn’t a victim’s body part inside
“A CD?” Morgan frowned when he revealed its contents, only growing more curious as he checked both the front and back of the case.
It was Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds, not that anyone thought that detail was of any particular importance.
“Could just be a case the unsub is using to protect the disc. It’s most likely a video,” JJ gave her input as she reached out for the disc before moving to play it on the screen.
The room was silent as she prepared the video, nervous to find out what was on it.
Would it be a video of the unsub? Perhaps a video of them committing a crime? Murder? Torture? Assault? Something else altogether? Or had it really just been a prank? Was it really just an album?
“Oh god-” Garcia gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth the moment the video began to play, tears already pricking in the corner of her startled eyes.
That uneasy feeling in Reid’s gut only grew stronger, twisting and turning until it became all that consumed him. It had never been this bad before, not even when he himself was the one in danger. He was terrified.
Terrified for her.
There she was. Y/n, the agent who had not been late to work but abducted by their unsub. Taken in the dead of night to become a pawn in his sick game.
She was standing, just barely, with nothing but the chains around her wrists holding her up. Half-dried blood stained her forehead and matted her hair. The video only lasted for fifty-five seconds. Fifty-five seconds of nothing but her hanging there, feet barely on the ground. She was conscious but only just, likely concussed from the wound on her head.
“She’s been struck around the head, likely to incapacitate her before she could fight back during the abduction,” Morgan identified, eyes trained on the video.
“The unsub knows what he’s doing. There isn’t anything in the video that could indicate where she is,” Rossi added as he perched down on the end of the table to examine the paused video further.
Hotch hummed as he too was glued to the screen. “She can’t be far, she must have been abducted sometime since leaving here yesterday and this morning. Most likely during the night.”
JJ turned from the screen, unable to watch any longer. “We left at the same time last night and it’s unlikely she would have stopped on her way home.”
“Can we stop talking about her like she’s some random victim? This is y/n we’re talking about,” Reid snapped, drawing all eyes to him.
Each new comment in the discussion had been piling up until he just couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t just some case, nor was it any other victim. This was y/n — their friend.
“Reid, we know she isn’t just any victim but we have to look at this like we would any other case. It’s the only way we’re going to find her,” Morgan reminded, hoping to ease Reid at least a little.
“JJ, play the video again. We need to look for anything that could help us figure out where they are and Reid, I need you to focus. We’re going to need your brain on this.”
The youngest of them nodded, heeding Hotch’s words. This was just a game to the unsub — a game he’d made specifically for the BAU team. They were the only ones who could save her, he knew that.
“Hey, there’s something else in here. Looks like a note, taped to the inside of the box,” Prentiss announced before JJ had a chance to replay the video.
“What is it?” Reid was the first to jump at the new information, hoping it would be a better indication of where their missing friend was than the video.
Prentiss carefully tore the note from the box and began to read it out loud, “It’s a riddle. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains but no trees. I have water but no fish. What am I?’”
“A map,” Reid concluded after only a brief moment of pause, “It’s a map.”
“A map? I don’t see any kind of map here.” Morgan gestured at the now empty package before crossing his arms over his chest. He knew the wonder boy was right but he still couldn’t understand what the riddle could mean.
Hotch too seemed to be running circles in his head, unsure of what their unsub was trying to point them to. “Does it say anything else?”
Emily looked up from the note with troubled eyes as she voiced the final part, “Find her by midnight and she’ll live. Good luck, Agents.”
As if on cue, Reid vocalised the conclusion he had come to in his head, jumping to his feet like he was about to rush there himself without a second thought. “The Marina.”
“You think the unsub is holding her at the Marina?”
“I think it’s the only indication of a map I can find in all this. Marina and the Diamonds? The unsub didn’t choose that album without reason.”
Hotch hummed, seemingly agreeing with Reid’s deduction, and began to give directions. “Okay. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi will come with me to the Marina. JJ, I need you and Reid to watch the video again. Look for anything we might have missed in case we’re wrong. And Garcia, I need you to track down exactly who delivered the package and where they delivered it from.”
Everyone got to their feet, springing into action as they would on any other case. They all knew their part to play and knew it was vital in locating their missing team member. Everyone other than Reid, who was less than happy to have been told to stay behind.
“No, I’m going with you.”
“Reid…” Hotch turned to him with a hand to his brow, already anticipating the headache that was to come if he continued to clash with the young doctor.
“No,” he cut him off again, “This is not negotiable. I’m going to the Marina with you.”
With a sigh, the unit chief gave in, knowing there was little he could do to keep Reid in the office. “Okay, Reid you’re with us. Prentiss, you stay here with JJ. Call us the moment you find anything.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Spencer had been restless the entire ride there. His hands were fidgety in his lap, his nails occasionally digging into the skin of his palms. He was stressed and more on edge than the rest of the team, not that anyone had expected any less.
Everyone knew that Reid had had a budding crush on y/n since she joined the BAU. Not that he’d ever acted on it. Morgan teased him about it constantly, comparing it to a schoolboy crush. Only, it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. Not anymore.
The longer they had gotten to know one another, the closer y/n and Reid became. He felt as though she was the only one who really saw him, not that the rest of the team didn’t care greatly for him. She just understood him better than anyone else.
So, to say it was a simple crush would be a lie. He was in love with her. How couldn’t he be? She was pretty and funny and kind and a great agent. She saw him for who he really was and accepted every part of him. She stood up for him when the team teased him about his rambling. She always listened so intently, never once cutting him off no matter what it was he was talking about.
He was in love with her but now, he feared more than ever that he was about to lose her.
“She’s going to be okay, Reid,” Morgan comforted from the seat beside him, squeezing Reid’s shoulder as if the gesture would ease his fear.
Nothing would ease it. Not until she was safe.
It wasn’t like Reid to doubt himself. He knew he was right about the riddle, he had to be, yet he was still starting to wonder what would happen if he was wrong.
They only had until midnight. There was no time to spare and if he was wrong about this they might just lose her.
“I know,” he lied, trying to mask his true feelings.
Morgan sighed, seeing through Reid’s weak façade. No matter what he said or did, it hadn’t stopped his legs from bouncing or his hands from shaking.
The moment they arrived, Reid was fast to get out of the van. Too enthusiastic about rushing in headfirst to save her. He glanced around, taking in the fresh air as if his lungs had been deprived for hours.
“Spread out and search the area,” Hotch ordered and the team nodded, checking their vests one last time before pulling out their guns for the sweep.
They searched almost everywhere but found nothing. No sign that y/n or the unsub had ever been there. It was just a Marina and none of the boats there were big enough to fit the room they’d seen in the video.
Reid was beginning to believe that he really was wrong, that he had just wasted time they didn’t have on a hunch. Well, he was beginning to lose hope until Rossi called the team over to his location.
With a fast-beating heart, Reid ran as fast as he could manage to see what Rossi had found. He prayed it was her and that she was safe — that it was over.
Disappointment was not quite the right word for his feelings when he arrived and saw she wasn’t there because something was there. Another note, written in that same red marker.
“‘So you figured it out. Well done, agents. I hate to disappoint but your missing agent isn’t here but I hope this gift will help keep you on the trail’?” Rossi read the letter aloud before turning it over to find a USB taped to the other side.
“He’s playing with us.” Morgan shook his head, already growing tired of the unsub’s game.
“Or testing us,” Reid argued, “He’s referred to us as ‘agents’ in every note so far. It’s like he’s-”
“A part of the bureau,” Hotch finished for him, drawing the same conclusion, “Likely an ex-agent or even an ex-recruit.”
Morgan’s brow creased and he asked, “By why us? Why is he testing us? And why did he take y/n? He could have taken any one of us, why her?”
“Because she’s the newest member of the BAU. Maybe he doesn’t see her as an official member of the team yet?” Queried Reid.
“Or he just thought she’d be the easiest to abduct because she’s less experienced,” Rossi added.
“Whatever the reason, we don’t have a lot of time. The unsub must have had base access to use the marina. Reid, Morgan, I need you to speak with the workers here. See if they’ve seen anyone strange and ask for records to find out who owns this boat. We’ll head back to check in with the rest of the team and get this to Garcia.” Hotch held up the USB, knowing Garcia was the safest person to give it to as there was no way to know what would be on it.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Anything?”
“No, you?”
Reid shrugged. “Not much but I did get a name for the boat owner. Rudd Richardson.”
“Did you run it by Garcia?”
“Yeah, Rudd Richardson died three years ago.”
Morgan hummed in thought. “So our unsub is using a dead man’s name?”
