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thatsgoodsquishy0 · 5 months

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Pairing: F!Reader x Ranger!Sam Coe Rating: M+ Bio: Set during Sam’s younger years working as a Freestar Ranger alongside his wife, Lillian Hart. Whether circumstance, or impossible luck, you're given a second chance at life, ultimately growing close to The Coes. You take a shine to Cora, but the family dynamic is something else entirely, albeit a little overwhelming, as you realize the toll Lillian's absence has taken on the family, but more specifically, her husband. Sam Coe is witty, charming, and ambitious; a man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to reach his goals, but when his wife seems to prioritize her career over her family, it's hard not to notice the strain growing inside him. Your friendship may be just the support Sam needs, even if the temptations for something more linger, and when your past threatens your future, where will your morals lie? Will you end up back where you started? Chemistry is a cruel mistress chapter i: Bound cross-posted to AO3 credit of course to the lovely @seraaphiel for keeping the Ranger!Sam spirit alive & @cafekitsune for the divider. special thanks to @fangbangerghoul and @bearlytolerant for literally hyping me up every day to write this fic. your endless support and love inspire me more than you know. and THANK YOU to the readers who've enjoyed this journey so far!! <3

i listened to this song from the Red Dead Redemption II soundtrack pretty much on repeat while writing. it fits the vibe of the chapter, and if you'd like a little extra immersion, feel free to play it whilst reading.

ii. MAN OVERBOARD

You stood beneath the torrent of water, your skin gently scalding as you waited for your body to adjust to the temperature. When it did, you sighed and stared at the shower wall, gaze blank. Your hair felt heavy, weighed down by the stream and caked with blood that was slowly breaking away. You looked down at your feet. Grime and gore snaked through the grout of the tile floor, slipping into the holes of the drain, gurgling as steam enveloped the shower.

Minutes passed. You waited for the water to run clear. Streaks of diluted red flowed down your chest, past your stomach, and in between your legs, reaching the bottom. You lifted your hands, eyes glaring at the bracelets of purple and black wrapped around your wrists. You turned your palms towards the ceiling assessing the rest of your injury, only to find your hands trembling; inflamed with anger. A scream simmered in your throat, ready to boil over. Whether the heat of the water or justified wrath seething within, your face reddened and nostrils flared. Your lips curled as you parted them, ready, but then, you drew a steady breath instead; a warning to yourself to behave, be civil, because this was not your space.

You were a trespasser.

You quickly grabbed for the nearest shampoo bottle and squeezed a handful into your palm, lathered it up, then rocked your hands back and forth against your scalp. Frothy bubbles of red poured down and settled between your toes. You swiped your foot towards the drain, flicking away the bubbles, splashing your soles against the floor. You shivered as the water devolved to luke-warm, and frantically, you scrubbed your skull raw. You closed your eyes. Rinsed. Grabbed another handful of shampoo. Lathered. Scrubbed. Rinsed.

By the time you finished, you felt as though the nerves in your wrist might snap. Your vision blurred by a mix of water and tears, your legs buckled as if they were jelly. You slid back against the wall and curled your legs into your chest as you rested your forehead against the fresh bruises on your kneecaps. Underneath the water with your lips locked, you allowed yourself to cry, tears streaming into the rushing cool. If no one heard you, it would be okay.

You were owed this, and with time, vengeance against him would owe you, too.

Sam

The mission was straight and narrow, albeit improvised, but when it came to the badge, Sam was no stranger to unscripted moments. Hell, he enjoyed spontaneity most of the time, but when an innocent’s life entered the picture, there were strict rules he followed – a code to adhere to; be on the same page. Disagreement was a form of arguing, and arguments led to distractions, and distractions got you killed. Sam lounged back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk and arms crossed against his chest as he waited for Lillian to finish her debriefing with the Marshal. He knew this was coming, still he bit the inside of his cheek. He had every right to that conversation, yet she kept him on the sidelines, as if he were a witness, but maybe it was best that way. Lillian’s memory was exceptional and she’d have a thoroughly combed-through report for Marshal Blake, all the while Sam brushed past details he thought were trivial, like what time the ship was ambushed.

But there was nothing in that report about Sam recognizing the rescued woman.

Weeks ago, he was sitting at the bar nursing his second thumbs worth of whiskey, his attempt at unwinding from the day proving idle as he drank. His hat was warm against his head, the beginning thrums of a migraine settling in. He shut his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. Cora was just getting over a fever, which meant she’d spent more than enough time with Jacob.

He counted — four days. Four days without her. He was stir-crazy, his father’s intuition scratching at his bones as every waking thought flashed to the Coe Estate, little Cora putzing around and Jacob’s manipulative eyes beaming upon her as he planned her entire future. Bet that just got his bastard heart beating with pride thinking she’d carry on the legacy someday -- the dreaded Coe legacy, at least, the one Jacob twisted to fit into his narrative.

Sam’s lips grimaced against the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

His absence was justified (warranted, at least, by his leaders), but one day without his daughter was tough enough. Four days was agony, and Lillian wasn’t much comfort considering the only conversations they seemed to share were Ranger-related.

The Rangers could wipe out every single drug lord in the Settled Systems and Sam still wouldn’t sleep a wink – not without twinges of guilt stabbing him through the night.

He signaled for a third glass of amber liquid, and for a fleeting second imagined the opportunities of fatherhood and marriage away from the Freestar Rangers.

As soon as his drink manifested in front of him, he tabled the thought, thanked the bartender, then lifted the edge of the glass to his lips. He took a burning swig, familiar heat landing in his stomach as he wiped his mouth, and then, he saw her; face plastered on the tv screen, a lifted curve to her lips and a gleaming kindness in her eye — a complete departure from the woman Sam would later carry out of a fried spaceship filled with dead bodies. The camera focused on a plaque sandwiched between her and another adult, some official maybe, outside a storefront.

… but which store was it again?

Sam shook off his recollection, his focus turning to Lillian’s chestnut brown ponytail as it swung to the side as she spoke. Her hip jutted out just a tad; one of the few mannerisms Sam picked up on over the years. His gaze lingered with anticipation, tracing modestly all the ways the ranger’s outfit hugged her body. Some days, he couldn’t believe they were a young married couple fighting the good fight, and other days, it was suspicious; this future he never conceived for himself, laid out by a woman who shared his last name, and was the mother of his child.

Sam guessed she was wrapping up her conversation; the body cue being a slight turn away from the other Ranger, as if her mind were there, but her body was ready to leave. She caught his stare, but offered little more than a cocked eyebrow and neutral gaze. Sam gifted a smile, teeth and all, to his wife as she traveled closer.

“Feet down,” Lillian said, her southern drawl popping out.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam uncrossed his arms as he sat upright in his chair, adjusted his hat. “So, what’d the Marshal have to say?”

“You’re gonna love this. Turns out that ship we ambushed? Stolen. Reported weeks ago. We’ll have to notify the owner of its condition and locale, which unfortunately means more paperwork on our end.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna want it once we tell’em, well, whatever it is we’re gonna tell’em.”

“That won’t be our problem. Marshal said if that woman was found on that ship alive, chances are she’s involved.”

“You don’t think, wrong place, wrong time? Sort of thing?”

Lillian shook her head. “I get the sick feeling they were keeping her for something.”

“Which means there was some serious illegal shit happenin’ on that ship,” Sam stated, his mind recalling what lined the path to the cockpit; dead bodies, ecliptics, … cases of harvested organs.

His stomach churned.

Lillian grabbed a slate from her pocket, pushed a few buttons, then brought the screen closer to Sam.“These were the ship’s last inputted coordinates. I had them downloaded before we left. Once we crack this, we’ll know where they were headed. Hopefully that, plus any information this woman is willing to spill, should give us enough of a lead.”

“You really went the extra mile, Mrs. Coe.” He stood from his chair, closing the distance between them. He traced the outline of her lips, his eyes noting the divot on the top in the middle. He could kiss her now, hell, he wanted to, if not for the active duty reminder on her chest.

“Oh, Sam. I’m just doing my job.”

“And you do it so well,” he replied.

Her smile beamed, as if that was her favorite compliment to hear from him. Sam leaned his palms against the desk, and dropped his head forward, stretching out his neck. “Should I grab us some Terrabrew?” A longing in his heart guided him closer, practically breathing her own air as the gravel in his voice barely whispered. “Could be a long night.”

“I’m alright, thanks.” She grabbed his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Shouldn’t be a long night if she cooperates,” Lillian said.

Sam’s hands itched to grab her waist, but his restraint knew better. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll have to use oppressive measures.”

He pressed his lips together immediately, words backpedaling against his tongue.“I — um, I thought we weren’t gonna go that route. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

“That was before she became a possible suspect, Sam. Don’t go soft on me now.”

“Ain’t going soft on you, but we gotta look at it differently. If we go in there yelling and screaming at her, she’s gonna clam up, then we’ll absolutely get that long night.”

Lillian paused, grazing over his innuendo as she pursed her lip. “If that’s what you think we should do.”

Instinct nudged at Sam’s subconscious. He’d done this before; hell, he was an expert at this point. The only achievable method towards controlling the unattainable was befriending the impossible; becoming a false ally. The Coe name wouldn’t work in this scenario, he knew that, but the skills collected throughout his years as a rebellious adult taught him a thing or two about word play, specifically, verbal disguise — manipulation.

“I mean … if that’s what you think would work,” he double checked. “I just think if we get her to trust us, she’ll lay her cards out on the table.”

Lillian cocked her head, arms crossing in front of her chest as she stifled a frown, leaned back against the desk. “It could work, and it could not. We can’t risk this plan failing. What if she refuses to tell us anything at all?”

“She won’t.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Cuz even if she was involved, nearly getting shot by ecliptics wasn’t part of the plan. If we didn’t show up when we did, guns ablazin, she’d be dead.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

Twice. She disagreed with him twice, now, which was conventional and always came from a place of concern, but even something as routine as administering a trauma pack to a survivor shouldn’t have been a slippery slope, yet the argument steamed up a train of thought that chugged at his brain. Comparatively, Lillian’s motives centered around the heart of what it meant to be a Ranger; Frontier Justice — protecting and preserving the best interests for the Freestar Collective, but her experience with the seedy Underbelly of the black market was only surface level. Sam didn’t write the book when it came to smuggling, but he definitely had his hand in a few chapters. He recognized his talents, beyond piloting a ship. Lillian was due for that reminder.

Down the hall, the woman waited in the room. Confidence swelled inside his chest. He was capable of making Lillian and The Rangers proud.

He met Lillian’s eyes, speaking directly into them as not only her partner, but her husband as well.

“Let me talk to her.”

The Ranger’s interrogation room consisted of three gray walls with an accent brick wall mixed in, a table and a chair, and a single two-way mirror. Sam had listened to many culprits inside the square asylum, a place he’d heard justifications ranging from misunderstandings in a bar to cold-blooded murder. Innocent until proven guilty was an old earth law, but credibility lurked within the ancient rule still, even if the Ranger’s didn’t out rightly practice it. He’d give this woman the benefit of the doubt until his morals persuaded him she was liable enough for arrest.

But that’s if he could get her to speak.

Lillian’s focal point consisted on cracking the coordinates for the ship’s final landing, as well as finding the owner of the stolen vessel. Sam knew she preferred to have her hands full rather than empty, sometimes taking on more than he thought she could handle, but he respected his wife’s decisions, knowing her ambitions meant new leads for the Rangers to follow, and he snatched up any opportunity to assist where he felt the most helpful.

A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins as he took a breath, remembering the mission, remembering what Lillian expected, what The Rangers expected. The door creaked mildly as he pushed it open.

If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he entered the wrong room.

She appeared human; a near perfect clone of the woman he’d caught a glimpse of on TV. The air smelt of dust and earth, but there was a trace smell he could only describe as the planetside scent of a descending waterfall. Sam met her anonymous stare, his own nameless as he sat down and cleared his throat.

“Do you remember me?” He asked.

She nodded her head. A flatness to her eyes.

“How are you, uh, feelin?”

“Fine.”

Was she already lying? How could he be so sure? What answer did he expect to hear the moment the question left his lips? He asked out of courtesy, a spark to break the ice, but it felt out of place, like forced small talk, but fact of the matter was she didn’t weep or fold into a blubbering, nonsensical mess, like he predicted.

Strangely, a sense of reverence led Sam forward.

“Can I get you some water?”

“No.”

Her composure remained as stiff as her back against the wood slats of the chair. Whatever her angle, he had to play his hand logically. Stamp the obvious on the forefront of his brain; she was here for a reason.

“Alright. I’m gonna ask you some questions. I know you’ve been through hell and back, but I need you to answer them honestly, okay? We want whoever did this to you to face severe punishment. I’m sure you want that, too … you do, right?”

In that moment, it was as if the gears stuttered within the mechanism of her brain as her face hid any indication of an answer. Sam waited, greatly anticipating her response, his elbows propped on the table and folded hands inches away from his chin. He tilted his head, and when she still didn’t speak, he verbally poked her. “Ma’am? Do you want justice against the one who did this to you?”

Her face shot up, eyes cold. “I do.”

“Alright then,” he began, leaning forward, his hands dropping onto the table. “We’ll start from the beginning, ease ya into it. What do you remember before the events of last night?”

Her hardened persistence remained, but he noticed the small lax in her shoulders as she took a breath. Her eyes closed. “I was at my friend’s apartment, just needed a box of my things that I’d forgotten,” she recalled, opening her eyes, her hues connecting to Sam’s. “I couldn’t just leave it there, but I thought about it. I thought about turning around and going back home, but I didn’t.”