“Maybe. Garcia is looking for any other property that is still registered in his name but she hasn’t been able to find anything yet and it doesn’t look like the unsub has taken Richardson’s identity.”
Their discussion was cut short when Reid’s phone began to ring.
“Garcia?”
He shook his head, looking up from his phone in disbelief. “No. It’s y/n.”
Right away Morgan pulled out his cell to call Garcia. If it really was y/n or even the unsub they would need her to trace the call.
“Y/n?” Questioned Reid as he put the phone on speaker, his voice already settling into a tone of urgency.
The line was silent but the trace had already begun, all they needed to do now was keep them on the phone.
After a brief moment of static, a weak voice finally spoke from the other side, “Reid?”
“Y/n! Y/n, can you tell us where you are? Are you alright?” He spoke at a hundred miles a minute, desperate to know she was okay.
Static again as the phone on the other end seemed to move from one ear to another.
The young doctor gulped as another voice began to speak, “She knew you would figure it out… The first clue. Let’s see how quickly you figure out the rest. The sands of time are forever slipping…”
The voice was dark and warped, spoken through a voice-changing device. Its sinister vibrations sent a chill up Spencer’s spine.
“Wait! Y/n!”
“Dammit,” Morgan spoke bitterly, knowing the call had not been long enough to give them any hint on their location, “He’s taunting us.”
“We need to get back to the others. He said this was the first clue, the USB must be the next.”
Morgan sighed. “We have to play his game. Or we may never find her…”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Please tell me you guys have got something,” Morgan asked while looking down at his watch.
There was still time but there was no way to know if the unsub would stay true to his word.
“Nothing yet. The USB locked Garcia out of the system the moment she plugged it in, she’s trying to regain access now,” JJ explained with a sigh before turning her attention back to the files in her hands.
Reid was only growing more anxious and began fishing for anything else that could be of use. “What about the video?”
“Nothing. We’ve watched it a hundred times but there’s nothing in it that could tell us where they are.” Prentiss chimed in as she too walked over with a new batch of files.
“So what do we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for Garcia to get the system up and running again.”
JJ split the files he was holding into three before passing a pile out to Reid and Morgan. “I know you’re worried, Spence. We all are but there isn’t a lot we can do right now. Until she gets back in all we really can do is look at these files to see if anyone fits the profile.”
“Profile? We’ve got a profile?” Morgan questioned as he began to flick through the files.
“Well, Hotch told us you think it’s an ex-agent or recruit but other than that we don’t really have a lot to go on so right now we’re just looking for anyone that sticks out.”
Reid dropped the files down onto the desk with a scoff, “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“It’s better than sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” Morgan shrugged.
“Look, Reid, if you don’t want to look through the files then go help Hotch and Rossi. They’re looking for anywhere she could be being held. Warehouses, storerooms, abandoned homes. Look for anything and everything and start making it down.”
He only grew more frustrated as he listened to Prentiss. “So if we run out of time we’re just going to start knocking on doors until we find her?”
“We don’t really have any other choice right now. Not until Garcia gets back into the system. He’s testing us, right? So this is probably just another test. She’s got this.”
Like Morgan, Reid also had full faith that Garcia would get back into the system but he was worried about how long it would take her to do so. They were on the clock and every second they spent sitting around waiting for her would only bring them closer to their deadline.
So, to try and ease his mind, Spencer decided to go help Hotch and Rossi in the hope that it would help bring them closer to finding y/n.
𓆩♡𓆪
“I’m back in. I’m back in!” Garcia cried out and soon the team were rushing into her office.
It had been no longer than an hour but that was still an hour they didn’t have to spare in the first place.
She tapped away on her keyboard, eyes flickering across the screen at the speed of light as she searched for any trace of what the unsub had tried to achieve by locking her out of her own system.
“He’s watching us,” she announced when her tapping fingers finally began to calm down, “I don’t think I can remove him from the system, not from my end anyway. I had to reboot the whole thing just to get back in. It’s amazing he’s even still here.”
“So he can see everything we do?” Rossi questioned, wanting to know exactly what the unsub was able to do with his access to the system.
Garcia hummed, “Yep. Well, he can see through our webcams but he doesn’t have access to my screen. That was a nasty piece of malware but it won’t give him access to any of my files.”
Just as Hotch opened his mouth to speak, a notification sound rang from the speakers and a message popped up on the screen. It was typed out rather than written but the red colour still prevailed.
‘Well done, Agents. You’ve cracked the code and earned your next clue: I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?’
“Love… the answer is love,” Reid announced with a tightening heart.
“But what does that mean? Love, what kind of a clue is that?” Morgan complained, once again growing tired of the game they were being forced to play.
Prentiss hummed in thought for a moment before asking, “What about wedding venues? A church maybe?”
“Or some kind of date spot? A restaurant?” JJ added.
Before long, everyone was throwing out ideas but nothing was clicking.
Hotch was the first to catch onto the lead again. “Garcia, see if Mr Richardson was married.”
“Okay.” The tech-whiz complied and began tapping away on her keyboard again.
Within only a few short seconds she had her answer. “He married Triss Anderson in 1984 but she died during childbirth over twenty years ago.”
“What about their child?” Morgan prompted, drawing at any loose threads.
Her eyes flicked over the screen again as she searched for the information. “They had a daughter. She’s living here in Quantico, only a few blocks away from here actually.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
𓆩♡𓆪
“No car,” Prentiss stated as they approached the house.
Rossi stepped up to the door while Reid and Morgan peered in through the windows.
“Look’s like no one’s home,” Morgan sighed.
Still, Rossi tried the door. “Miss Richardson?”
When no response came, he banged again.
“You’re looking for Jen?” They turned around to the neighbour, eager to hear what she had to say. “She left for vacation just over a week ago. I’m Michelle, I live across the street. Maybe I can help you?”
“Do you know when she’s supposed to come home?” Reid questioned, worried they had wasted their time.
Michelle thought for a moment before replying, “Actually, now that you mention it I think she was due back last night.”
“So she hasn’t come home?” Asked Prentiss as she hurriedly pulled out her phone.
“No, I guess not. You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?”
As Rossi began to reassure Miss Richardson’s neighbour, the others quickly headed back to the van.
Prentiss held her phone to her ear, exchanging a worried glance with Morgan as she spoke with the unit chief, “Hotch, we might have another missing person on our hands.”
“Are you Spencer Reid?”
Spencer turned from the van just before opening the door to find a young boy standing behind him.
“Yeah, you know me?”
The child shook his head and shyly held out a piece of paper and pointed down the street with his free hand. “That man over there told me to give this to you.”
As he took the paper, Spencer quickly looked in the direction the boy was pointing but whoever may have been there had long since gone.
“Thank you, kid. Get home safe now, okay?” Morgan had to speak for him while Reid examined the note.
“It’s an address, Morgan. He’s given us an address.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Wasting no time, the group headed for the address on the note. Garcia ran it through the system and found it to be an empty home, one currently up for sale.
It was the perfect place for the unsub to hold them, although Morgan still doubted the nature of the note. It didn’t make sense for him to just give them the answer now. Not after making them jump through hoops to so much as obtain a single clue.
“Reid, wait,” he reached out for the youngest, holding him back from rushing straight inside, “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.”
“We can’t wait, what if y/n is in there?” Reid was quick to shake him off, desperate to find her.
Morgan sighed as he pulled out his gun. “The unsub could be in there too, just don’t do anything rash.”
Spencer was the first to the door. He stood ready as Morgan exchanged one quick, affirmative glance with Rossi before kicking down the door.
In the blink of an eye, all four agents infiltrated the home and began to cautiously clear each room.
“Clear!” Prentiss called out from the bathroom as Morgan and Reid began to scale the stairs.
She slowly approached the bedroom, knowing it was the last room to check. If they were going to find anything, it was going to be in there.
When Morgan and Reid were close enough behind her to have her back, she reached for the handle and quickly opened the door.
She checked every corner of the room before giving the all-clear but something was wrong. Her voice was quiet, choked even, as she entered the room.
Morgan turned to Reid, not knowing what to do other than keep him away to stop him from looking inside but he was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them inside.
“Y/n? Y/n!” he cried as he rushed towards the room, shoving past Morgan who moved to stop him.
In the middle of the empty room was a body. A woman wearing clothes Reid recognised. She was lifeless and stained in blood. When his hands shakily reached out to her, he felt the coldness of her skin on the tips of his fingers.
He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.
He got back up, unable to bring himself to look at her face – to turn her over and come face-to-face with her void eyes.
Everything was a blur, all of his senses going dull as Morgan moved to further inspect the body.
Emily too was standing near the door as if she were frozen in place with her hand covering her mouth.
Slowly, Morgan rolled the body over onto its back. He was quiet, almost too quiet, before he finally released the breath he had been holding.
“It’s not her.”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Jena Richardson, daughter of Rodd Richardson. A twenty-six-year-old entrepreneur. She was supposed to go on vacation to Europe eight days ago,” Garcia read through the information she had discovered about the woman.
“He chose her for a reason. He did all of this for a reason. Been planning it for a while too.”
Hotch hummed in agreement with Morgan. “He took Miss Richardson before she had a chance to leave for her vacation, she never left. Her bags are likely still inside her home.”
“And when he took y/n, he stole some of her clothes to dress the victim in so that we would think it was her. That’s why he chose the victim… because she looked like y/n,” Prentiss concluded.
The whole team had gathered in the briefing room again, discussing their next course of action.
“There was nothing else on the body or in the house? No next clue? Nothing to tell us where he might be holding her?” Hotch questioned, hopeful that there would have been something — anything.
Prentiss shook her head. There was nothing. Nothing at all. They had searched everywhere. Every single inch of that house but there was nothing there. Nothing but the body.
“Then we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, maybe the unsub left a clue for us there.”
“No, we don’t have time to wait. We only have a few hours left. There has to be something we’re missing.” Reid began to pace the room, running through everything they’d discovered so far in his head.
“Reid,” Morgan began, “We’ve run out of options but we still have time.”
The young doctor only began to shake his head, his eyes glaring in disbelief that his team could even suggest to sit around and wait while y/n was in danger. “No, we don’t. We have hours and if we just keep sitting around waiting she’s going to die.”
Just like that, he was storming out of the briefing room and, while Hotch gave new directions to the rest of the team, JJ jumped up to go after him.
“Spence!”
“If you’re just going to tell me to sit tight and wait like everyone else you’re wasting your breath.”
She understood how he was feeling because she knew how he felt about y/n. She knew it was a fool's errand trying to calm him down or convince him everything was going to be alright. All she wanted to do was be there for him when hope began to fade.
“Where are you going?”
He tugged at his collar, his fingers moving to loosen his tie in a desperate attempt to breathe. “I need some air.”
She let it be as he rushed through the bullpen, heading straight for the elevator. If she had left a moment earlier, she wouldn’t have heard the sound of a text coming through on his phone as the elevator doors began to close.
His eyes widened as he read the message, one that had come through from her: ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Love? When you lose the thing you love, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to be reunited with it. That’s what I did, you know. I reunited Miss Richardson with her beloved father. Now I’m giving you the chance to be reunited with the one you love, so long as you come alone.’
Another text came through by the time he reached the bottom of the building. Another address.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Where’s Reid?”
JJ looked up from her paperwork and glanced out into the bullpen. “He’s not back yet?”
Morgan frowned. “No. Where did he go?”
“He said he needed to get some air but he should have been back by now,” she explained as she stood up, realising what had happened, “Shit.”
“What?”
“He got a text before he got into the elevator.”
Morgan was already half out of the room by the time she finished her sentence. “The unsub.”
The two of them all but ran to the rest of their team, already gathering their things to leave as questions started flooding in.
“Reid’s gone after him,” Morgan announced as the rest of the team gathered their equipment and began to head for the door.
“Alone?” Prentiss furrowed her brows, she had hoped he would have known better than that.
JJ stuttered, still in disbelief, “H-He said he was just going outside to get some air.”
Hotch was already pointing Garcia back into her office before she’d even made it through the door. “Garcia I need you to find Reid’s car. Tell us the moment you know what direction he was headed.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Everyone was in hyperdrive, working against the clock to find Reid and y/n before it was too late. They were already in the SUVs, splitting into two groups before they even had any information on where he was going.
𓆩♡𓆪
There he stood, outside a property that they never would have even considered including during their search for it was not empty or abandoned but rather a home. A home that seemed well lived in from the moment he stepped inside.
No one was there. Not a single soul. Yet every surface was decorated with family pictures. A mother, father and son. A happy family.
From the photos, the son seemed to be no older than four and all Reid could do was hope nothing bad had happened to him or his family.
With his gun raised, he slowly made his way through the house until he reached the door he was looking for — the door to the basement.
Quietly, he descended into the darkest depths of the house. The stairs barely made a creak and, by the time he could see into the room, he saw her.
“Welcome, Doctor Reid.”
The man was standing beside her, face half-hidden in the shadows. He had a knife and held it firmly near her stomach in a silent threat.
“Let her go,” Reid demanded, although when the unsub did not budge, he opted for negotiation over immediate violence.
Stepping from the shadows, the unsub revealed himself. Reid recognised him the moment the dull light illuminated his features. He was the father in the photos upstairs but he was older now and more unkept than he appeared in the pictures.
“I don’t know what happened to your family but please, you have to let her go,” he pleaded again, eyes flickering over to y/n.
Other than the injuries she had sustained during the abduction, she seemed okay but he noticed how weak she seemed. Her injuries were not bad enough to be the cause of her drowsy state. The unsub may not have harmed her further but it seemed likely she had been drugged.
“Reid…” she spoke in a quiet voice, her hooded eyes barely open as she looked at him, struggling to lift her head.
The unsub looked between them with a smile as if he was truly happy to see them this way. “Young love, isn’t it so precious?”
“What do you want?”
“Me? No, this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want,” the unsub looked at y/n as she stood half-dangling beside him and pointed, “Her. You want her, don’t you?”
Reid raised his gun again, finger resting on the trigger the moment the man drew closer to her.
“You lost your family,” he stated, gaining the unsub’s attention once again, “Your wife and son. You lost them, didn’t you?”
Hesitantly, the man nodded. “They were taken from me, just as she was taken from you. In the night while I was away.”
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt her. It won’t bring them back.”
“Oh, but I do. When I sent my case to the BAU, you turned it down. It wasn’t a serial killer or a professional hit. Just a burglary gone wrong. I was at work when it happened, out late on the job. I wanted to join the FBI, you know? I was a recruit.”
The more he explained, the more Spencer began to understand. The unsub’s connection to the BAU, and the resentment he held for them. The loss of his family had driven him to his breaking point and he blamed them for not finding the killer.
Why had he taken y/n? Well, it wasn’t because she was a newer member of the BAU or because she was less experienced than the others but because somehow he knew. He knew how Spencer felt about her and he wanted to show a member of the BAU the same pain he felt when he lost his family.
“Please, just put the knife down. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
The unsub held the knife tighter than before, raising it to her neck. “Oh, but it does. I want you to do it. I want you to reunite me with them. Send me to them, please. If you refuse, I’ll take her from you just as they were taken from me.”
Reid shook his head, refusing to play his twisted game any longer. “Put the knife down.”
“I hoped it could have been different.”
Time seemed to move in slow motion as the unsub lifted his arm, angling the knife back onto her abdomen as he swung it down.
“No!”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Garcia, you’re sure he’s here?”
The technical analyst hummed over the line. “Positive.”
“I see his car,” JJ announced as she climbed out of the SUV, already rushing toward the house.
The team approached the building with caution, not wanting to rush in and startle the unsub into doing anything rash. They knew Reid was inside but they didn’t want to put him in any more danger.
Only, before they even reached the front door, they heard a gunshot and all caution flew to the wind as Morgan kicked down the door and burst inside.
They cleared each room before reaching the entrance to the basement and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, all guns were aimed at the door. They stood their ground, ready for whatever they were to face but when the door finally opened, all anyone could do was breathe a sigh of relief.
“Reid!” Morgan was by his side the moment he stepped through the door with her in his arms.
Hotch saw the spattering of blood that stained her clothes and looked into his eye. With just an exchanged glance, he knew what had transpired.
The unsub was dead. It was finally over.
Despite Morgan’s offer for help, Spencer carried her all the way outside to the paramedics. He stayed with her still as they lifted her into the ambulance. She was out of it, barely aware of what was going on.
“Go with them, we’ll meet you there.”
Reid offered a subtle nod to his unit chief, thankful that he was allowing him to accompany her to the hospital.
𓆩♡𓆪
Quiet beeps echoed through the room, the sound of the monitor that continued to track the beats of her heart.
Reid sat waiting, hands fidgeting as he bounced his leg.
“The doctor said she’s going to be fine, relax a little,” Morgan comforted with a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder.