“Must have been important to you — whatever was in that box.”

“I – I like to collect old Earth books. Sinclair’s pays me to refurbish them as best I can, and then I donate extra copies around the Settled Systems.”

Sinclair’s. That was the storefront she posed in front of on TV.

He leaned back against his chair, his cowboy hat tipped gently, shadowing his forehead under luminescent ceiling lights. “My daughter? Loves books. She just goes crazy for them. Of course, she can’t read them yet, but when I read to her, she giggles her little head off.” He offered a lightness in the room, sharing something normal, something friendly, something … definite, as the real questions simmered on the tip of his tongue. “Did you ever get your books back?”

“No.”

Sam frowned. “I imagine those books took some hard work to find. When this is over, would you like us to help track them down for you?”

She smirked, thinly, neither coy nor aggressive. “You won’t find them. They were jettisoned into space. Besides, it’s not that important.” She averted her eyes. “Not anymore, at least.”

He could hear the subdued ache within her words, but he still wasn’t pushing her enough.

“How did you find out your things had been scrapped?”

“I just … sort of assumed.”

“You assumed?” Sam repeated.

“Well, I … I really don’t remember.”

“Could you try?”

“I am trying, sir.”

“It’s Sam. Just Sam is fine.”

“Okay, Sam,” she said. “It’s all just … I don’t know. Blurry.”

“It’s common for foggy gaps in the memory when you’ve gone through … everything you’ve gone through.” He switched directions, like a sly fox cornering his prey. “Those assumptions you felt, they came from somewhere, and you didn’t leave the apartment. Did your friend ever come back?”

“No, I never saw him,” she said, an unusual rise in her vocal tone.

“If you never saw him and you don’t remember what happened last night, then how did you get on that ship?”

“Sir — Sam, I – I don’t know –”

“ – cuz that’s a large chunk of time not accounted for, and suddenly you just, don’t remember?”

“Like you said, brain fog and —”

“No, your selective memory’s not adding up, and I’m willing to bet credits you've been lyin’ for some time now.”

“No I’m not lying it’s just — fuck,” her voice cracked on the swear, her hands quick to cradle her head. Sam stared at the deep purple and blue bruises bound around her wrists. His throat burned. He twisted his focus elsewhere. “Look,” she started, “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, okay? I’m just – so fucked.” Her breaths shortened, raspy and thin as her forehead met the table with a thunk, arms barricading her face.

Inside the small of the room her confession lingered. The air was flexible now, much to Sam’s chagrin, knowing that whatever, or whoever, possessed her to lie to his face still controlled her thoughts even after all the nightmares she endured.

But lying to a Ranger — that was a punishable offense.

Muffled sobs clogged the room. An ache of sympathy lumped in Sam’s throat. He knew his duties, abided by them each time he fastened his badge to the uniform, but something about her confession pulled on his judgment. No moments of clarity graced this woman as she continued to wail, her pain amplified by what Sam could only imagine was the threatening fear of fate now that she’d confessed.

He swallowed. “I, um, uh … well, I appreciate your honesty, and if you could continue to give me that, I’ll … I’ll try and help you as best as I can.” He paused, quickly adding, “I can’t promise anything, but, if you tell me the truth from here on out … you have my word that I will try. Alright?”

She sniffled, her eyes slowly poking out from the crevice of her forearm, cheeks dampened and lips swollen. She considered him with a long pause, and finally, as silence embraced the room again, he watched her sit up. “I don’t know how you could help me.”

“We’re reasonable,” Sam encouraged. “And what we do holds alotta weight, being the law and all.”

“No, you don’t understand. There’s nothing the law can do.”

He stifled a chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

“I would be, actually, considering — fuck, okay.” She inhaled, long and purposeful, as if bracing herself. “I just don’t know, Sam. I’ve backed myself into a corner here and —”

“Then let me help you get out.” He tugged his body forward, catching uncertainty in her eyes as her gaze shuffled around the room, before finally attaching to his. “What are you scared of?”

“Everything.”

The room seemed to shrink. A sparseness filling Sam’s lungs as he breathed the gravity of her response, and the strain of it all – organs, murders, human smuggling, unbridled fear. His morals never disobeyed him, but the law … the law had its limits.

The Ranger pored over the suspect sitting across from him, and for a moment, her visage morphed to the woman he regarded on TV. The brightness in her eyes, her strong posture, and a smile that stretched across her face. No blood. No bruises. No tears.

“You were on SSNN, weren’t you?”

“Yes .. I was.”

“I saw you. In front of a store – Sinclair’s maybe? You were smilin’ and holding a plaque of some kind.”

Her eyes bulged, almost as if she’d forgotten as she touched her throat. “My citizen’s award.”

Sam nodded, a thin smile of respect growing on his lips. “Tell me how you got that.”

“... I traveled to a LIST settlement that specializes in fostering families affected by the Colony War. On my trip back, a reporter for SSNN took a seat next to me and … I guess the rest speaks for itself.”

“That’s really amazing. I’m sure those families really appreciated your doing that.”

She gave a half smile; humble but acknowledged.

Sam continued, “So, how does someone like you end up mixed in with the garbage of this mess?”

She faintly shrugged, shaking her head. “How do any of us end up in the messes we make?”

“Dumb decisions, not thinking about the consequences, … trusting the wrong people.” Sam observed her cadence, gauging any type of reaction that might reveal the rest of her; a twitch of the lip, an averted gaze, something.

“Was your friend involved?”

Nothing.

“Maybe they bit off more than they could chew? Ran into the wrong, very wrong, crowd? And now you’re payin’ the price because you … you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, too?”

He caught the clench of her jaw.

“Hell, maybe your friend doesn’t even exist.”

Her face flushed a bright red. “No that’s –”

“Not what? The truth? The truth that’s gonna be your saving grace if you just cooperate with me?”

“Fuck! I’m trying! Okay?!” She slammed her palms on the table, alerting Sam’s trigger finger as his hand flinched to his sidearm, but he didn’t retrieve it as she bellowed. “You think this is easy for me? Huh?! My life is on the line here. Again! And he’ll do much, much worse to me now than whatever those ecliptic fucks were paid to do!”

Sam raised his hands, his voice calm and diffusing. “Easy. Just — take a breath, and tell me about this he.”

She laughed, a frown etched across her face as she ran her fingers through her hair and held her head. “Might as well, right? I’m as good as dead.”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Sam said.

“You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with death. Try me.”

His challenge left her rigid, or so Sam thought, until she regarded him earnestly, the whites of her eyes growing pale as she spoke. “How can you be so sure I’ll be safe?”

That damn question again; poking and prodding at his abilities as if his intuition was nothing but a fluke, as if his experience was nothing but fictional. For god sakes, he wouldn’t be alive if it were and he wouldn’t be the man he was today without it teaching him, guiding him, encouraging him.

As long as this woman revealed what she knew to Sam and The Rangers, he would do everything in his power to make sure she didn’t suffer at the hands of this — this tormentor. Sam was a man of his word.

“I just am.”

The woman lowered her head, eyes low as if reflecting on what’s to come. Defeated, but not hopeless.

“Now, can you tell me who he is?”

“He is … a plague. A disease. The cause of so much suffering across the Settled Systems, and he is … everywhere.”

Sam cocked his eyebrow. “Who?”

“Медведь. The Bear.”

#oooooh new character on the rise? most definitely #heavy dialogue woohoo!#also where are my blink 182 fans the title is for you #anyways i sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter!#sucks i'm sick but oh well more writing time #starfield fanfiction #coemancer #sam coe x reader #reader x Sam Coe #seriously thank you for the support it pushes me to remember to have fun cuz writing is fun

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redhairedwolfwitch · 11 months

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Power Rangers Masterlist (TV Shows + 2017 Movie)

Fics are below the 'read more', do not repost my fics anywhere, this is my only writing account and website, reblogs are allowed but do not claim my writing as your own.

Power Rangers RPM: Ranger Pink Series Masterlist

Overprotective - Tori Hanson x Sister!Reader - Mystic Force

Secrets and School Projects - Trini x Reader - 2017 movie

Chipped Nail Polish and Broken Bones - Trini x Reader - 2017 movie

Yellow and Purple - Z Delgato x Tate!Sister!Reader - Power Rangers SPD

Rangers Together, Sisters Forever - 2017 movie x Hart!Sister!Reader, Part 2: Rangers Together, Forever - Trini x Hart!Sister!Reader

You're Allowed to Care - Summer Landsdown x Fem!Reader - Power Rangers RPM

Ice to meet you! - Lauren Shiba x Twin!Reader - Power Rangers Samurai

Worth Your Weight In Gold - Power Rangers SPD - Z Delgado x Sister!Reader

Hesitation - Power Rangers RPM - Tenaya 7 x Fem!Reader

Buy One, Get One Free - Power Rangers RPM - Summer Landsdown x Twin!Sister!Reader

In the Name of Love - Trini x Fem!Reader - 2017 movie

Vow to Protect - Power Rangers Mystic Force - Maddie Rocca x Sister!Reader

Power Rangers 2017 - Trini x Younger!Sister!Reader - headcanons

Power Rangers RPM - Tenaya 7 x Sister!Reader - Imagine being Tenaya 7′s sister with her on the side of Venjix and she’s protective of you

Fusion Force - Power Rangers x Fem!Reader

Light and Dark Rangers - Power Rangers Dino Super Charge x Morgan!Reader x OC

Two Reds and a Purple - Power Rangers Samurai x Shiba!Sister!Reader

Cursed - Power Rangers Samurai/Super Samurai - Emily x Fem!Reader

Dimensional Wormholes - Power Rangers SPD x Manx!Daughter!Reader x Lily Chilman - Power Rangers Jungle Fury

Spirit of the Ocelot - Power Rangers Jungle Fury x Hanson!Sister!Reader x Lily Chilman

Panic Attack - Trini x Fem!Reader - 2017 movie

Hex Girl - Kimberly Hart x Fem!Reader - 2017 movie

Knowing Her - Kimberly Hart x Fem!Reader - 2017 movie

White Ranger - Kimberly Hart x Fem!Reader - 2017 movie

#power rangers x reader #power rangers imagine

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ilariyalavorowrites · 2 years

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Good Enough (9-1-1) Part Seven

Imagine: Imagine leaving LA after feeling like an outsider in your relationship with Bobby and Athena as they seem to pull away and distance themselves from you. Only to find that it is almost impossible to actually walk away.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, AU, Bisexual Athena, BDSM

Pairings: Bobby Nash x Reader x Athena Grant

Word count: 1,334 words

Universe: 9-1-1

Reader gender: Female

Tagged: @graniairish @madhatter-crazyasahatter-blog @4everflowercore @blueskyredrosegrey @agathaharknessfan96 @ljej95 @yoshinorecommends @horsedragonllama @forever2ne1

Previous/ Next

Part: 7/10

Athena was used to having to remain level-headed and be patient. For it had always been a natural part of her professional life, bleeding seamlessly with her role as mother and wife . That didn’t mean that she had to like it.

“Sergeant Grant?” A voice called, it was enough to catch her attention. Athena turned to face the owner of the voice. A familiar sight was standing there, it was another of colleagues. The same individual that she had reached out to not even a couple of hours before. She waited with bated breath for news, any fragment of information good or bad would be enough for her to use. She knew which she would prefer but it was out of her hands which way the pendulum swung. This was a hard lesson to endure, one that she had to see through time after time.

Maybe this time would be in her favour but as she watched the young man’s face go through the motions, her stomach dropped as if she swallowed a lead weight. This was not good news. “The program is still running but thus far, we have no recent hits, but you never know what we might get in a few more hours” he said, trying to sound hopeful to keep her spirits up.

“Thanks Hart, keep me posted” She responded with a slight smile upon her lips. It wasn’t his fault that nothing had come of the lead. It simply could be that the information hadn’t been uploaded to the database yet. That it was still sitting on the desk of a less than stellar Officer who took their sweet time. It was just mildly frustrating; Athena was no closer to answering that burning question that taunted her endlessly. She knew the basics of the why and the machinations of the how but that just left the where. Where were you heading?

If she could answer that, then maybe she could shake the remaining answers out of you before dragging you back kicking and screaming if it came to that. Most of all, she just wanted to hold you in her arms even if it was for the very last time. How could she even consider moving on if she hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

No, this was not the time for tears. This was not the moment to get overly emotional, that time would come but for now Athena needed to fall back upon the mask that she long since perfected. Decades of practice were now being put to use as she left the room, nodding to the officer on her way out. On to the next lead she went. This was not the time to standstill, Sergeant Grant was not one to remain idle for long especially when she had a case to crack.

This was just another bump in the long road ahead. She was beyond determined, she was going to see this through to the end. Whatever that might lead her and what she found when she got through. She could never truly prepare herself for she might discover as the possibilities were endless but Athena needed to discover what lay over the horizon, as her journeys end with you.

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Theodore Rivera

The name displayed proudly beneath a smiling photo; this had been enough to capture Michael’s attention when scrolling through the never-ending cycle of dud profiles on this particular dating app. There had been an almost immediate connection as texts and messages flowed back and forth, day and night. It didn’t take long for them to come to the conclusion that there was only way forward from here, to set a date and time and see if this wonderful feeling continued in person.