The youngest glanced up at his friend before his eyes flickered back over to her. “I can’t relax. Not until she wakes up. Not until I know she’s okay.”
From the moment the doctor had told them it was okay to wait with her in her room, Spencer had been by her side. The time he had spent in the waiting room before was agonising and he had felt relief when the doctor told them she just needed time to recover. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her, not when he had been through something similar before. Kidnapped, tortured, and drugged.
He was thankful this unsub had seemed to skip the torture but he could still sympathise with how she was feeling. She had been taken from her own home. He could only imagine how scared she must have been.
When she finally began to stir and her eyes finally fluttered awake, he was on his feet again. “Y/n? How are you feeling?”
Morgan chuckled, “Come on kid, give her a second to wake up before you jump her with questions.”
Spencer was already holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of it as he smiled.
“Spence?”
He nodded as she slowly came to, squeezing her hand a little just to make sure she knew he was really there — that she was safe now.
“I’ll go let the others know she’s awake,” Morgan excused himself, leaving the two of them to talk alone.
“What… What happened?”
He gulped and stuttered slightly as he answered, “Y-you were kidnapped.”
She closed her eyes again and nodded, recalling the events that had transpired as well as she could remember them. “You saved me. Thank you.”
With a small smile, he nodded.
It was quiet for a moment and all she could focus on was the warmth of his hand. Soon, he too realised he was still holding her hand and quickly let go as he cleared his throat to speak.
“So, how are you feeling?” he repeated his earlier words, eager to hear how she was holding up.
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? Like shit. My head is killing and I think I might still be a little high.”
Spencer was now the one laughing at her remark, thankful that she was well enough to make light of the situation. “Yeah, that’s probably the painkillers the doctor gave you. Must be a pretty bad concussion if your head is still hurting.”
“Yeah, well it could have been a lot worse…”
The mood soured again with her words as the two of them were reminded of just how badly things could have gone had Reid not found her when he did.
“I knew it was going to be okay, you know. When I saw you I just… I knew I was safe.”
Though she smiled, it was her eyes that conveyed all he needed to know. Everything she’d never spoken aloud, everything she wanted to say but could never bring herself to do so. It was the first time he’d truly felt it, the way she felt for him. The first time he’d realised that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.
A test of faith had brought them together, breaking the boundary between them.
Spencer stepped closer again, leaning towards her as he took her hand in his again. With his other, he brushed her hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin as time froze still.
Their quiet moment together would soon be broken when the door opened and the rest of the team flooded in to see how she was but, for just one moment, they were the only two people in the world.
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taglist: @sweetpeapod @regulus-black-223048 @nsxthoughts
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kaiserthread · 4 months
Text
shopping spree
clothes/accessories the bllk boys buy you! characters: sae, kaiser, reo content: pro players, established relationship, f!reader, fluff lowkey my first time writing anything romantic so this might be ooc, was giggling soooooo hard while writing this part 2 here!
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ITOSHI SAE - wool coat
took one look at you shivering and thought NO
buys you a nice wool coat for the winter months
he’s always giving you his when you guys are out together, might as well have your own for when he’s away 
he sprays a bit of his cologne on it when he knows he’s going to be away from you for a while
sae worries about you, he hates when you're upset, hates when you get hurt, and most of all he hates seeing you in the cold and shivering because you refuse to wear a jacket that isn’t his. this brings him to his current predicament, he’ll have to leave you to go to training camp in the winter. “just don’t go, sae. who’s jacket am i going to wear?” you whine dramatically, draping yourself over the pile of clothes he's currently placing into his travel bag. “get off, I need those.” sae scolds. “and you have your own jackets.” “but they’re so much better when they're yours.” you pout at him. he sighs, knowing he’s already lost this battle. the morning he leaves is gloomy. he leaves early, waking you to kiss you goodbye and shushing you back to sleep. as you’re leaving you find a note on the hall closet, sae’s handwriting reminding you to grab a jacket. you open the closet to find a brand new wool coat, almost identical to his. you pull it on and catch the familiar scent of his cologne. reaching into the pocket you find a handwritten note that reads: for whenever you miss me, i love you darling
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MICHAEL KAISER - jewelry
the possessive type honestly, takes note of your preferred metal and buys you a thin chain with a delicate ‘M’ on it 
a charm bracelet with a blue rose charm
a dainty sapphire anklet to show off during the warm summer months
takes every excuse to buy you some new bling
michael comes home after practice with a familiar looking gift bag. he sets it down on the coffee table and kisses your cheek in greeting, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sits down next to you on the couch. “is that for me?” you gesture to the bag in front of you, “what’s the occasion?” you ask as michael leans against you, “practice wasn’t as long as usual so I got to come home to you earlier.” he reaches for the bag and takes out a slim box. you open it and find a sleek new bracelet, perfectly complimenting the others stacked on your wrist. “thank you mihya, it’s beautiful!” you exclaim, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “but seriously, did i forget something? you can tell me.” he pushes himself up to kiss you, his breath warm on your lips as he whispers, “no my love, let me spoil you, it’s the least you deserve.”
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MIKAGE REO - louboutin red bottoms
okayyyyy go rich boy!
but seriously he wants to give you the best of everything including something as simple as a pair of heels
so he buys you a pair of 100mm pumps in both the beige and black colorway
watched you struggle walking in them for .5 seconds before putting in an order for a pair with a lower heel
“are you sure you’re comfortable in those? let me order a pair with a lower heel.” reo is seriously worried that you’re going to trip and break your face trying on the gift he bought you. “babe seriously, it’s fine. i’ll break them in, put your phone down, are you seriously ordering another pair?!” you exclaim, moving over towards him to try to grab the phone out of his hand. reo is having none of it, taking advantage of the fact that your new heels are throwing you off balance to run off into the ensuite bathroom to place the order. he walks back into the room to find you sitting on the edge of your shared bed, arms crossed and pouting. he moves in front of you to kiss the pout off your lips, “angel don’t worry about it, that money is nothing to me. i want you to be comfortable.”
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libraryofloveletters · 5 months
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The Right Way To Do It 
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Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader
Warnings: it's ferrari!seb of course - he's the most husband, seb's so picky and reader is over it, one childish joke about balls, seb's a little OCD about his ornaments, some playfully husband and wife bickering.
Word Count: 695
Author's Note: welcome to my holiday extravaganza series! are we shocked im starting with seb? no :) I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I as do!!
--
Sebastian is the most meticulous person you've ever met in your life, and yes, that also translates to Christmas tree decorating. 
The 8 foot tree stood strong and tall in the middle of the window. You stood back a few feet, looking up at it in all its glory. The boxes of ornaments you had Sebastian lug up from the basement were scattered on the couches and the coffee table.
How are you ever going to get this done?
You took inventory of all the ornaments you had, making sure you had even amounts of the colours before you began hanging them on the tree.
Starting from the bottom, you rotate the colours every few ornaments. It took you a few tries and a lot of reshuffling before you were satisfied with it.
"That's not how it's supposed to go," he calls as he walks into the living room, dropping himself down into an empty space on the couch.
Kneeling on the floor to put the ornaments on the bottom branches, you shift to look at your husband. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," he nods, eating a bit of the popcorn you had made to string and put on the tree. "It's supposed to be red, gold, green. Not red, red, gold, green, red. That's messy, babe."
"Instead of nitpicking, why don't you just come do it yourself?" You huffed, turning your attuning back to the tree.
Sebastian liked to annoy you, picking at things just to raise your blood pressure. You often bit back, much to his amusement.
He liked it when you got feisty with him. He never took you seriously, not until today.
His warm hands rested on your shoulders, carefully shifting you off to the side as he started to rearrange the ornaments you had hung. "Seb, are you serious?"
"As serious as a heart attack, baby." He smiles at you, then turns to the ornaments you had scattered on the living room floor.
Sebastian starts muttering under his breath, his fingers moving 100 miles an hour as he sorts through something in his head. You looked at the man, watching in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
"Counting."
"Counting.. what?"
"Balls."
You snickered at his response. "You're counting.. balls?"
He rolls his eyes, "we need to go to the store." Your brows furrow and he senses the lack of understanding, as if you were missing a piece of the puzzle, and that you were. "We need more green, let's go."
Much to your displeasure, your husband drags you out into the cold. He promised to buy you one of those hot chocolates you liked from the stand outside of the store before you went home and that he did.
Five massive shopping bags in hand; Seb picked up anything from ornaments to throw pillows to Christmas candles.
He had a habit of losing his mind when the holidays rolled around.
After you two finally made it home, Sebastian instructed you the order in which you had to hand him the ornaments; red, gold, green, red, gold, green - in that exact order.
You huffed and grumbled, handing him the ornaments as he moved around the tree, saying that you could have done the same thing. Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes at you, reminding you that you don't have to help if you don't want to and as much as you'd love to stop, you knew Seb would get distracted and leave the tree halfway decorated.
It took an hour and a half, a trip to the store and a bit of bickering but the tree was finally done.
You stood up, watching as Seb steps off of the stool, the star sitting perfectly straight on the top. His hand rests on your lower back, pulling you into his side.
"Perfect, isn't it?"
You roll your eyes, "I would have done the same thing, Sebastian."
"Not the way I'd do it, though." He teased, nudging your hip with his. You find yourself rolling your eyes yet again, something you did often in the presence of your husband.
"Yeah, sure." Your hand resting on his jaw, your thumb brushing over his soft skin - he finally shaved, an early Christmas gift for you - you lean into your husband, reaching up to kiss him. "Whatever you say, Seb."
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foodpackaging04 · 20 days
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sturniolos-blog · 3 months
Note
dad!matt but reader is struggling w an ed while going thru pregnancy..?
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Eating disorder - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot
warnings - eating disorder (don’t read if you’re not comfortable,) throwing up, sad, fluff, self consciousness, insecurity, mentions of a handjob, slight arguing
disclaimer: first person POV
—————————
1:24pm
It was hard for me, to be pregnant and barely see her husband.
It was harder to see women he was friends with that was the definition of beauty.
All of it was hard.
As I stood at the kitchen island, staring at the to go box of food Matt had left for her before he’d gone to work.
I got this from Buffalo Wild Wings, I know you’ve been craving spicy stuff. Love you so much, baby(s) -Matt
The note read, I wanted to crack a smile, dive in to the food. But I couldn’t, my mind didn’t let me.
You’re not supposed to eat. You’re already gaining enough weight with the baby. Matt’s not gonna know, throw it out, pig.
My thoughts ran wild and mean. I didn’t particularly think i was a big person, I definitely wasn’t skinny but I also definitely wasn’t fat, maybe a couple pounds “overweight.” But the expectation nowadays want you to be perfect or else you’re not good enough.
I let out a sigh, picking the to go box up and bringing it to the trash, shoving the box in the bottom of the trash, knowing that if Matt saw the box in the trash he would freak.
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8:48pm
The rest of the day consisted of me sleeping on the couch, or watching TV. Getting up to wipe counters and vacuum occasionally, but otherwise just not doing anything else. Not like being 7 months pregnant was easy.
I scrolled through the channels with a bored look on my face, my hand holding my head up as my elbow was propped on the arm of the couch.
The door opened and Matt came in, holding another bag of food, with a big smile plastered on his face.
I internally sighed, guilt already eating away at me.
“How are both my babies?” Matt laughed, taking his shoes off and placing the bag of food on the coffee table before kneeling on the couch over me and kissing me softly.
He pushed into the kiss a little more before pulling away with a big smile, “Hi, pretty girl.” He whispered.
There it was again, pretty. That word, was he saying that because I’m his baby mama? Is he saying that because he doesn’t want me to be insecure? Or is he saying that be-
“Hey..” Matt grabbed my chin, making me look at him as he sat down regularly on the couch. “You okay?”
I picked at my ear and nodded, “I’m fine.” I said, pulling my hand away from my ear.
Matt let out a laugh and shakes his head, “You pick at your ear when you’re nervous or lying, so what is it? Am i making you nervous or am i being lied to?” He taunted.
I scoffed, my hand going to pick at my ear again but i caught my self, placing my hand in my lap. “Sorry, i’m fine. This baby just keeps pushing on my bladder, speaking of I have to use the bathroom.” I let out a short laugh, struggling to get up.
Matt stood up and helped me, “Okay, well I got in n out because I know you’ve been craving burgers lately.” He said, kissing the side of my forehead.
I shook my head, picking my ear once again but this time he didn’t notice as he started taking the burgers out of the bag. “Uh- i actually made a sandwich like twenty minutes ago so i’m not really hungry.” I said nervously, picking at my fingers.
Matt nodded, “That’s fine, baby. Now go use the bathroom before we have another accident like last week.” Matt teased.
I let out a scoff, “Screw you! I told you I had to go but you insisted on me giving you a ha-”
“Okay! Okay, go.” Matt cut me off as he let out another laugh.
—————————
9:57pm
I lathered lotion on my hands as i stood in front of the mirror in Matt and I’s room, smearing some on my neck and chest.
Matt came in with his hair wet, shirt off with sweatpants, coming up behind me and kissing the back of my neck, then kissing my cheek. His hand going to my belly, squeezing softly.
I smiled before he pulled away starting to get into bed as I started to put some overnight cleanser on my face.
“You sure you’re not hungry, n/n? I know you get hungry later at night now.” Matt urged on as he got comfy under the sheets.
I shook my head, “No that salad I had really filled me up.” I laughed, starting to get into bed.
Matt gives me a weird look, “I thought you had a sandwich.” He points out.
Shit.
“I had a sandwich and a salad so i’m extra full, can we drop it?” I snapped, not meaning to but it just came out.
“Alright, alright.” Matt said as i climbed into bed.
I turned off the lamp, the room going silent.
“Can we cuddle?” Matt whispered.
I let out a sigh, putting my arms out for Matt.
He immediately crawled into my touch, his head going onto my chest as his hand rubbed my belly, a gesture i used to hate, because i was fat.
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8:34am
I wake up slowly, letting out a soft groan as i open my eyes. I let out a hum as i turn my head, looking over to see Matt’s head on his pillow, his face towards me as he slept.
His pink lips were slightly parted as he continued to take slow, unconscious breaths.
He was laying on his stomach as his arm was draped right under my pregnant belly.
I smiled before slowly removing his arm. He let out a small hum before he started to wake up.
“Mm.. good morning.” Matt said with his sleepy, morning voice.
“Sorry.. i didn’t mean to wake you up.” I apologized as I stood up.
Matt shook his head, indicating it doesn’t matter. He then gives me a confused look, “Where are you going?” He said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Bathroom, I told you this baby of yours likes to push on my bladder.” I complained as i started to walk towards the bathroom.
Matt lets out a laugh.
“Shut up!” I yell as I close the bathroom door.
I do my business before standing up, standing at the sink to wash my hands.
My eyes glance down at the water as it runs through my fingers.
The water starts spinning.
I look up to look at myself in the mirror, but I was also spinning, i couldn’t keep focus.
Everything was turning around me as I stumbled and almost lost my buisness. My back hit the door harshly.
“Babe, you okay?” Matt calls out.
I swallow harshly as I try to gain my balance, I try to speak. “M-matt, i think i-”
Thump.
Everything went black.
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10:32am
I slowly blink my eyes open, my body hurting as i regain my conscious.
I let out a groan as I look around, noticing that I was in a hospital room.
“Baby? Hold on, n/n. Wait.” I hear Matt’s voice tell me, putting a hand on my leg.
“What happened?” I croak out.
“Just uh- drink this, sweetheart.” He said, a harsher tone to his voice, putting a cup of water in front of my face with a bendy straw poking out of it.
I bring my lips to the straw, sucking slowly as i swallow, my dry throat getting moist from the water.
I watch as a doctor comes in the room, holding a tablet.
“Y/n! So good to see you awake. Now, let’s talk. I’m gonna ask you a couple questions and i need you to answer truthfully and with full honesty.” She says.
I rub my eyes and nod, moving to sit up, rubbing my head but immediately groaning in pain as i feel a wrap around it, assuming i hit my head when i passed out.
I grabbed Matt’s hand.
“Okay, do you know where you are?”
“Los Angeles Hospital.”
She nodded and smiled, “Good, good. Next, do you know what happened?”
I look away for a second, thinking. “I passed out. Everything got spinny and then went black.” I explained.
She nodded, “Y/n, have you ever suffered from an eating disorder?” She asks.
I look at Matt who’s face turned pale, i shook my head. “Never.”
Matt squeezed my hand.
“Okay, well, Y/n, do you know the reason you passed out?” The doctor asks me, her tucking her hair behind her ear.
I shook my head as I picked my ear. I hear Matt let out a scoff.
The doctor looks at Matt, “Is something wrong, Mr.Sturniolo?”
He shook his head and cleared his throat, standing up. “I’m just gonna go grab something from the vending machine, i’ll be back.”
I held onto Matt’s hand tighter, shaking my head. “Matt, please.” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. I could tell something was wrong.