However it felt as if he had a type, Theo was a nurse. A man working on the front lines, helping those on the worst days of their lives. He had healing hands, Michael couldn’t help but wonder what else those hands could do but this was only the first official date. He would have to wait to find out the answer to that burning question.

The hospital that his date worked at was a little out of town, a short drive but he was curious enough to find out if this was a new beginning to get behind the wheel and go from A to be. Here he was, to see what was at the end of this rainbow. Was this just another shot in the dark or was it priceless treasure waiting to be discovered. He’d soon know, one way or another, of this he was mostly certain of.

Baby steps back out in the shark tank that was the modern way of dating. Online, indirectly meeting anonymous people hiding behind screens of all sizes. It was beyond terrifying but oddly exciting as he drove in feet first. It was simply one foot in front of another as he made his way out of the elevator and towards where his date had planned to meet him after another tediously almost nightmarishly dull shift.

A handful of messages bounced back and forward between the pair of them, detailing how Theo would be rotated through the various wards, along with the rest of the nursing staff. There was always another ward that needed a helping hand, understaffed from sickness and annual leave to name a few reasons.

An undercurrent of bone dry humour had been peppered throughout which never failed to cause his face to be illuminated as he laughed, enjoying the fast paced tit for tat when he needed them the most, in those few moments when he was completely alone staring at the four walls of his apartment. For a split second, it didn't feel like home but he had someone anchoring him, stopping him from falling over the ledge into despair.

A grateful smile passed over his lips as he turned the corner, finding what he had been looking for. The nurse’s base with the name of the ward proudly framing it alongside the board listing all the poor souls residing within. His brow narrowed at the sight of a rather familiar one. Athena hadn’t said a lick about her friend being in the hospital, thinking on it for a hot second, neither had Bobby.

Turning his gaze away from the white board, with his phone still held in his right hand and practised flick of fingers Michael opened his contacts, lingering over one than darting to another. Bobby was the better choice. As he knew Athena far too well, the firefighter’s calm demeanour was what this situation needed but mostly, he needed to hear that his friend was in the hospital.

Time passed him by as Michael found himself firing text after text, responding to Bobby’s various questions. Never knowing that he was the spark birthing a most vicious flame into being.

“Michael? Are you ready to go?” He heard his name and the question that followed, drawing him back out of the digital rabbit hole that he had fallen down. “Definitely, let’s get out of here” He smiled through the words that fell from his lips. Never seeing past the moment, blinkered by the buzzing butterflies that twitched with glee in the bowels of his stomach. For if he had then he would worry. For Michael knew not of this potential scandalous of secrets tucked safely away, beneath the twisted up bed sheets that had so often ensnared the three of you.

For the spark once lit would rush forth, bursting into life as a fire danced uncontrollable into existence. One of wild proportions, destructive as pushed forward on its path. This was its very nature, one that could not be simply ignored. For too long at least as it climbed higher and higher and at the eye of the storm stood you, Athena and Bobby. You were now on a heads collision course. One that could not be avoided or escaped from.

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windhamsrotunda · 2 years

Text

I Only Have Eyes For You - Bret Hart

Pairings: 90s!Bret ''The Hitman'' Hart x Female! Reader

Summary: (Based off of the song ''I Only Have Eyes For You'' by The Flamingos). Bret only has eyes for you, and you know it's true. After a year of not being able to see him due to traveling, Bret comes home unexpectedly and surprises you.

Warnings: Mainly fluff, Little smut, Bret being a supportive and kind boyfriend, it just gets fluffy and SOMEWHAT smutty, just a fair warning there. male! receiving. (18+ Readers Only, Please!)

Requested by: No One (this is for the 500 followers celebration, cause I hit 500 followers! <3)

Word Count: 1.4k

It has been at least a year since you have last seen your boyfriend, Bret. You have been missing him ever since he left to travel around the world, signing autographs, thousands of fans screaming his name across the nation — you just missed him. Every second, every minute, every hour, everyday.

He was the sweetest and kindest boyfriend you'd ever ask for out of a guy, and that guy was Bret Hart. He would usually call you in the middle of the night every other night, just to tell you that he’s safe. His voice was so soothing, you could get lost in it only by listening to him talk for hours. You missed him as a whole, but you knew one day he would be back with you in his strong and muscular arms again.

You skimmed through photographs of you and him, one of those photographs being placed into a memory book, where he kissed you on the cheek with his arms wrapped around you at a carnival. What a distant feeling. You thought. You held back tears from forming and dropping onto one of the fresh polaroids placed into the memory scrapbook of you and Bret, but goddamn it you missed him.

You could say how much you miss him like a broken record over and over again, but it doesn’t change how you feel towards him. Your love for Bret was angelic, and kind-spirited, it was so ridiculous to the point where you would talk to your friends about your boyfriend and how much he meant to you. Of course, you knew Bret since you two were in middle school, it has been so long. A year has felt like eternity, your heart began to break because you wanted to see him. No one could ever know how you were feeling, the desire of wanting to hug him one last time, or more.

A few hours had passed, you were home alone on a Wednesday afternoon. Cuddled up in a gray blanket, you heard the rain bellow down onto the rooftop as you drifted off to sleep.

‘’Y/N? Are you home?’’ A familiar presence made its way into the doorway of your home. No, it can’t be.

Your eyes popped right open, you jumped up and saw a shadow lurking in the corner of the living room.

‘’Bret?’’

‘’BRET!’’ You ran as fast as you could towards your boyfriend, his arms wide open for a familiar hug, a hug you haven’t felt in over a year.

Tears of mixed emotions formed in the creases of your eyes, your face buried in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck, he hugged you tightly.

‘’Did you miss me? ‘Cause I know I missed you,’’ He whispered soothingly, his hands resting on your back, rubbing.

‘’Y-you have no idea, Bret… I-I missed you a lot. More than you’ll ever know.’’ You answered, fighting back so many mixed emotions, your head was spinning, it felt like eternity since you last saw him.

‘’Shh, it’s okay. I understand baby, I missed you more. I’m so sorry for leaving you after all of this time, I feel like a jerk—’’ You pressed a finger upon Bret’s lips, your eyes glistened with his.

‘’Please don’t ever feel like you’re a jerk, because you aren’t. I just missed you. Your hugs, your smiling face, your presence.’’ You spoke, he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

‘’You know what I have missed?’’ He asked you, eyes boring into your’s.

‘’What?’’

‘’This.’’

Bret pulled you into this strong embrace, and kissed you deeply. His lips were sealed onto yours, oh how you missed him. You melted into his arms, such a familiar feeling.

He guided you into a near wall, with your lips never breaking apart. He knew all of your weak spots, and how to make you feel good. But this was the best feeling in the world, with his hands cupping your bottom, lifting you up to support your body weight against a wall felt like ‘’heaven and i’d die for it’’ feeling. His lips attached onto your earlobe, sending dead cold shivers down your spine. Bret chuckled,

‘’I missed your body touching against mine, not only that, but I missed how well my baby girl behaves for me,’’ Hearing those words made you blush a heavy pink, you were dumbfounded and so in love with him, that cute asshole.

‘’I— I missed you more,’’ You mouthed, trying to get the right words out so you can prevent yourself from being embarrassed. But it was too late for that.

‘’Aww, are you lost, baby girl? I’ll make your clueless mind less worrisome.’’ He teased, his voice deep in anticipation.

You crossed your legs to prevent yourself from making your ‘’oh my god, he just made me weak all over and he probably knows it’’ feeling from being so obvious. Shit, he knew you so well he could read you like a book.

Bret caressed your cheek, you whimpered, the bare minimum touches he gave you was pleasurable. He didn’t have to lay a finger on you or fuck you dumb to pleasure you, all he did was talk to you nice, that way he could win your heart for good.

‘’Oka-okay. You got me, Bret.’’ You finally gave in, a laugh was heard from The Hitman in response.

‘’Good girl. Now, tell me. Tell me all of your heart's desires.’’ He challenged.

‘’I— Holy shit. I am so nervous, it’s been like a year since we’ve last done this.’’ Your heart beating through the floor, you felt yourself tense up under his touch.

‘’It’s okay, baby. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.’’

Maybe you did want him to continue what he was doing, he gave you a sly smile and placed his hands onto your’s. You couldn’t admit it, you were out of it, shit, come on Y/N, think.

‘’I-I need a minute.’’ You stepped back, and ran into the bathroom.

Your legs shook, you cupped yourself and felt the warmth running down your legs, a huge sigh of relief escaped out of you as Bret was waiting in the living room.

‘’How in the hell did he get me this wet—’’ You blushed, and decided to take a quick shower. You texted Bret, who happened to be still waiting in the living room by himself. A door knob turned to the bathroom door, and quickly shut afterwards. A shirt and pants dropped to the floor.

‘’Mind if I join?’’

‘’I don’t mind at all, babe.’’ You said, a smile played upon the face of Bret, and as he stepped in, you kissed him again, but deeper.

The shower continued to run for a few minutes, kissing your thighs, he asked for your approval before doing anything else. He wanted to make love to you in the shower, and so he did.

You tilted your head back, a soft moan slipped past you right as his lips pressed against your garden.

‘’Being so well-behaved for me.’’ He added after another kiss, while he had you under his little finger. You sighed aloud, your fingers crept into his long black hair, tugging slightly onto his hair, a low grunt from him was heard by you.

Knowing he was pleasuring you, you decided on turning the tables by kissing down his chest, going lower as you progressed, and well, you know the rest.

Bret groaned, he held the back of your head while you were softly gagging underneath him. ‘’My god, Y-Y/N. You t-take me so good.’’ He said.

‘’Y/N, I-I’m about t-to’’ He warned, pulling out of your hollowed mouth, releasing. His eyes closed for a brief second, heavy panting heavier than the sound of the shower head spurting down water itself.

‘’You t-take good care of me,’’ You replied, standing up. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him, wet hair and all.

‘’That’s my job,’’ He smiled brightly.

‘’I love you, Bret.’’

‘’I love you too, Y/N.’’

A/N: Omfg, so this is the first Bret Hart fic I have ever written, and I am kinda proud of how this turned out, I am sorry if the ending was crappy -- but it is 10pm at night. I promised you all a Bret Hart fic, and here it is. Hope you enjoyed <3 (likes, reblogs or any type of feedback are always appreciated!!).

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newkatzkafe2023 · 6 months

Text

Character List and (Y/N)

Genderbend animated Sitcom wifes x Yandere motherly Seriel killer reader

Name (Y/N) (L/N)

Age 22

Gender: female

(Eye color): (e/c)

(Hair color): (h/c)

Appearance:

your a tall woman with (e/c) eyes and (h/c)You have long hair that usually up in one or two buns and you wear glasses.

Personality: You are an enigma and Mystery. You are a Recluse who runs a bakery called Katz Kafe a kid and animal friendly Cafe in the middle of the Neighborhood. You are a quiet young woman who loves animals and children and because of that you are more of an Observer then a talker But at night, you are a serial killer called hellcat And you target abusive parents who disregard and harm their children So therefore you also take the kids You save to either foster care or a new home while leaving proof and evidence that the parents were not fit to raise their child. When you come out of you she'll your friendly, care, protective, intelligent, and wise and you give fairly good advice. You yourself had some parents who abused you and your siblings and when you were 11 you murdered your parents in cold blood and proceeded to do the same to any parents who do the same to their children.

(Normal) Shy, kind, caring, protective, paranoid, Fierce, motherly, gentle, loving, harmless

(HellCat) sadistic, vindictive, mean Spirited, harsh, realistic, jaded, Short tempered, lethal

Powers/abilities

weapon use: you have a spiky club you use to kill your victims. You named it Excaliblog😵

Cooking: you are very good at cooking and baking you make free samples for the children and homemade healthy animal treats for their pets.👩‍🍳

Hyper awareness: you can hear things from miles away and pinpoint where it's coming from🫡

Night vision: you trained yourself to see and kill in the dark 😶‍🌫️

Teaching: you are an incredible teacher from Academics to self defense you can teach anybody anything you mainly tutor the children 🤓

Self defense: you are a fighter from professional to street fighter 😷

Super strength: Nobody knows how strong you truly are not even yourself but you could easily lift an school bus😤

Info broker: you know what goes on around the city even though you're not there🧐

Speed: you are very fast you once chase a bus you missed all the way to the next stop😛

Unlimited Stamina: your never Tired period it's never gonna happen 😑

Rage Quit: if someone were to hurt or threatened someone you love or a small child infront of you, you'll fly into a fit of blind pitch black rage that usually leaves blood on you hands ✋️🤬🤯

The genderbends lover Boys/Men

Marge simpson/Mark simpson (the simpsons)

Lois Griffin/ Lewis Griffin( Family Guy)

Francine Smith/ Francis Smith(American dad)

Donna Tubbs/ Donnie tubs (the Cleveland show)

Queen Dagmar /King Denmark(disenchantment)

Jenny hart/ Jake Hart(bless the harts)

Linda Belcher/ Lipten Belcher(Bob's burgers)

Gayle Genarro/ Gabe Genarro (Bob's burgers)

Peggy hill/ Pennsy Hill (king of the hill)

Nancy Gribble/ Nathan Gribble (king of the hill)

Minh Souphanousinphone/Mink Souphanousinphone (king of the hill)

Turanga leela/ Turango Lero(futurama)

Amy wong/ Alvin Wong(futurama)

Labarbara Conrad/ Lawson Conrad(futurama)

Beth Smith/ Ben Smith(Rick and Morty)

Riley Regan/ Ruckus Regan(inside job)

Paige Tillerman/ Pac Tillerman(Central Park)

Abby Hunter/ Albert Hunter(Central Park)

Helen Morgendorffer/ Hal Morgendorffer (Daria)

Honeybee Tobin/Wasp Tobin (the great North)

Sharon Marsh/Seymour Marsh (South park)

Liane Cartman/Lance Cartman (South park)

Carol Mccormick/ Calvin Mccormick(South park)

Sheila Brofloviski/ Sheldon Brofloviski (South park)

Annie Harris/Anthony Harris (Duncanville)

Diane Birch/Danny Birch(big mouth)

Monica Foreman-Greenwald/Marvin Foreman-Greenwald (big mouth)

Shanon Glaser/Shane Glaser (big mouth)

Lana kane/Lenny kane (Archer)

Dr Jill/ Dr Jack (Housebroken)

Your theme songs:

youtube

Ok New Character Bio Done!🥳

That's alot of men huh?🤭

Well that's how special you are😏🤤😉

As Usual Leave Comments!!!!!

#The simpsons #family guy #Disenchantment #the cleveland show #american dad #The king of the hell #Archer #Bless the harts #Duncanville #south park #Daria #Central park #rick and morty #Inside job #the great north #Big mouth #Housebroken

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winterscaptain · 2 years

Text

roadblock.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: aaaaaaand we're back! i'm working on the next bits of the season 11 arc, so stay tuned!

words: 7.4k content advisories: language, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, death, and discussion of sexual assault, brief alcohol mention, brief discussion of gun death, food consumption

summary: “home is anywhere that you know all your friends and all your enemies.” ― orson scott card, hart's hope

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You roll over in bed, stretching with a little noise from the back of your throat. Somewhere along the way, you land across Aaron’s chest and settle, shifting a little to get comfortable.

“Good morning,” comes a rumble from under your cheek.

You hum, still not fully awake. “Morning.”

“You get prettier every day I know you, you know that?”

“Flatterer,” you reply, offering a halfhearted smack of the hand over his heart.

Aaron chuckles and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight to him. “It’s been nice having you home a little more.”

“Don’t get used to it.” You finally open your eyes and tip your head up, pressing your nose to the hollow under his jaw. “I’m benched, not retired.”

There’s a kiss pressed to the top of your head. “I know. It is spoiling me, though, just a little.”

It’s spoiling you, too, if you’re honest. Given the recent events with Derek, you’re sure Emily has a hand in artificially lightening your desks, keeping your consults manageable and outlining expert witness testimony in writing whenever possible. Still, you’re somewhat busy.

Tara’s been out in interviews most of the week, working on one of her publications with an inmate in federal prison, and the rest of the team has been working out of the office or away on judicial obligations.

You’re sure Spencer would be tired of acting as an expert witness by now, but he seems to be in high spirits every time he returns from a trip.

It’s kind of impressive, for someone who hates handshakes and commercial flights so much.

“Doing work behind a desk is fun for about three days, then I’m kind of over it.” You sit up, stretching again and removing your pajama shirt so you can pretend to get your day started. Aaron reaches for you, tucking his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. With a snort, you ask, “Having fun?”

He nods, burrowing deeper.

“All you men are the same - you see a pair of boobs you’ve seen probably a thousand times and your brain shuts off.”

“Only one brain,” Aaron says, mumbling into your skin. “The other one works just fine.”

You snort. “That’s hardly a brain. It’s more of a sentient appendage.”

Aaron hums noncommittally.

Can’t hurt to let him stay for a minute, right?

“You have three minutes and then I have to get up. Jack has a test today and he can’t be late.”

A little dissatisfied, but resigned, chuff gets past your sternum.

Good enough.

+++

The federal building is relatively quiet when you and Aaron arrive a little after nine. As usual, Penelope and Emily are up in the office, discussing any recent developments on the Montolo case while Dave putters about the kitchen.

“Morning,” you say, slipping past him and heading toward the fridge. Aaron, in all his thoughtfulness, packed you a lunch today while you took care of Jack’s.

Dave looks up. “Bellissima! Good morning.” He picks up his coffee mug but doesn’t take a sip. Between you, Kate, and JJ, everyone has been mindful about public caffeine consumption for over a year, now. The niceties are second nature. “Any big plans for the weekend?”

You shake your head. “It’s Aaron’s birthday on Monday, but we’re not doing much. You?”

He shakes his head. “My publisher has been after me. She apparently doesn’t believe me when I tell her I’m retired.”

“You didn’t stay retired from this job,” you point out. “So, that might be fair.”

“Retirement is a state of mind,” Dave says, waving you off. You follow him as he wanders back into the bullpen. “As long as I’m not writing books in my head, I’m retired.”

You tip your head. “Decent rule.”

“What’s a decent rule?” Spencer asks, looking up from his mini chess board.

You take a seat at your desk and fire up your computer. “Rossi says he’s retired as long as he’s not thinking about writing books.”

Spencer shrugs, turning the board. “That seems reasonable.” He looks up at Dave. “Is your publisher bothering you again?”

Dave tips his head. “Apparently, the forums are anxiously awaiting my encore, but I don’t have anything for them.”

“Yeah. MIT keeps emailing me about another publication, but I had Garcia take them out of my inbox.” Spencer shrugs. “I hardly look at my email anyway.”

You laugh a little. It’s true - the best way to reach Spencer via email is to email anyone else on the team and request to pass the message along. More than one department has learned its lesson trying to wheedle communication out of Boy Wonder, to no avail.

Speaking of email, yours is relatively orderly. Only three new items in your inbox since you left the office last night, and two of them are non-urgent items for Derek upon his return, compliments of IT forwarding his email to yours.

The time passes quickly while you work on the only remaining email that needs your attention. Soon enough, Spencer stands and waits by your desk, ready to walk with you upstairs to the roundtable room.

“You can go on without me, Spence. I’ll be there in a second.”

He shrugs. You can see it out of the corner of your eye. “I’m not in a rush.”

You huff a little laugh and hit Send. “Thanks. Ready?”

He nods, and you head up.

+++

You settle in at the table. Derek and JJ’s usual seats are empty, and you can’t help but feel like the room is getting rather small.

“Meet twenty-year-old Jose Rivera, night manager at a place called Dee's Original Diner.” She clicks through two portraits of two young men. “And then this is Eddie Butler. He was seventeen. He was a fry cook, high school senior, and basketball star.”

She clicks again. “And finally Renee Acosta. She was sixteen years old. She was a cashier at the restaurant, and she was a junior in high school.” She clicks again. “And they were all murdered last night just after closing. The safe and the cash register were both emptied, and all the victims' valuables were missing, too.”

“Any surveillance video?” Dave asks.

“No. Because the system burnt down in a fire that was set after the murders took place.”

You sigh. “The arson was probably just a forensic countermeasure.”

“The coroner has the bodies right now,” Penelope says, “and it looks like the cause of death to each was a gunshot wound to the head.”

“Garcia, pause!” Spence leans forward. “Where did this happen?”

“Oh,” she says. “I was saving the worst for last.”

“Las Vegas, New Mexico?” It’s hardly a question. If you already had an inkling as to where this was going, so did Spencer. Your face falls, as does Emily’s.

“Mm-hmm.” Penelope’s nod comes with a pinched face.

“Wait, what's the deal with Las Vegas, New Mexico?” Tara asks.

Your mouth twists. “The same exact type of robbery-homicide took place there six years ago.”

“At that time it was at a place called the Burger Corral and there were four victims,” Penelope adds.

“Teenagers,” you continue. “They sexually assaulted the girls, then shot them execution style, robbed the place, and then burned it down to the ground.”

You look to Emily, who adds, “We consulted from here and the NCAVC coordinator in Santa Fe did the groundwork.”

“Any suspects?” Tara asks.

You shake your head. “None, but we knew it was probably someone with a personal connection to the town.”

“Problem was it's a pretty transient place,” Dave says. “Tourists, truckers, and a lot of the work opportunities are seasonal.”

Spencer nods. “Given the level of violence, we profiled it was two or more criminally experienced unsubs, most likely under the influence of some type of narcotic, but they never struck again and the case went cold.”

“Looks like it’s hot now.”

Tara looks up from the file. “So, are these guys back or is this somebody playing copycat?”

“That's what we need to find out,” Emily says. Aaron appears behind her. “Hotch will be joining us now that we’re down two hands. Wheels up in thirty.”

+++

Now you really feel spoiled. Having Aaron on the case with you brings a certain level of comfort to you, especially with Derek and JJ out for the count.

You know for a fact that JJ has called daily to confirm she’s not actually needed, but Emily has been quite firm with her. Now, she says, is the time for JJ to enjoy her growing family and get all the rest she can. She’ll be back soon enough.

Aaron takes your bags as you walk across the tarmac. You might all be a little delayed getting off the base due to some in-air exercises by Marines in their Black Hawks and Osprey helicopters. You can hear them, but the clouds mask their movement as they fly above you.

“Feeling good about traveling this morning?” He asks. What he really means is, how nauseated are you, but he’s too polite to ask with Tara walking so close by.

You nod. “Just fine. I have stuff in my bag if I get queasy at all.”

He shifts the bags, throwing one over his shoulder and taking the other in the same hand. He offers you his free arm and you take it, winding your fingers in the fabric of his coat. A little smile pulls at the corner of your mouth.

It’s not overly cold - just under sixty degrees - but it’s nice to be so close.

+++

“Las Vegas, New Mexico,” Spencer says, supplying you all with some fun facts and context prior to the briefing, “was actually founded seventy years before its Nevada counterpart. In the late nineteenth century, it was a booming railroad hub with a reputation for lawlessness, and apparently, outlaws are a part of the town's genetics. Billy the Kid lived there, and Doc Holliday himself had a saloon there before going to meet Wyatt Earp in Tombstone, Arizona.”

You smile. Tombstone is a favorite movie of Aaron’s (and Jack’s as well). Love for both cowboys and Val Kilmer runs deep in your household.

“The more things change, the more things stay the same.” Dave says.

Tara looks up as if Dave hadn’t said anything at all. “All the victims in both instances were teenagers, except for Jose Rivera.”

“A younger staff,” you note. “That's pretty typical for a night shift.”

Dave nods. “The unsubs might have considered that. It would be easier to subdue a group of kids.”

“Almost an identical M.O.,” Tara says. “Copycat or no, why go back to this town and do this again?”

“They could be sending some kind of message to announce their return.”

Aaron seems to like that idea. His eyes flicker to Spencer for a moment and he squints, thinking.

Dave has another thought while Aaron ponders. “Or it just might be criminal ego. They got away with it the first time. Why not do it again?”

“With unsubs this violent,” Tara asks, “how do you just disappear and go dormant for six years?”

Aaron tips his head. “They may have been in prison. That would explain the criminal experience.”

“Crime U,” Dave says, a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone, “best education taxpayer money can buy.”

Emily cracks a smile, but gets down to business quickly. “When we land, I'll have Garcia compile a list of recently released convicts in the area. Rossi, you and Reid go to the coroner when we land. Lewis, you're with me and the Hotchners at the local PD.”

+++

When you arrive at the precinct, you flash your credentials to security and they get you checked in.

“Agent Hotchner, FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

The woman behind the counter takes your credentials and scans them, handing them back with a security tag. It’s a little more advanced than most local stations, but given the history of the town, it makes a fair amount of sense.

Emily’s right behind you. “Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief.” She gets settled, tucking her credentials back into her pocket and clipping her ID tag to the pocket of her pants.

You wander to the side of the lobby, where photos sit behind plexiglass. It’s almost like a museum, with pictures dated back to the town’s founding in the 1860s.

Headed for civil war and people are still posing for portraits.

You shake your head with a little laugh. The door opens and you follow Emily and Tara inside. Aaron follows behind you in an attempt to keep the focus on Emily. Even though he outranks her, she’s the lead on this case and everyone needs to know it.

“Agents,” A man says, coming out of his office and crossing the bullpen to meet you, “Chief Montoya at your service. Thank you for coming.”

Emily extends a hand. “I'm Agent Prentiss. This is Agent Hotchner, Dr. Lewis, and our Section Chief of the Northwest Investigations and Operational Support Division will be working with us on this case, Agent Aaron Hotchner.”

It’s always made you laugh, the way that Emily puts as many words as she can possibly fit between your name and Aaron’s. It seems to work, because the chief doesn’t say anything or offer any curious looks.

“Nice to meet you. There's been a development. Renee Acosta's parents discovered a voicemail she left when the assailants broke in. Over here.” He gestures to a place behind you and you follow him.

“Lewis, why don’t you sit with Renee’s parents and see what you can do after listening to the voicemail.”

Tara nods, moving to hover over one of the officers. She puts the headphones on and focuses in.

You look around, finding the eyes of a man tracking your team.

“Chief Montoya, who is that?” You ask, tipping your chin toward the watcher.

“That’s Brooks Tanner. His daughter was a victim of the original attack six years ago.” Chief Montoya meets your eyes. “He’s a friend.”

“You mind if we talk to him?” Emily asks.

Chief Montoya gestures broadly. “By all means.”

Emily turns back to you. “Would you mind? I’ll go over the previous case with Hotch while you two conduct the interviews.”

“Not at all.” You turn to Montoya again. “Do you happen to have the case file handy?”

“Of course.”