Matt clenched his jaw, looking at me before he nodded.
“Alright, Y/n, well the reason you passed out is because your labs show you haven’t eaten in a while, which is bad for a normal person, but even worse for a woman carrying a child. You see, your body is giving energy too two living beings, your food is shared, your sleep is shared, everything is shared. So when you don’t eat, it’s not just taking energy from you it’s taking energy from the both of you.” She explains.
“Oh, i just- i don’t- uhm-” I shake my head, not knowing what to say.
“Okay, i can give you two a minute or two to maybe talk and process, and then we can talk about things we have to make sure happens for the future and for your baby girl to be healthy.” The doctor says, walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Mat stands up and starts pacing the room as he bites his thumb nail.
“Matt-”
“Don’t!” He raises his voice. “You were struggling and you didn’t tell me? How could you do that to me? What are we even married for if you won’t tell me things like this?” He yells at me.
“Don’t yell at me! It’s not an everyday thing t-that you struggle with y-your body, a-and that you feel guilty everytime you take a bite of something! So d-do not come at me for not telling you that!” I yell back as my voice cracks.
A guilty look appears on Matt’s face, “I’m sorry. I just wish you would’ve told me. I want us to be able to tell each other things like this, we’re married, y/n. Married.”
I nod and sniffle, “I’m sorry.” I whisper out.
He shakes his head, putting his hand on my cheek as he kisses me softly. “It’s okay, just next time, please tell me.”
I nod and he kisses me again.
—————————
So this is the end hope you liked it idk why it took me so long i’m in another writers block like help anyway hope yall liked
taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs
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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months
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Sympathy for Breakfast
(Part 1)
Time Written - 9:03 p.m
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(Completely unrelated photo it’s just funny to me, also just a silly part 2 for no reason. SFW silly, he stands like this for a majority of this Drabble)
The early rays of morning sun sent an irritating glare of bright light through his mask when he feels a faint rumble, making him instinctively reach for his phone.
You coming home soon?
I have a surprise :)
Love you <3
Jason smiles at the screen, feeling glad that his girl woke up on the good side of the bed. However, he checked the time, slowly growing concerned as to why you were up so early.
The diner the both of you adored on weekends and midnights wasn’t even open yet.
A handful of thoughts course through his tired brain. Some of them concerning, some of them far from appropriate.
“Good morning, Mister Hood.” You smile from your position on the ground as he shuffled himself through the front door, carrying double bagged to-go boxes in hand.
The only comfort he had at this moment, besides the fragrant hot coffee inside the machine pot, was seeing your smiling, well rested expression. Your hair was styled to keep out of your way as your main focus, the ‘surprise’, was the project the two of you had been putting off on for a while.
“Babe, what’re you doing?”
You sat criss cross on the living room floor in front of an ash gray, large convertible crib, newly put together by yourself alone.
“Built the crib! Isn’t it pretty?” You extend your hands out towards the sight, the crib equipped with every detail perfectly in place. All you had to do left was add in the bedding onto the new mattress for your son, and it’s fully finished.
A very special bed for a very special boy, already loved before he’s even born.
“The box weighed a ton.” Was Jason’s first statement as he eyed the empty box and scattered foam borders. He sets his helmet and breakfast on the dining room table, approaching the messy living room.
“It wasn’t heavy,” you quickly state, gesturing your head over towards the corner of the living room, where the box had sat behind the couch for a good three months.
“It was super easy too! What do you think?” You immediately ask, not liking how he was too concerned for everything but the surprise.
Their was a cute, eager glimmer in your eyes as you stared up at him, like a little girl showing off her extravagant art piece. Right there, he understood why you had lately become quite OCD with all the baby’s essentials.
Sorting out all the supplies, washing all the clothes, ordering a new baby blanket set because it didn’t arrive in the shade of teal blue you wanted.
Nesting. You were nesting.
Cute.
“It’s nice,” Jason says, tilting his head as he examines the large crib. How the hell his eight month pregnant sweetheart built this heavy crib all on your own was a full body shiver he tried very, very hard to refrain expressing.
“Yeah, very nice. How’s it, uh… how’s it gonna fit through the door?”
“What?” Your smile slowly drops. “Huh?”
“I mean, it’s pretty wide?” Jason peeks over towards their semi open bedroom door. “I don’t think the crib will fit through…”
You go quiet, looking over at the crib you were proud of merely seconds ago.
“Huh??”
You express once more, noticing this large, extravagantly built crib, with bottom drawers prepared to pack in freshly washed baby clothes, would be a little too wide to push through the bedroom door. Especially with the bed in the way.
“But this took … this took forever!” Your voice held that tremble that Jason suspected would come, making him playfully pout.
“Awww, Princess.” He tried so hard to hold back a smile or laugh, quickly failing behind his gloved palm.
“Don’t laugh!” You yell up at him. “I was so proud of myself! This was the one time we buy something from IKEA, and I didn’t have to second guess the instructions a hundred times! Now you’re saying it won’t fit through the door!”
Cause it won’t. Jason wasn’t cruel enough to voice it, simply gazing down at his love, who hid her face from his view, still perched in the center of empty screw bags, power tools, and ever so finicky foam beads.
As tired as he was from patrol, this topped the cake of interesting things to happen yet.
He wasn’t delighted to see you cry aggravated tears from this daunting realization you completely missed, but the outcome of your hard work at such an early hour… only to be stumped, it’s funny. Jason can’t help that.
His shoulders bounced with his light laughter, settling down in front of his woman, who had exhausted hands covering that pretty face from him.
“S’okay Princess. Crib looks gorgeous, an’ you still possess all fingers and toes. Proud of you, but no more heavy lifting. Alright?”
His soft praise and gentle warning fell on acknowledging ears, but responded to with shameful silence. Jason couldn’t help that you were a little impatient with exciting tasks, he wouldn’t ask you to change that.
It’s like asking him to stop his horrible, eye rolling humor. Or twisted, cruelly timed jokes. It’s impossible.
He softly shushes you, kissing the top of your forehead. His eyes glance back to the crib, overall impressed at how you put it all together so well by yourself.
At the start of living in your own apartment, the both of you took many IKEA dates. Each night ended up in some form of aggravated frustration over a piece of furniture placed wrong, or the irritation of an extra screw from a missing slot once the entire piece was already finished.
“You take your vitamins?” Jason prompts, watching your head slowly shake no, still sniffling behind your hands.
You were too fixated on building the crib and getting everything together, you forgot the key component of a successful pregnancy; to worry about your own health. The biggest of priorities.
Yep. Nesting.
“We’ll eat, take your vitamins, an’ have our food comas. No worries ‘bout the crib mama, I’ll take care of it.”
Jason’s soothing voice was almost enough to settle your nerves, or the mention of food actually.
“Did you go to Benny’s?”
“Mhm. Got your favorite.”
“Can you help me up?” You reluctantly ask, giving him those pink flushed puppy eyes that he couldn’t go against.
“Whatever the lady wants.”
Tired muscles slip underneath your arms, cradling your sides as he helps you up off the ground. Your swollen belly nudges against his abdomen, making his heart melt. He wondered if your manic rush of dopamine woke up his boy, softly smirking at the idea of you chastising your relentlessly kicking son whilst building his future bed.
“Baby boy missed you, by the way.” You say, as if you just read his mind.
God, kill him already. His twice beating heart can’t take much more of this.
“He just wants food,” Jason chides before stepping to the side, letting you slowly waddle to the kitchen.
“We’re all on the same boat, Papa.”
God, please scratch that last thought. He’s in heaven.
Jason’s exhaustion didn’t stop him from nudging you towards your seat, taking the empty mugs from your hands to fill them with Colombian roast.
He wasn’t just being courteous; he was making sure you didn’t have too much caffeine, diluting the majority of your cup with your preferred milk.
After taking those vitamins you needed, Jason finally allowed himself to sit down and rest, too lazy to pull off anything other than his tactical belt and leather jacket.
He watches the love of his life through hooded eyes open your plate, your expression brightening as if you didn’t just sob over the crib mishap. Something he most definitely wasn’t going to mention at a manor dinner about three years from now.
Fluffy blueberry pancakes, piled with fresh fruit and savory sausage on the side. Honey cinnamon butter, and extra syrup. All topped with chocolate chips.
Beside it, an egg white spinach, cheesy omelette. With vegan cheese, for some odd reason. Suddenly, you had as much distain to cheddar and mozzarella, possibly most dairy, as you did to egg yolks in your omelettes.