+++

“I can't believe it's been six years,” Brooks says, looking out the window into the bullpen. His back is to you, but you don’t mind. “It feels like yesterday. Fell asleep out on the couch. Next thing I know, my wife's shaking me, yelling about how they killed Jenny. It all felt like a dream. I keep hoping maybe I'll wake up one of these days.”

All these years of doing this job, the humanity of it never stops smacking you in the face. You have, however, learned how to hold your composure.

“And where is your wife now?”

“Went back to her family in Reno about a year after it happened. Her heart was broken too bad.”

“But you stayed.” It’s not a question.

“My daughter's buried right up the road. I ain't goin' anywhere.” He turns toward you. “I thought for sure you'd have caught 'em last time. I was positive.”

You nod, understanding. “Mr. Tanner, we're going to do everything we possibly can, I promise you.”

“You just promise me…” He takes a few steps toward you, but you see more hurt than threat. “You'll catch those sons of bitches and you're gonna make 'em pay.”

“We will do our best,” you tell him. You glance down at the photo in the file. The striking young woman, smiling between her parents, seems bright, happy.

Mr. Turner shifts his weight. “When are you due?”

You take a little breath, looking down to realize your hand is pressed to the side of your belly to relieve a little pressure under your ribs. “March.”

Mr. Turner hums. “I remember those days. My wife says that keeping the heat on your back helps with those muscle aches.” He shrugs. “I think she said it even helps with the gas, too, but I don’t want to be impolite.”

“Thank you.” You giggle a little, despite the circumstances. “I think this condition reveals something a little impolite about all of us, so I’m happy to take all the help I can get.”

“You’re already a mother, aren’t you?” It’s almost not a question.

You nod. “Yes. I’ve known my stepson since he was very young. I feel very much like his mom, but I’m not his mother.”

There must be something in your voice because he asks, “What happened to her?”

“She was killed,” you reply. You don’t sugarcoat it.

Mr. Turner doesn’t say anything.

“I know people say they understand what you’re going through, but I know that’s impossible. Losing a child is unlike anything else.” You pause, glancing down at the picture of Jenny again, thinking of those horrible minutes where you were sure you lost Jack. “But I know that pain of grief. I will do whatever I can to honor your daughter, sir, and bring her justice.”

He nods once, puts his hat back on his head after tipping it, and walks out of the station. You’re almost certain it’s a peace offering.

+++

You return to Tara, who has finished up with the Acosta family. She has a laptop now, but her headphones are still firmly planted over her ears. You watch her flinch, sigh, then remove them.

“You all right?” You ask.

“Yeah. Yeah, just, um…” She takes a breath. “Just listening to that voicemail again. With my work I've never been big on the whole compartmentalization thing. I just feel like I can't understand others' emotions if I don't deal with my own, you know?”

You shrug. “The best way out is always through.”

“Too bad it's not always the easiest way.”

“No shit.” You sit down beside her, leaning back in the chair so you can run your hand over your aching hip. The second trimester is a bit of a bitch, so you can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll be like when he gets even bigger. “You hear anything else on the recording?”

“Yeah. You guys profiled that you thought there might be multiple unsubs. I can only hear two on this recording. So, unless there are others outside, we're dealing with a partnership.”

That’s not ideal.

+++

When Dave and Spencer return from the M.E., they have information that confirms you’re dealing with the same unsubs. No copycat, no similarly-minded weirdos. The same people.

Spencer stands at the front of the room, walking everyone through the evidence. It’s mostly for Tara, but you all could use the refresher. Plus, nobody has the patience to sit and stare at the evidence board for an hour, parsing through all the similarities and differences. Spencer’s grasp of pattern recognition always comes in handy, it seems. “Six years ago the unsubs separated the victims by gender. The bodies of the boys were found out by the register, the two girls were found in the back office.”

You nod. “Yeah, we profiled that was about control. Isolate the males who were more of a threat.”

“Exactly,” Spencer says. He sounds very much like a professor at the moment. “They even blindfolded them. But they didn't do that this time. No blindfolds and the three victims were found in the same area, all within a few feet of each other.”

“Dee's Original Diner had a back office,” Dave points out. “Why didn't they use it?”

“And look at the body position.” Spencer gestures to the board. “The victims from six years ago were prone, like they were shot while kneeling.”

You gesture to the board. “But Jose Rivera and Eddie Butler were both sitting up.”

“Maybe they posed them that way.” Tara says.

“I don't think so,” Spencer replies. “Ballistics suggest they were seated when they were shot, and look at the way they're facing. It's like they wanted them to see each other.”

“Not see,” Dave says. “Watch.”

Your brow crinkles. “You think they made the boys watch the sexual assault?”

“Well, if they did, they probably made her watch the murders.”

“Psychological sadism,” Tara answers simply.

“A ritual aspect.” Dave’s eyebrows raise. “That's new.”

“And very specific,” Tara says. “Why didn't they do this before?”

You hum. “Well, they could be evolving.”

“Or…” Spencer leans on the table. “It's possible only one of them was involved six years ago.”

A little ripples goes around the room and Dave puts voice to your thoughts. “Which would mean he has a new partner.”

+++

When Emily and Aaron return from the chief’s office, you fill them in on your findings. They’re not overjoyed that it's the same unsubs, obviously, but they’re at least pleased you can pull from the previous profile as a starting point.

“Alright. Good work today. Let’s get settled at the hotel and grab something to eat.” Emily checks her watch. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I haven't eaten since we left Quantico.”

You can’t say the same - Dave and Spencer brought you a sandwich on their way back from their field trip. They’ve both done their best to not babysit or hover, but they’ve been very attentive to your food and water consumption on the last couple of trips.

Aaron pulls your coat from the back of your chair, opening it so you can slip your arms in. His hands brush your shoulders for a moment as he fixes the collar. It makes you smile.

+++

The two of you end up snoozing on top of the covers after dinner, trying to get a little bit of sleep and adjust to the minor time change.

You’re curled in front of Aaron, his whole body snug around yours. His arm falls over your waist, his fingers laced between yours over your abdomen. It’s comforting to hear his breath, to feel it brush over your ear. His other hand curls beneath the pillow under your head.

There’s a moment where the surrealness of your positionality hits you again, just like it did a week after your first… everything with Aaron.

You’re here, on a case, wrapped in his arms, taking a nap, and pregnant with his child. Of all the things you could have anticipated, next to none of these were on the list of coulds, shoulds, or woulds. Your fingers tighten around his and he returns the gesture, holding you impossibly closer.

You’ve grown used to everything down to the way he brushes his teeth in the morning. When you return home from a case, your home smells of both of you - something you can’t describe, but you know it’s yours, together. It’s a strange thing to notice, surely, but his apartment always had a smell specific to him and Jack, even after the Haley in it faded in time.

Now, you’re the added piece of the environmental puzzle - the part that fits in so neatly you wouldn’t know to look for its absence.

The thoughts swirl around in your head, keeping you from sleep. Eventually, Aaron’s phone rings. You know exactly what it means, given the blossoming profile of these unsubs and the nature of their crimes.

“What is it, Emily?” Aaron answers, not unkindly. He just sounds tired. “...Yes. Alright… We’ll meet you there.”

He hangs up and turns to you. “Two more bodies.”

With a sigh, you get your shoes on and round the bed, tucking yourself into Aaron’s chest. He wraps his arms around you.

“You doing okay?” He asks.

You nod. “I just miss you. I miss this.”

He hums, thoughtful. “I miss this, too. It’ll be nice to be out on a couple of cases until JJ gets back.”

“You’re good to have around, you know.” You tap his chest over his shirt. “You’re pretty useful.”

He chuckles. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. Otherwise I’d have you recalled into the IOSS analyst division.”

“Give me a break,” you tell him with a snort. You step back. “You’d never catch me as an analyst.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “If you read your reports from behind my desk, you’d probably change your mind.”

“Good thing I don’t, then.”

+++

“Do you want to go in?” Emily asks when you arrive on-scene. You shake your head. “Let’s not push it. I’ll get statements from out here.”

She nods, leaving you outside with Aaron. Chief Montoya arrives a little while later but doesn’t greet you as he walks into the pharmacy. You can’t really blame him - this has to be difficult.

Collecting the statements isn’t too difficult, all things considered. There are very few witnesses, given the size of the town and the late hour. You and Aaron finish up with decent time to spare, waiting outside for the crime scene techs to finish their work.

The press arrives shortly thereafter, rolling up in their news vans and bathing the parking lot in bright white light. You watch as Chief Montoya confers with Emily before taking measured steps toward the door.

He handles the press with grace and integrity, looking more than a little worse for wear.

“You think he’s okay?” You ask Aaron.

He shakes his head. “No. I don't. His job is to keep this community safe, and now he feels responsible.”

Spencer walks out and waves you off to the side, away from the TV cameras and microphones.

“Victims are Randy McAdams, his niece Jane McAdams.” Spencer holds a little notepad, but you know it’s mostly for show. He just keeps it to fiddle with while he’s talking, finding a place to focus his eyes somewhere over your left shoulder. “The unsub looted the methamphetamine hydrochloride stores and the register before shooting both victims. They were facing each other, just like the victims in the diner.”

You sigh. “At least he’s keeping the ritual aspect consistent. You said unsub - was it both of them?”

“No. The surveillance footage only shows one of them, which means the partner was elsewhere.”

“That's a huge risk to stay in town and pull this so soon,” Aaron says.

“That’s what Emily said as well, but they're meth addicts, though. The risk may be of little consequence.”

Aaron hums. “Is the coroner’s office done in there?”

“Yeah,” Spencer replies. “Everything is bagged and tagged. Bodies are headed to autopsy now. If you’re asking specifically about biohazards, they’re minimized.” Spencer looks at you. “Should be safe for you to go in.”

You reach out to squeeze his shoulder before following Aaron into the pharmacy. Emily and the rest of the team, sans Tara who’s back at the station, stand in a small huddle.

“Six years ago they up and disappeared,” Dave says, “This one doesn't seem like part of their playbook. My money says it's the new guy.”

You tip your head. “Well, he was smart enough to hide his face and he didn't burn the place down. We still have to wait for the autopsy, but she's fully clothed. Doesn't look like there was sexual assault either.”

“But he still made them watch,” Dave points out. “Look. He positions them so they're facing each other. That aspect is important to him, almost compulsive.”

+++

The five of you return to the station when everything has settled down a little bit. Penelope, of course, has been working away since Emily sent over the latest batch of information.

You’re all stationed in the conference room when Penelope rings in.

“Hey, kid,” Dave says, “you got something good for us?”

“I am happy to report that I have finished my nationwide ViCAP search of criminals who like to make their victims watch them commit violent crimes,” she replies. “I'm sad to tell you it is an appallingly populated genre. I got a whole lot of bad boys and it's not even Saturday night.”

You crack a smile, looking up at Aaron. He returns it with a fond roll of his eyes. You turn back to the phone. “Well, narrow it down by surrounding states. The unsubs are probably from somewhere in the region.”

“And eliminate anybody over the age of forty-five,” Tara says. “These crimes are impulsive and violent. They're probably not that old.

“Copy you. That brings us down to four…” There’s another beep. “Ooh. Wait. Rewind. Actually two. 'Cause two of those guys have died.”

“What's that leave us?” Aaron asks.

“Uh, first up is forty-one-year-old Glen Capshaw from Yuma, Arizona. He made his nine-year-old son watch him beat up a bully's father. Apparently made the ten-year-old bully watch, too. Which is mean, but weirdly fair, maybe?”

You hum skeptically. “He doesn't fit our profile. Who else?”

“Okay, next up is twenty-six-year-old Lester Turner from Lubbock, Texas. When he was sixteen, he raped a fifteen-year-old girl, made her twelve-year-old brother watch. Beat up the brother really bad, too.”

“Well, that would explain the ritual aspect,” Emily says. “What else you got on this guy?”

“Uh, he served nine years, two of them in juvie, the rest of them at Texas State prison, which is owned by the Citadel Corrections company. He was released last year.”

“So, he was actually locked up during the Burger Corral incident.” Tara shifts her weight back where she stands, crossing her arms over her chest.

“They may have met in prison,” Emily says. “He could be his new partner. Garcia, give me everything you've got on Turner - known associates, cell mates, the whole nine.”

“On it,” Penelope chirps. “Stand by, queen of my heart.” The line falls silent.

+++

Conversation around the conference room and lots of scanner surfing fills the next hour. You’ve refused Emily’s subtle prompts to get you back to the hotel for a lie-down rather politely to this point, but a more pointed comment about taking it easy has your teeth on edge.

“Emily, damn it, I’m fine.”

Emily raises her eyebrows, but before she can say anything, your phone rings.

“Yeah, Pen, whatcha got?” You try to keep your tone light, but obviously fail because…

“Yikes, what’s gotten into your cornflakes?”

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine. Let me put you on speaker. What do you have for us?”

As promised, she delivers on speaker. “Besides the fact that I'm all hopped up on dark roast and espresso beans? I have intel to share. 'Tis why I have called thee.” She takes exactly one breath. “Deep background search into Lester Turner brought me down into a wicked place. Turned out he shared a cell block with a Benjamin Wade and a William Duke Mason.”

Emily tries to get ahead of Penelope’s caffeine-fueled findings. “What's so—“

“Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh!” Penelope rebuts. “You know better than to interrupt me when I'm all 'fiened out. You're gonna ask me what is so sinisterly special about Wade and Mason, and I'm going to tell you. They were messed up bikers, who, five years ago were arrested in El Paso for an armed robbery at a gas station where the clerk was killed. It turns out they tried to torch the place, but the cops came and caught them.”

You can almost see her satisfied smile. Even Emily’s soured mood in light of your bad attitude seems to have lightened.

“Alright, can you send—“

“Stop it. Check your tablets. It's already there.”

Emily tips her head. “Can I ask a question now?”

“Definitely not, because that's not the kicker. Get this. Before he dropped out of high school and ran away, William Duke Mason spent his junior year in what New Mexico town?” There’s a pause. “Yes, you may talk now.”

“Las Vegas,” Aaron offers. You look at him and the corner of his mouth curls up just a tiny bit. It’s a check-in.

Are you alright? Really?

You nod a little bit.

Tired of the babysitting?

Your deep, measured breath tells him all he needs to know.

“Precisely! See, Mason's name was on that list of ex-cons, but it wasn't flagged because he's actually from Dallas, and high school records weren't part of my search parameters, you guys.”

“Garcia, where are Wade and Mason now?” Spencer asks.

“Oh, I can tell you that definitely. Wade is still in prison because he was the shooter in that robbery, but Mason was paroled last month.”

Emily nods. “Lewis and I will fly to Texas and talk to Wade. Let's put out an APB on Turner and Mason.”

+++

Dave sidles up to you, settling just off your shoulder. “You’re looking a little chartreuse there, kid.”

You shake your head once as if to clear it. Apparently, you’ve been caught staring wistfully at Montoya’s coffee mug. “I hope it’s not the nausea,” you reply, laughing a little. “I miss coffee.”

Dave snorts. “Well, there’s more than one thing in that cup you’re not allowed to have.”

“What?” Your brow crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“Nevermind,” he says, waving you off. “Just an observation.”

Aaron appears in the archway. “Hey. Ready for profile delivery?”

You and Dave scramble for a second, grabbing your notes. You follow Aaron out to the bullpen, where the officers have gathered in front of the evidence board. Spencer is already there, fussing with some thumbtacks while he waits for you to get settled.

You get started, identifying the William Duke Mason of the original attacks and giving brief physical descriptions of him.

Aaron picks up where you left off. “William Duke Mason's mother Violet moved here from Dallas after she married a rancher named Jeff Koldyke, who worked for the Romero property for a short time.”

“Don't remember any of them,” Chief Montoya says.

Spencer nods. “It's not surprising you don't remember Mason. As a teenager, he would have been withdrawn.”

“Especially because we think he hated it here,” you add. “He was already fatherless, and then he was uprooted and dragged to a new place where he had no friends. As a teenager, that can be traumatic and may somehow be a source of animosity towards the town itself.”

“Who's that guy?” One of the officers asks.

“His name is Ben Wade,” Spencer supplies. “We actually have reason to believe that he was involved in the Burger Corral murder six years ago.” He passes it off to Aaron again.

“Five years ago, Wade and Mason were arrested in Texas. So we know they were partners back then. Then in prison, they met Lester Turner. Turner gets released and a few months later Mason gets out. A partnership is born.”

You nod, picking up. “A lot of criminal ego in play. So we think they may have come back here in order to emulate the success they had with their old partnership.”

“They're methamphetamine users,” Spencer says, “so it's likely the limbic systems in their brains have been damaged. This is disconcerting, because it can dramatically alter behavior and give rise to a series of psychopathic tendencies and eventually turn into full-blown psychosis.”

He’s right. Even then, you have to point out, “The dynamic between Turner and Mason is rare, like two Alpha males co-existing.”

“A rift will grow between these two if it hasn't already,” Aaron adds. “In fact, we're counting on it. Hopefully, they'll make a mistake. Thank you.”

Montoya stands. “Alright. Let's get to it.”

A little rumble of affirmation ripples through the assembled officers as they disperse. You and Aaron head back into the conference room almost immediately, finding something to do in there.

“How did that go, you think?” You ask.

Aaron’s eyebrow lifts. “I think it went alright.” He glances over his shoulder. “I think Rossi has the rest covered.”

Your gaze follows his. “What do you mean?”

“I think….” Aaron’s chin tips as Chief Montoya turns to leave. “...We might have some light work for the EAP if he doesn’t follow Rossi’s advice.”

You snort. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was. I told Dave if he could take care of it one-on-one, we would wait to alert city council. Not sure if it’ll stick, but our first priority is these unsubs.”

“Agreed.”

+++

A little while later, one of the officers runs in with a note from dispatch. He passes it to Aaron. “We’ve got a report of a homicide and property crime on the outside of town. Two witnesses left behind. We’re starting the scene with a couple of patrol units, but I thought you guys might like to check it out.”

You read the details over Aaron’s shoulder. “Thank you, lieutenant. We’ll definitely want to check this out. Are there any more details on the witnesses?”

“Yes!” He says. “Caller said there was a man and his son.”

“Perfect.” You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “Please let the Sergeant know that nobody is to interview the child until we arrive. Dr. Reid and I are trained in children’s forensic interviews. It could damage your case to take a statement without the training.”

He nods. “I’ll get right on that, ma’am.”

A hand on your shoulder stops you before you can get your coat. It’s Aaron.

There’s this indecipherable look on his face, one that you’ve seen a few times.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how lucky we are to have you on this team.”

“What did I do this time?”

“Nothing. I miss seeing you do your job.”

You reach out and he takes your hand. “Ready to go?”

He nods. “Yes, Agent Hotchner. Following your lead.”

+++

Spencer takes the lead on the forensic interview while you take notes. The witnesses are incredibly helpful.

Aaron wanders out of the gas station just as you finish up. “All the surveillance has been destroyed. What'd the father say?”

“There were two of them,” Spencer replies. “Both on motorcycles, both matching the descriptions of Turner and Mason.”

Aaron squints, looking off into the distance. “They let them live. I wonder why.”

You step up, checking your notes. “They said the one with the short hair just stood there pointing his weapon but never pulled the trigger.”

“That must have been Mason.”

“Apparently the other one wanted to shoot them, Mason wouldn't let him, they had a brief argument and then fled. But here's the thing - they've never left a survivor before.” You close your little notepad. “I think something between them must have changed. If they were arguing, it could mean the partnership's dissolving, exactly like we thought.”

“These guys are headed south, maybe Mexico,” Aaron says. “We should alert border patrol.”

+++

The ride back to the station is quiet enough after Aaron has finished all his phone calls. Spencer is nearly asleep, his head tipped back and eyes closed.

Aaron reaches across the console. You take his hand.

+++

Your written expert witness testimony is blurring before your eyes while you sit behind your laptop. You’ve said it before and you’ll say it again: court is the worst part of your job. It’s the mind-numbing desk work you’re not looking forward to in the spring.

“Agents.”

You look up, finding Chief Montoya in the doorway.

“Chief,” Dave says. “You're back.”

“I made some phone calls. One of my guys knows a girl who went to high school with Duke Mason. She said he used to date a girl named Tammy Vasquez. Even after they graduated, I guess he still would come around. Anyway, the rumor is he got her pregnant.”

“Is she still here?” You ask.

Montoya nods. “She sure is. Lives just outside of town.”

Spencer’s already on the phone. “Garcia, tell me everything you can about a Tammy Vasquez. She's from here in Las Vegas.” He puts her on speaker while she types away.

“Um... Tammy May Vasquez. She is a waitress at the Spic and Span Diner in New Mexico. She has a five-year-old son named Cole.” She pauses, clicking her tongue behind her teeth. “He's a cutie.”

“So, she must have gotten pregnant right around that first set of murders.,” Tara says.

“What can you tell us about Cole's father?” Dave asks.

“Absolutely nothing,” Penelope replies. “It says father unknown on the birth certificate.”

Your brow furrows. “What if Tammy is the reason Mason came back?”

“Send us an address, Penelope.” Spencer looks at Aaron. “We should talk to her.”

“Sent!”

“I can get you up there quick if you don't mind an escort.” Montoya offers.

“Yeah,” You reply. “That would be great. Let me call Emily while you guys get on the road.”

+++

Instead of fussing and getting shot down again, you take a seat at the table with the scanners while the rest of the team gets ready to roll.

You look up as Emily calls for Aaron. “Hey, Hotch. You’ll need a hand coordinating those roadblocks.” She tips her head toward you. “Get some fresh air. We’ll meet you back here when it’s over.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you get up and grab your things. Aaron almost hides a smile, but you’re better at catching them than the rest.

“Don’t look so smug,” you tell him. “It’s not like this was your idea.”

He shrugs, following you out to the door with his hands in his pockets.

+++

You reach the state highway and Aaron hits the gas. He’s always done that to make you smile, to watch your head press back into the seat out of the corner of his eye.

After he hits cruising speed, you turn your head to look at him. “You’re very handsome today.”

Aaron smiles, just the smallest upturn of his lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. It’s probably the sunglasses.”

“These?” He asks, tapping the frames. “If my memory serves, someone very smart and very beautiful bought them for me.”

You nod. Even though he’s not looking, you know he can see you. “I did. For your forty-fifth birthday, if my memory serves.”

“It does.” He reaches across the console and takes your hand, kissing the back of it without taking his eyes from the road.

The rest of the drive is quiet as he hums over the New Mexico highway.

+++

“I hear some praise is in order, Chief,” you say, walking back into the station. “Good shooting out there.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. Your people did the good work.”

“It’s a team effort,” you insist.

The conversation bounces around for a little while, but the wrap-up is pretty quick. You’re not quite sure what all happened when the chief took the afternoon to himself, but it seems to have paid off in spades.

Emily pulls you aside, her fingers glancing off your sleeve.

You cross your arms under your chest and tip your head, waiting and listening.

She just chuckles, brushing off the implication of your posture. “Don’t be so defensive. I just wanted to tell you that you did good work today and I’m happy we were able to find something safe for you to do outside of the precinct.” She reaches for you and you uncross your arms, letting your hand fall into hers. “How are you? Really?”

“Who am I talking to?”

“Your friend. Also, your supervisor, assessing morale.” The twist of her mouth tips you off to her sarcasm.

You sigh. “I’m frustrated. I don’t love feeling shut down all the time.”

“It would be easier to avoid shutting you down if you didn’t insist on volunteering for dangerous fieldwork.” It’s only half a joke.

She’s not wrong. It would be a lot easier if you swallowed your pride and stopped getting out of your chair.

The kicked puppy look doesn’t help, either.

“Right.” You tip your head. “I get it. It’s just…”

“- It’s an adjustment,” she finishes for you. “And I know it’s even harder to be grounded with JJ out and now Morgan.” Her hand is warm where it rests on your forearm. “I promise nobody expects any more or less of you than they did before.”

You cover her hand with your own. “Thanks, Em.”

“Of course.” Her lips curl up into a warm smile. Her eyes shift to something over your shoulder. With a squeeze of your arm, she lets you go.

You turn and find Aaron waiting behind you with your coat. You let him put it over your shoulders and wrap his arm around you.

“Ready to go?”

+++

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic #fem reader

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bluemusickid · 3 years

Text

A Love So True: Part 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem! Reader

Warnings: none so far, angst, fluff, eventual smut, 18+, MINORS DNI

A/N: This took a bit of time, but I hope it lives up to your expectations! I'm a hoe for good angst, and this was just an outlet ig. Many people have said that it reminds them of the movie The Vow, with Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams. While I have seen that movie, this one will be slightly different. The main inspiration behind ALST is this story, of a woman named Laura Hart Faganello.

Minors DNI, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, nowhere else. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work. Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-in-darkness @firefly-graphics 💓

Join my taglist and check out my masterlist for more!!

Gif credits: @a7estrellas 💓

Part 1

Chris caressed your photo, lovingly, his fingers trailing over your face. Every moment without you was killing him. Looking into your eyes, he didn't see the love that he craved. He saw attraction, intrigue even, but not the love he knew and craved. It was polite countenance.

He couldn't bear that. He would rather your ire, than your unfamiliarity.

He shook himself, placing the photo back hastily. He had his family by his side: Carly, Scott, Shanna and his mom. And Dodger, of course. But most importantly, he had his love for you, which would bring you back.

He was sure of it.

He saw you walking into the park, in an outfit he'd always loved on you. You walked to him, a warm smile adorning your lips. He loved that about you, your smile. It made him feel like the world was brighter by 200%.

You took a seat next to him, taking in his outfit. He was really good looking. But not in an arrogant way. In the way where he would turn heads with his charisma and charm, and confidence. You took a seat next to him, handing him a cup of coffee.

"What's this?"

"I stopped on the way at Starbucks and thought I'd get something for you. I hope you like it. If not, feel free to chuck it in the trash."

He smiled. Taking the cup from your hand, he took a sip of the drink, the bitter taste of coffee with hints of arabica overwhelming his senses. He loved it. It was his favourite coffee, and she picked it out. Briefly, his heart fluttered at the thought that maybe, somewhere, she remembered him. It made him feel better about this whole arrangement.

You watched him take small sips of his coffee, mesmerised at the sight of him really enjoying it. You didn't know why, but it felt really good that he liked it. You didn't know how, or why, but while ordering at the shop, the order just rolled off your tongue, like it was a habit, or muscle memory of sorts. You'd shrugged it off then, thinking it was probably your gut instinct telling you so. Or perhaps you'd been soulmates and partners in a former life. The thought made you chuckle.

Chris looked at you, bemused. "What?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just thinking about how you seem familiar to me and I just...thought that we might've known each other in a past life or something. Sounds weird and lame, I know."