This was your breakfast, The only meal out of your three meals a day that wasn’t invaded by a strange concoction of spicy pickles or vinegar based hot sauce. Or any other horrible last minute choices.
Something tells Jason that he’s going to see cake eaten for breakfast after the birth for a good while. Not like he’s going to complain, honestly.
Whatever he can do to combat the birthing blues, but that’s a concern for the future.
“Babe.”
“Hm?” You glance up from your plate before you dug in, seeing that same gentle smirk he carried on his face for the past four minutes.
“I was kidding, by the way.” His smile slowly grew the quicker it sets in, expecting to get pummeled by fruit after this;
“The crib will fit through the door.”
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cxsmiicc · 7 months
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fucking florida - emily prentiss x reader
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word count - 1950
warnings - smut, eating out, vibe, office sex, alcohol, mommy kink, begging
first em fic so sorry if it sucks
cr @storiesofsvu for the vegas line i read a dangerous game all in one sitting the other night and it was stuck in my brain
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“Fucking Florida,” you muttered on the way to the coffee machine for your third cup of the night. It was already after twelve and the mountain of paperwork didn’t seem to be getting any smaller. You began the permanent battle to get the ancient machine running and picked out a mug, savouring every second away from the towering files and microscopic print. Almost immediately after the overwhelmingly strong scent whipped through the bullpen a certain unit chief emerged from her office, silver hair dragged back into a haphazard ponytail and top three buttons undone. To say you were obsessed with this woman would be an understatement. Yes, she was your boss and yes, she was majorly off limits, but there was no telling your body that. There was no helping the shiver that ran down your spine when she spoke, the goosebumps that revealed themselves whenever she brushed against you on the jet, the way every little hair on your body would stand on end when she singled you out. In short, you had it bad for Emily Prentiss, with no end in sight.
“Didn’t know anyone else was still here,” she drawled.
“Everyone sane went home hours ago.”
“And who can blame them, look at us. Relying on far too much caffeine just to get us through the paperwork.”
“When in Quantico,” you said with a small smile.
She laughed slightly, picking up the coffee pot and pouring two mugs, “It’s too late for your bad jokes.”
“You’ll have to excuse my lack of comedic genius, I'm exhausted and working on an empty stomach,” you replied, taking one of the mugs from her.
“What! Why?” She asked.
“I’m not a breakfast person to begin with and then with all the chaos this morning and the flight and the paperwork I just haven’t had the time to breathe.”
“I just ordered food, you’re having some of it.”
“Where did you order from this late?” 
She chuckled, “A lady never kisses and tells.”
God you wished she would kiss you. You simply raised an eyebrow and took a sip of your coffee in response.
“It’ll be delivered to my office soon, grab a file and come wait.”
“Exactly what I’ve been craving, yet more blindingly dull reports,” you deadpanned, already heading back to your desk to sweep the top folder into your waiting bag and follow Emily to her office.
Of course you had been in there before, but never so late and never for an extended period of time. It was different, strangely exhilarating, walking through that door and being directed to the low table in the corner, sitting on the carpet and working this closely to another person. The two of you typed in comfortable silence until a knock came and a sheepish college student walked in with a huge brown paper bag.
“Finally, thanks so much,” Emily said to the poor boy, handing him the cash.
“Quick, move the case notes. Just dump them under the table for now.” You did so, pulling them all into a rough pile and quite literally dumping them on the floor under the table. She wasted no time in delving into the enormous bag, pulling out a burger, two boxes of fries and the biggest soda you had ever seen in your life.
“Good job I was hungry,” she joked.
“Fries.” You reached over and snagged a box, grease seeping through the bottom and onto your fingers before you even opened it. “Oh my god that’s good,” you said around a mouthful.
“I have an idea..” She swerved around the table, snatching a fry on the way and walked right out of the room. A minute later she came back in, bottle in hand.
“Rossi’s finest I presume?”
“Only the best for you,” She finished with a devilish grin.
“Glasses?”
“On ne fait que commencer.” And she took a sip straight from the bottle.
Fucking French. You reached over and stole the whisky from her, upending it and barely blinking when the amber liquid hit your throat. 
“Someone has a tragic backstory just waiting to be unlocked.”
“The years of greasy food and crushing loneliness have numbed me to the mundane sensations of everyday life.” 
“Preaching to the choir honey.” She raised the burger to her mouth and took a bite, sighing in content as she did.
The two of you kept eating in not quite silence, the crunching of fries and occasional clinking of the bottle providing the nights soundtrack. Only once all the food had gone and you were both sufficiently tipsy did you come up for air.
“Remind me to tell you I'm starving more often, this is the best time I've had in this building to date.”
“Anything to make some half decent memories in this place, all the bad we see deserves a little alcohol and fast food every now and then.”
“I know something you could do to make this memory more than half decent,” you muttered.
“Oh? Now what, pray tell, could that be?” She feigned confusion and came to sit on your side of the table, resting her head in one hand and looking up at you through her lashes.
“Fuck it.” Both of you leaned in at the same time, lips crashing together and a breathless gasp escaping from you, her hands drifting to your waist and tugging you onto her lap. It was desperate and clumsy and everything you expected it to be, everything you needed it to be. Her tongue pried your lips apart as you explored each others mouths, too desperate for contact to bother with technique. You fumbled with her buttons and she smiled against your mouth, breaking the kiss to pull your shirt over your head and undo the few buttons of her own that you had been unable to access. Breathing hard, you pushed yourself off of her and sat on the table, legs wide and one hand splayed behind you for balance, admiring the view in front of you. Not every day the unit chief of the BAU was shirtless in front of you after all.
Reaching for your belt, she asked, “Can I?”
“God yes.”
She made quick work of both the belt and your jeans, tossing them aside before slowly pulling your underwear all the way down and dropping it, slipping both hands between your thighs and slowly separating them. Lowering her face, she met your eyes and slowly kissed a teasing path from your inner thigh to your clit, stopping just before she made contact. You let out a whimper, already soaked for her.
“Desperate, are we?”
“Less talk more tongue,” You demanded.
Luckily for you, she obliged, wasting no time in wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking hard, dragging a savage groan from the base of your throat. Loosening her hold on your clit, she focused her attention lower down, flicking her tongue briefly in and out before delivering a broad lick to your cunt, finally setting for alternating between the two motions whenever your moans peaked in volume. Bringing her hands into the mix, she drew slow circles around your clit, successfully driving you to the edge as your breathing became faster and faster, the only coherent word coming from your lips being her name over and over in an increasingly high pitch. Her relentless pace never slowed, even as you finally came with a breathy gasp, fucking you through your high.
Dropping back down onto her heels, she smiled at you before reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra, throwing the purple fabric to the corner before grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you back into her lap for another searing kiss, easily parting your lips this time and taking full advantage of your post-orgasmic confusion. The haze clearing somewhat, you became aware enough to dive your hands downwards and play with her chest, flicking her nipples between your fingers and relishing in the soft whimpers falling into your mouth. It was you that pulled away this time, taking one of her breasts into your mouth and swirling your tongue around, eliciting a delicious moan from Emily. You bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, and she let out a squeal of pleasure, pushing you to do more.
Switching your focus to the other side, you repeated the movements, teeth pressing into her soft skin as your tongue worked overtime. Just as she released a particularly loud moan, your fingers forced their way into her waistband and found her clit, jerking it back and forth to the same pace your other hand was setting on the side of her chest not currently in your mouth. She was a mess, to put it nicely, grinding on your hand in a desperate attempt to get herself there. Feeling just how wet she was, you decided to forego any teasing and simply go faster, push her harder, anything to get her over that edge. Twisting your wrist for better access, you pushed both your fingers and tongue to the same brutal speed, stirring raw sounds from the woman above you as she peaked, ruining her formerly perfect suit trousers once and for all. 
Wordlessly, she pushed you off again and crossed to the desk, rummaging in a drawer until she came up with a small silver key. Bending down to where you couldn’t see, she fitted the key in the lock of her bottom drawer and yanked it open, retrieving something without bothering to close the drawer behind her as she walked back towards you, hands behind her back so as not to reveal what she had. The second she was close enough you stood and grabbed her trousers by either hip, meeting her eyes as you removed them. 
“So what is it that you keep locked away in that desk of yours?” You asked.
In response, she smirked and lifted up a bubblegum pink vibrator.
“Let’s see just how many more we can get out of you tonight sweetheart.”
She flipped you around and forced you onto the desk, pushing your legs apart as you whimpered in anticipation. Laughing at your eagerness, she pushed the toy into you, flicking at your clit as she turned it on at the lowest setting and you let out a groan. 