He smiled shyly, looking at the ground. "Do you believe in past lives and soulmates?" He asked, his eyes searching yours. If it were someone else, you would've been creeped out and uncomfortable with the question and the eye contact. But not with Chris. He was different. Why? You didn't know.

"I..sort of do, I guess. Like, not in the way most people do, like kindred spirits and unbreakable bonds and all that. But I do think that if two souls are meant to be together, they will find a way, no matter what the hindrances or obstacles."

His heart swelled. Your candid confession gave him the hope he thought was gone forever. Maybe you did remember him, past life or not.

"We might've been together in a past life, which only proves one point."

"Which is?" You asked, dryly.

"It means that since we were probably together in a previous life, we should definitely give this...courtship a try in this life. Who knows, it might be better than the last life." He said with a wink, a grin adorning his lips.

You smiled. Time spent with Chris would certainly not be boring.

The days went by steadily, and so grew your relationship with Chris. He took you on many dates, to the most charming places ever; museums, parks, skating rinks. Time seemed to stand still when you were with him; which was an antithesis because two months seemed to just whizz by! You'd even been to dinner with his mom, who seemed like a wonderful lady. She, too, seemed familiar, but you didn't stress about it. It was probably your brain acting up, replacing people and memories.

You went to therapy more regularly now, Chris being a regularly occuring topic. He truly was the perfect man; caring, loving and perceptive to all your needs. There were one or two times where you thought that he would kiss you, hold you, but he maintained a distance, giving you time. At most, he would give you a warm hug, or a small peck on your forehead, but that was it. It was almost too perfect, you felt. You'd told your parents about him, but the reaction you'd gotten was lukewarm, and you didn't know why. It had bothered you, because it wasn't like them to not be happy for you.

Work was going well, too. You'd gotten a few interviews, and Chris helped you prep for that as well. You sat with him, laughing at his inane impressions of people and workplaces till the wee hours of the morning. The interview went well, and you'd started off your job on a good note, which you partly thought was because of his help in prepping.

You started inviting him for dinner more often, the house feeling more and more like a home. Living away from your parents was tough, but you felt like you needed your own space, especially now more than ever. Even if you didn't regain your old memories, it was important to you to make new ones. Although there wasn't a name you'd given to this courtship, it felt right. It felt like you were meant to be together.

It was a normal Friday evening, you'd called him over for dinner, which was animated, as always. He was telling you about his work, and how fulfilling it was everytime one of his clients walked away, happy with his work. You listened on, enthralled and enchanted, truly in awe of this man. He was getting ready to leave after dinner, but you felt a pang in your heart. The feeling of being incomplete was growing with each second. Calling out his name, you grabbed his arm, slowly pulling him into your house as he looked on in bewilderment. Rising up on your tiptoes, you gazed into his eyes as you held his face, slowly touching your lips to his. He stood there, shell-shocked, as if in a dream, making no attempts to touch you. He seemed to break out of his reverie soon, though, his hands encircling your waist and gently pulling you to him, holding you closer. He deepened the kiss, as if beseeching you, asking you for something. It felt like he was pouring everything he had into the kiss, holding your face, his thumb grazing your jaw ever so slightly. Breaking apart, he touched his forehead to yours, not ready to let go of you.

"That was..." he breathed, speech evading him.

"I know." You replied, looking into his eyes. They had darkened, his pupils wide and his mouth slightly slack. You wanted more, you needed to feel him, to hold him. You needed him in every possible way; not lust-fuelled, but something more powerful. It seemed crazy but you felt like he was the one for you.

Much to your dismay, he pulled away, whispering, "would you like to have dinner with me this Friday? At my house, as my...girlfriend?"

Your head shot up at that, bemusement evident on your face. "Are you serious?!"

"About which part, the house or the girlfriend?"

You slapped him playfully, "the girlfriend part, you dummy! Took you long enough!"

He laughed as he pulled you closer, his heartbeat steady against your ear. Your heart fluttered at the thought of being at his house. He'd never talked about his family a lot before, so going to his house would be like getting a peek into his life. Placing a peck on his lips, you agreed, embracing him with all that you had. You couldn't believe how much he'd meant to you in such a short time.

You kissed him again, softly, wanting nothing more than to pull him inside and take him to bed. Alas, he pulled away soon, much to your disappointment, leaving with a small peck to your forehead.

"See you this Friday, sweetheart."

You woke up on Friday morning, your heart lurching as you thought about meeting Chris. It had been a busy few days, so you hadn't been able to meet him, only texting and calling. He'd been busy at work as well, so it had been the longest you'd gone without talking, making you realise how much you'd missed him. Was that normal in a relationship? You'd never had a relationship last for more than a year, and even then you never felt like you did with Chris. It was weird. And exciting. And a little scary. You woke up, a skip in your step as you began to get ready for work.

It had been an exceptionally good day. The meetings went well, your manager was pleased with your work and your coworkers were slowly becoming very good friends.

Evening came, and brought with it pre-date jitters. Sure, you'd been on many dates with him till now, but you felt this to be different. It was kind of a big step, and you didn't want to mess it up by scaring him or freaking him out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed down and started getting ready, picking out a red dress and your Louboutins. You looked taller with them and let's face it, it really showed your ass off. Not that that mattered, you thought to yourself. Or did it? Was it finally time to take the next step? Because even God knew you were ready for it. And longing for it.

The bell rang and with it, so did your heart flutter. You were gonna take a cab but Chris insisted on driving you, stubborn man that he was.

You opened the door, completely floored at what you saw. Chris looked different. He looked...hot. Not that he wasn't hot before, but now he looked really hot, like GQ Men's Issue Cover Hot. He was wearing deep blue jeans with a black dress shirt, his black jacket sitting snugly across his broad shoulders. Honestly, he was sex on legs; quite a departure from his chocolate boy look. There was no doubt about it, you were gonna jump him later on.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" He teased, raising his eyebrow.

"You look amazing. This is..a pleasant surprise, for sure." You hoped your gawking was taken as a compliment, your cheeks heating.

"Thanks. So do you sweetheart, you look breathtaking." He remarked, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Shall we?"

You were short of words. His house was truly breathtaking. The drive itself was pretty short, about 15 minutes or so. But standing inside the huge place, it was surreal. That instant jolt of deja vu hit you again, but you chose to ignore it. This was your time with Chris, and you didn't want to ruin it by overthinking.

There was a warm feel to the house. It was very him; welcoming, beckoning you to stay. The walls were adorned with pictures of his family, his sisters, his nephews and nieces. It was so adorable. You heard a small bark at the distance, and turning around you saw a tan and white dog run upto you, its tail wagging to the nines. He jumped on you, whining in happiness and excitement. You giggled, petting him and stroking him with matched excitement. He was adorable and lovable, just like his owner.

"And who is this handsome young man?"

"This is Dodger, my boy. Though he seems to have forgotten his manners!" The latter remark was meant for Dodger, who was still whining and pacing around the room, unable to contain his joy.

"Whoa! Anyone would think he's seeing me after a long time; the way he's whining! What a good boy!"

You didn't notice Chris' smile falter a bit, oblivious about the words that were spoken. He felt a pang of hurt but was happy, at the same time. It was bittersweet; a reunion of sorts, but one of you didn't know the other. He watched as you sat down to give Dodger belly pats and rubs, kissing him softly on his snout. Dodger whimpered, licking every inch of your face and hands.

"Dodge, c'mon buddy, behave. Go get your toy, fetch!"

You giggled, sputtering after the intense love attack. Chris laughed, snapping a few pics for good measure.

"Why don't you get cleaned up, there's a bathroom right down the hall, in my room. I'll get dinner ready till you do."

You walked down the hallway, taking in the various showpieces and ornaments adorning the walls. You really loved the feel of this house. It was like you'd been here all your life.

Walking into the bathroom, you washed your hands but noticed a lack of a drying towel. Typical man, you thought dryly.

"Chris? Is there a drying towel or something here?"

"Uhhhh yeah, just try the drawer by the fireplace." He shouted, distracted.

Sifting through the different chests of drawers, you hunted for a towel, trying not to see his stuff. You were sure he'd not mention it, but there were some boundaries you had to maintain, no matter how open he was. Or seemed to be.

After rifling through his drawer for a minute, you finally found a napkin, albeit your hands were already dry. Oh well, you thought, better late than never.

Shaking your head, you went to close the drawer, but it wouldn't budge. Trying again, you shoved harder, eager to get back to the dinner. Frustrated, you dug through the drawer to find the source of obstruction, your hands feeling a wooden frame. You pulled it out, curiosity getting the better of you. You wished you hadn't, though. Because what you saw shook you to your very core. You felt like you would collapse to the floor.

"Heyyy, dinner's almost ready, I've put in an extra loaf of garlic bread in case I eat too much.." Chris trailed off, astonished by your tense stance and lack of words.

"Sweetheart...? Is everything..ok?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him. You didn't know if you should be scared, or hurt, or angry. All you knew is that you wanted to be away from him. Your legs moved as if detached from your mind, each step taking you further away from him. You could faintly hear his voice calling out to you, but you didn't stop. You didn't stop walking till you reached his door, opening it, letting the bitterly cold breeze attack you; mirroring the numbness you felt inside. There was only one thing playing in your mind over and over again, in a loop.

The photo of you and Chris, kissing passionately on a beach.

He knew who you were. He'd known all along.

AAAGH SORRY DON'T KILL ME PLS BUT YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT🥺💓😭 hope y'all like it, my pre-publishing jitters are setting in and I'm not sure if people will like it or not😔🥺💓

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ardentmuse · 2 years

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Hello, lovely humans!

This blog is officially ACTIVE. And I couldn’t be more excited to getting back to writing for pleasure.

As many of you know, a few years ago I took a leap into writing professionally and now I am a full-time interactive fiction narrative designer, writer, and editor. While I adore my job, I also spend most of my time writing things based on storylines designed by others, few things solely of my own invention. And writing begets more writing. The more you do it, the more you want to do it, the more you are stimulated by the act itself. And so, even though my writing schedule is more busy than ever, I need to counter it with writing that is strictly for fun, otherwise I am going to burn out completely.

So thanks for your patience on this journey. I am SO THRILLED to celebrate with you.

To celebrate, we’re going to do some stories based on prompts and add some new fandoms to the mix.

(yes, the good place gifs are back)

The Rules:

Must be following me (@ardentmuse)

Must submit me an ask with a number of a prompt and a character

Must like this post

Please reblog, but this isn’t required :)

Only one submission per person, please!

Block “#ardentmuse welcome back” if you don’t want to see these for whatever reason (though some of my best work comes from prompts)

Each ask will become a reader-insert imagine. Aiming for ~1k words for each of these, but we’ll see where the spirits take me.

Note that these will be slower than my previous turn around on these. My goal is one per day, to be cut off in ~3 weeks, so it is likely I won’t get to every prompt. I’ll do my best.

Character list and prompt list below the cut.

Hugs, Lia

Characters:

Note: all responses will be reader inserts (no x ships). Also, this list is off the top of my head so if I missed anyone that you really want to see, let me know.

*Bold represents characters I am absolutely in love with writing at the moment, so those requests would make me so happy

Harry Potter:

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Percy Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ron Weasley

Harry Potter

Neville Longbottom

Draco Malfoy

Cedric Diggory

Oliver Wood

Severus Snape

Sirius Black

James Potter

Remus Lupin

HPHM:

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Talbott Winger

Barnaby Lee

Murphy McNully

Orion Amari

Andre Egwu

Jae Kim

Diego Caplan

ASOIAF / Game of Thrones:

Ned Stark

Robb Stark

Jon Snow

Bran Stark

Tyrion Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Robert Baratheon

Stannis Baratheon

Theon Greyjoy

Gendry (Waters)

Podrick Payne

Sandor Clegane

Petyr Baelish

Kingsman:

Harry Hart

Merlin (Hamish Mycroft)

Eggsy Unwin

Tequila

Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

James Spenser (Lancelot)

Love Island: The Game:

Jake Wilson

Bobby McKenzie

Gary Rennell

Henrik

Lucas Koh

Ibrahim

Noah

Bruno

Will

Lovelink:

Antoine Dawson / Noah Cruz

Brett O’Hara

Cianán Ó Faoláin

Dr. Vile

Jay Perry

Gabe Scott

Garrett Brown / Rory O´Brien

Hugo Hornsby / Marco Bottazzi

Taylor (Hugo / Marco’s route)

Nicholas Adley

Nick Klaus

Nori Cove

River Nightshade

Salvatore Luciano

The Prompts from Futurama:

Good news, everyone.

At the risk of sounding negative, no.

I love Y/N, always and forever.

This is it. The moment we should have trained for.

For a split second, my common sense was overwhelmed by pity.

I never even told her I loved her.

Well, you obviously won’t listen to reason.

It’s when women are polite to each other you know there’s a problem.

...plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing.

When you look this good, you don’t have to know anything.

Hey, sexy mama.

This is the worst kind of discrimination. The kind against me.

Thank you all for the inspiring advice, but I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.

Life is about decisions.

Oh wait, you’re serious.

You leave me breathless.

Everyone, I have a very dramatic announcement.

We can all fight when we’re drunk.

It’s all so complicated with the flowers and the romance and the lies upon lies.

I’m feeling a strange new emotion I have never felt before.

You lost the woman of your dreams but you still have [xxxx].

Let’s knock this up a notch!

Gimme your biggest, strongest, cheapest drink!

I know who you are. You're the woman I've waited for my entire life.