You glared at her. “More.”
“Manners, or mommy won’t do a single thing more. Besides, I bet you look so pretty begging for it.”
Breath hitching at her words, you felt the vibrator slip as you grew wetter, reaching to push it back in only for Emily to grab your wrist. 
“Please…” You muttered.
“I know you can do better than that baby, now come on, tell me what you want.”
“Please mommy please turn it up I need more god just please.”
“Since you asked so nicely…” She trailed off, pausing for a second before pushing the vibrator deeper into you and setting it to max, pulling a guttural gasp from the recesses of your throat.
“That's it princess, let me hear you.”
You held nothing back, letting her tear sounds from you that you didn’t even know you were capable of making for hours until you were both spent, collapsed on the office floor as the first threads of sunlight came through the blinds.
“Fuck Em it’s getting light outside.”
“Shit.”
The room was a blur of motion as both of you hunted for your clothes, her sighing when she saw the state of her trousers and rummaging through her go bag for a fresher pair. 
“Anyone finds out about this and we’re both royally fucked, capisce?”
You beamed at her. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
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pseudowho · 3 months
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Nanami Kento and Higuruma Hiromi are given the same box of IKEA flat-pack furniture.
Kento has a well-organised tool bag, a drill, a tape measure, a spirit level. He reads the instructions through once, slowly, hums, and nods at the end. He builds, methodical, mathematical, flawless. You could build it yourself, of course, but there's something soothing to both of your souls as you watch him, wooly cardigan clutched across your breasts, a cup of tea swirling steam, the sunlight illuminating the dust-motes floating past his shoulders. Kento finds clarity, a slow peace with the world, huffing a soft puff of satisfaction as the drawer-runner glides into place just so.
The result looks professional. He should be employed by IKEA, you think, to put their catalogue pieces together. He is almost disappointed there isn't more to do, having found the experience profoundly therapeutic.
"Where do you want it?" Kento asks you, casually lifting the furniture as if it weighs nothing. You gesture. He carries, positions. Accepts a cup of coffee, pressed into his hands as you grace him with an appreciative kiss.
Higuruma Hiromi had a drill, once. He's certain it's in the same place as those missing keys. Or, the album he's been meaning to listen to for a while? Anyway. You hear cursing and crashing as he rummages through the cupboards, eventually appearing with two pristine, still in their packaging screwdrivers. He reads the instructions step-by-step (but uses the wrong plank of wood for the base anyway, having to double back 6 steps to correct himself), keeps losing his pencil (it's behind his ear, every time), drops pieces on his feet (hopping and swearing), lifts you up and throws you sideways along the sofa, certain the missing screw is under your bottom. He has a glass of wine halfway through, staring out of the window, and asks you, full of solemn despair; "Why is life this way?"
You offer help, concerned by how his hair stands on end, how his shirt has sweat patches, and the look of heated fury in his eyes. The response is almost toddlerish-- "No! I'll do it," he reassures, his voice carefully tempered. You offer him an encouraging smile, now on your 3rd cup of tea, pouring his down the sink and putting the kettle on again. You could build it yourself, of course, but Hiromi has a thirst to prove that he can, and well...who are you to deny him that?
The result? Picasso. It has...character.
"Where do you want it?" Hiromi asks you, dragging it with a concerning grind across the hard floor. You wince, gesturing. He drags, positions. Accepts a cup of coffee, smiling, proud, and pulls you onto one sweaty armpit, nuzzling his shiny hooked nose into your hair.
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Neat Suit/Messy Suit Aesthetics
Hot Anger/Cold Anger Aesthetics
"Get Up!" Fighter/"Stay Down!" Fighter Aesthetics
City-Skyline Penthouse/Converted-Factory Penthouse Aesthetics
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starryeyedjanai · 5 months
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words that are hard to swallow
rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: christmas tags: modern au, christmas gifts, birthday gifts, accidental come ons read on ao3
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Steve doesn't know what to get for Eddie for Christmas so he finds an Etsy shop that does custom candles where you can choose the scent and the message on the candle.
Steve puts in the order note that he’s getting this for someone that probably likes woodsy scents and that the message can be the seller’s choice.
He doesn't look at it before wrapping it because it gets to him a day late in the mail, on Christmas Eve when everyone is exchanging gifts, and he barely has time to wrap it before he leaves to meet everyone for dinner.
Everyone exchanges gifts around the tree after dinner and Eddie pauses for a really long moment when he gets to Steve's gift and it makes him nervous.
Does he not like the scent? A candle seemed like a generic gift that anyone would like, but maybe Eddie is particular about his scents.
A minute passes and then Eddie leans over to say, “We should probably talk later,” before putting the candle back in its box.
Steve follows Eddie to his place after dinner, wondering the entire time if he somehow mortally offended him and when they get inside, he asks, “Did you not like it?”
Eddie says, “I mean, it was a weird time to give that to me, don't you think?”
Steve is confused. A weird time to give him a candle?
Eddie sees his confusion and says, “You have no idea what it says, do you?”
Steve shakes his head. “I told the Etsy shop to surprise me.”
Eddie laughs. “Oh, you’ll be surprised alright.”
He takes the candle out of the box and turns it around.
It reads Light me when you want a BJ.
Steve is obviously mortified.
When he goes back to it later, the Etsy listing was apparently for “Candles for Him, Husband, Boyfriend, 18+ Messages.” He thought it meant there were over 18 messages to choose from.
He sighs and vows to pay closer attention to the listing next time.
The next time he needs a gift for Eddie is his birthday and he really does mean to pick his gift up earlier because he’s known for a while what he wanted to get him. But he lost track of time and then suddenly Eddie’s sending him a reminder about his birthday dinner and Steve still hasn't gotten the gift.
He heads to Target hoping and praying the Lego set Eddie mentioned a few months ago is in stock.
He finds it, luckily, and heads to the card aisle, but he’s pressed for time, so he just grabs one in the birthday section and hopes the message doesn't have anything age specific in it.
The cashier rings him up and places the card face down on the envelope, asking if he wants it in the bag.
He says no and asks if she has a pen because he doesn't have one in his car.
He grabs the pen from her and writes Hope you have a great birthday! on the inside, shoving it into the envelope and into the bag before taking his credit card out of the reader.
He rushes out of the store and is only a few minutes late to dinner.
He tells Eddie he’ll give him his gift at his apartment since he forgot to get a gift bag, so he meets Eddie at his apartment afterwards and brings the Target bag inside.
Eddie is appropriately surprised and happy, wrapping Steve up in a hug when he sees what’s inside the bag.
“You wanna help me put this together?” Eddie asks, and Steve says yes because that’s also part of why he wanted to give it to Eddie here.
They start putting together the set, the Bomber Starfighter, and it takes hours to get even halfway through, so they call it a night and agree to finish it tomorrow.
When Steve shows up a few hours before his shift the next day to finish it, Eddie opens the door with an envelope in his hand—his card must have fallen to the bottom of the bag when they took the Lego set out.
“So I don't know if this was a ‘haha remember the weird candle I accidentally bought’ thing or a come on, but I nearly choked on my coffee this morning when I found this,” Eddie says, letting Steve inside.
“Oh fuck, what does it say?” Steve asks, cringing.
Eddie turns and looks at him. “No fucking way this was an accident. I’d buy that it was a gag card, but there’s no way you picked this up by accident.”
“I was running late and didn't have time to read through the cards in Target. I just went with one that looked plain and simple,” he says.
Eddie hands him the card.
On the front, it says I LOVE YOU FOR YOUR PERSONALITY, BUT THAT D*CK IS A REALLY NICE BONUS.
“Jesus christ,” Steve says. “Why did Target even have this card?”
Eddie snorts. “Either the universe is trying to tell us something or you have supremely bad luck, my friend.”
Steve looks at him and hesitantly says, “Maybe it’s both?”
Eddie looks taken aback. “Yeah?” he asks with a shy smile.
Steve runs a hand through his hair. “I dunno. I was… thinking about it after the last time, with the candle.”
“Thinking about…?” Eddie trails off, looking at Steve's lips, his eyes going dark.
Steve nods, biting his lip.
Eddie takes a step closer and says, “I don't know if you realized, but I lit that candle last night before you got here. It was burning while we were building the Lego set.”
Steve's breath comes a little bit quicker. “I didn't notice that, no.”
“Do you want me to light it again?” Eddie whispers and Steve doesn't even have to think about it before he nods.
They don't end up getting around to building the rest of the Lego set that day.
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