You know what cheers me up? Other people’s misfortune.

I really ought to do something but I am already in my pajamas.

Valentine’s Day is coming up?

I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.

Of course I'm being irrational, I'm in love!

Let's get the hell out of here already!

What the hell is that thing?

You know, someone ought to teach you a lesson.

You should say something else.

It really makes me happy to see you right now.

What kind of party is this?

I can explain.

But of everyone I ever dated, you're probably in the top ten.

It's been quite a journey.

What a thoughtful and considerate thing for you to say.

Look, I know it's not much consolation. But, I understand how you feel.

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 3 years

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📖Masterlist📖

Here, you can find all the imagines I wrote.

💌 = Request

🎁 = Gift

🔎Sherlock (BBC)

Save your tears... (Mycroft X Male!Reader) 🎁

🩸Hannibal (NBC)

I don’t want to wake up from you (Will X Fem!Reader) 💌

Maneater (Hannibal X Male!Reader) (TW: Mentions of smut and violence) 🎁

An hurricane in my kitchen (Will X Fem!Reader) 💌

Papa, don’t preach... (Hannibal & Fem!Reader X Will Graham) 💌

🐺Teen Wolf

Beware the alpha! (Derek Hale X Male!Reader) 💌

🦸‍♂️MCU (Avengers, X-Men, GOTG, Fantastic Four, Agents of SHIELD, Agent Carter...)

You’re my sunshine (Helmut Zemo & Male!Reader) 🎁

🔦Criminal Minds

I’ll be brave for you... (Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader) 🎁

🦸‍♀️DCEU (Justice League, BVS, Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey, Titans, The Flash, Arrow...)

Play me me like a violin (Bruce Wayne X Male!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Sweet but psycho (Roman Sionis X Male!Reader) (TW: Violence) 🎁

Sending my love to you... (Roman Sionis X Fem!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Miss Independent... (Victor Zsasz X Fem!Reader) 🎁

The only one I need (Roman Sionis X Fem!Reader) 💌

War of the fathers, peace of the sons (Zsasmask and Male!OC & Maxwell Lord and Male!OC) 🎁

Who’s laughing now? (Joker VS Fem!Reader & Harley Quinn) (TW: Swearing & Violence) 🎁

Primal fears... (Zsaszmask and Male!OC & Maxwell Lord and Male!OC) 🎁

💥Inglourious Basterds

Innocents don’t shed blood (Donny X Fem!Reader) 💌

Speaking her language (Wilhelm Wicki X Fem!Reader) 💌

Severed blood ties (Hans Landa & Male!Reader) 🎁

We’re in heaven (Hugo Stiglitz X Fem!Reader) 💌

The Apache and The Comedian (Aldo Raine X Male!Reader) 💌

Let her be mine and mine alone... (Hans Landa & Fem!Reader x Omar Ulmer) 💌

Amour à la française (Aldo Raine X Fem!Reader!) 💌

There’s no mountain high enough... (Wilhelm Wicki X Fem!Reader & Child!OC) 🎁

You better run... (FemaleOC! & The Basterds) 🎁🎃

Run to you... (Donny Donowitz X Fem!Reader) 💌

Birthday Girl (Aldo Raine X Fem!Reader) 💌🎁

All against odds (Wilhelm Wicki X Male!Reader) 🎁

🗼Pacific Rim/Kong: Skull Island/Godzilla

Written in the stars (Nate Lambert X Fem!Reader) 🎁

😈Lucifer

An unholy seduction (Lucifer X Male!Reader) 💌

My mama is the best man in the universe (Lucifer and Male!Spirit!OC) (Father-son relationship) 💌

😇Good Omens

My boyfriend is back (Crowley X Demon!Fem!Reader) 💌

🤵Kingsman: The Secret Service

Too old for her? (Harry Hart X Fem!Reader) 🎁

🔮Harry Potter

Love is like a tornado (Remus Lupin X Fem!Reader) 💌

It’s just the price I pay (Hermione Granger X Male!Reader) 🎁

Falling (in love)... (Remus Lupin X Fem!Reader) 💌

🔥The Witcher

The deepest soul (Geralt X Mermaid!Fem!Reader) 💌

Music is my way to say I love you (Jaskier X Fem!Reader) (AU) 💌

Put your wings on me (Jaskier X Fae!Fem!Reader) 💌

Love song... (Jaskier X Bard!Fem!Reader) 💌

I will find you (Jaskier X Fem!Reader) 💌

💣James Bond Movies

Velvet Tango (James Bond X Fem!Reader) 💌

You targeted my heart (James Bond X Fem!Reader) 💌

Sugar Boy... (James Bond X Male!Reader) 💌

Don’t worry child... (Gareth Mallory & Male!OC) 🎁

In my arms... (James Bond X Male!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Like a porcelain doll... (Ernst Stavro Blofeld & Fem!OC) 🎁

Unconditionally... (Gareth Mallory X Fem!Reader) 🎁

Come what may (Gareth Mallory X Male!OC) 🎁

No more secrets (00Q X Male!OC) 💌

I care for you (Gareth Mallory X Fem!Reader) 💌

🏹Shadowhunters

🪔Merlin (BBC)

For my king (Arthur X Fem!Reader) 🎁

Under your spell (Merlin X Fem!Reader) 💌

🎭Prodigal Son

Mystery Girl (Malcolm Bright X Fem!Reader) 🎁

🤴The Crown

I’d put a crown at your feet... (Philip X Male!Reader) (Part I) 💌

All Hail to my king (Philip X Male!Reader) (Part 2) 💌

Give us a chance (Charles X Male!OC) 💌

A royal affair (Margaret X Male!OC) 🎁

🦇Gotham

The art of seduction (Oswald Cobblepot X Fem!Reader) 💌

🧙‍♂️The Lord of The Rings/The Hobbit

The King’s precious gem (Thranduil X Male!Reader) 💌

💀Pirates of the Caribbean

Something fishy... (Jack Sparrow X Fem!Reader) 💌

As wild as the sea... (James Norrington X Fem!Reader) 🎁

⭐Star Wars (Episode I to IX, The Mandalorian...)

Silent words, loud gestures... (Din Djarin X Fem!Reader) 💌

⚽Football (France NT, different players...)

The player & the writer (Antoine Griezmann X Male!Reader) 💌

My only one (Lucas Paquetá X Fem!Reader) 💌

If you are interested and you wanted a tailored story, please read the rules before requesting!

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jadeverse-asks · 2 months

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Hey everyone! (read here for main blog rules!)

I have gained quite a collection of unusual/unpopular F/Os lately over the past few years, so I've decided it'd be a fun idea to open up this blog and have anyone send in x reader/headcanon asks if they happen to like them as well :)

Who I write for atm! (will be updated if a new F/O is gained!)

Telltale Batman (Telltale Bruce Wayne and John Doe/Telltale Joker, main husbands atm don't ask me :3)

MLP (Sunset Shimmer, Limestone/Marble Pie, Pipp Petals, Hitch Trailblazer and Autumn Blaze preferred!)

Sonic (Espio the Chameleon)

Mina and the Count (The Count)

Little Monsters 1989 (Maurice)

Goosebumps (Slappy, movie versions only)

The Guava Juice Show (Hart Spirit)

Teen Titans (Mad Mod)

Scooby Doo (Velma Dinkley, any version save for THAT version is okay!)

Tiny Toons (Fifi La Fume, aged up though and the reboot version of her is allowed too!)

Puss in Boots the Last Wish (Big Jack Horner)

Helluva Boss (Queen Bee)

Eddsworld (Edd only)

Inside Job (Reagan Ridley)

The Simpsons (Sideshow Bob and Jacques)

Flint the Time Detective (Merlock Holmes aka Narugami Kyoichiro)

Gorillaz (2-D)

Danny Phantom (Vlad Masters/Plasmius)

Treasure Island (Dr. Livesey, 1988 film version)

Loonatics Unleashed (Rev Runner)

Dad'X (Striker/Foudror, this cartoon/fandom is kinda obscure btw but I still decided to include him!)

TF2 (Medic and Sniper)

Braindead13 (Vivi the Vampire)

Now for rules!

-I can write both SFW and NSFW, however fetish/abuse/death/anything else weird is not allowed

-Any gender/pronoun is allowed for asks!

-Reply times to asks may depend on how busy I am, and GIFs of your asked character may be included with my answers :)

-I don't really tend to chat and just take asks, so keep that in mind about me!

-And finally my inbox is always open, and have fun simping and asking! >3

#telltale batman #xreader #headcanon #tf2 #mlp #eddsworld #dadx #fandoms #ask me anything #ask me stuff #ask me things #send asks #the simpsons #helluva boss

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

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Hc’s for being in a poly relationship with Spike and Angel:

Request: Also is it only fics or headcanons also well? Some soft, sweet poly Spangel x reader headcanons?? Could be set whenever you feel like it would work the best. Like, that fluffy sugar shit. We all need fluff in our lives.

Requested by: 🏜 anon

The s/o / reader here is human and gn.

A/N: This request actually reminded me I have a half-finished fic that was actually one of my first ever requests on here ever – it was a spangel x reader and I asked for more of a plot and never got a reply !! Now I’m thinking: Make a plot yourself lol. So, look out for that coming out soon

- None of you would ever feel alone

- Ever

- Not physically, not emotionally

- One of you would always be around to comfort the other

- You were connected

- Souls or spirits that just fit together

- You all worked together, lived together

- At Wolfram and Hart

- But somehow it just worked.

- Kisses are literally all the time

- Sneaking around the office

- Angel’s not really one for pda

- but he can’t resist either of you

- People don’t usually get it when they hear about it

- But when they catch you so freely giving such affection

- Without jealousy or worry

- Their hearts melt a little

- You’re a solid unit

- You ground each other, you have this innate knowledge of what the others need

- Coming back to your shared home is bliss

- Seeing your vampires nestled together in bed in the late afternoon

- embracing each other

- Always brings such a wide smile to your face

- Because at the end of a long day

- (or an even longer apocalypse)

- You could come home to each other

- You always crawl into bed and feel the love surrounding you

- They will sense you immediately, hands reaching for you

- bodies drawn towards yours

- Even through the deepest sleep

- Their bodies moving almost in sync

- To reach you

- Cuddling up in the evenings was always bliss

- They always wrapped themselves around you

- Stealing your body heat and sharing it

- Nobody was ever left lacking

- Whispering affections

- Soft kisses, gentle reassurances

- Sandwiching together or spooning

- Soft squabbling over who got to be the littlest spoon

- (It was usually Spike)

- You often ended up in the middle of them both

- An all-encompassing hug surrounding you

- A hand on your body, someone else’s moving up the other vampires arm

- It was safety

- You all felt protected, comfortable

- Sharing your lives was bliss

- Usually, by the end of the night/day you were in a tangled pile

- But it was always so cosy just resting against them

- trailing patterns against their skin

- Spike and Angel sharing languid kisses as you were squished between them

- Sunday mornings were your favourites

- It was just the three of you

- They would always wake up for you to share the day

- Some days you treated them to blood in bed

- Other times you woke up to hushed squabbling in the kitchen

- Them making you human food

- With Spike insisting to Angel that some of the hideous combinations would work

- And Angel (against his better judgement) goes along with it

- Because he’s never been much for human food

- it was always the thought that counted

- There was so much love between you.

- You all knew how good you had it, how lucky you were

#Spangel #Spangel x reader #Spike btvs #Angel btvs #Spike x reader #Angel x reader #Angel btvs x reader #headcanons #Spangel hc #btvs #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs hc #buffyverse hc #headcanon

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Masterlist (Updated 14/12/2019)

This list contains: Marvel, Peaky Blinders, Vikings, Game Of Thrones, Sons of Anarchy, Kingsman, The Hobbit, The 100, The Riot Club, American Horror Story and Merlin

Marvel

Avengers:

That’s Just Wrong

We Irritating

Steve Rogers:

Come Back To Me

1940′s Day

We Lost Them

‘I Could Never Have This’

Rapunzel

Language Of Love

Wrong Lover Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

You Abandoned Me Series 11/11:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Bucky Barnes:

1940′s Day

Hold My Hand

Wardrobe Malfunction / Part 2

For You

Delirious Confessions

Mr and Mrs Barnes

Our First Night

The Butterfly Effect (Powers!Reader)

‘He’s gone, but I’ve got you’

Wrong Lover Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Tony Stark:

Salt ‘n’ Pepper

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

New Menu

Not Alone

‘We’ve both had a shitty day, so let’s just stay in and cuddle.’

Thor Odinson:

A New Ruler

New Haircut

History of Our Worlds

Looks Aren’t Always Everything

Loki:

Mischief In The Making

Peter Quill:

Mother Figure

Peter Parker:

Stay Out Of My Way

Secret Dreams

A Bad Disguise

Door To Door

Millionaire Mentor

‘You knew I was going to ask you out?’

Hiding

‘I know how much you love her.’

Saying The Wrong Things

Paying My Respects

Stephen Strange:

The Doctor’s Daughter (Powers!Reader)

Sam Wilson:

Wingman

I Found

Wanda Maximoff:

A Trip To The Museum

A Different Person

Broken Hands

Pietro Maximoff:

A Trip To The Museum

Brock Rumlow:

Workplace Drama

Unprofessional

Jack Thompson:

The Right Kinda Gal

Clint Barton:

High Rooftops (Stark!Reader)

Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby:

The Tattooed Lady

‘You’re worth more.’

‘She’s Always Been The One’

Different Now

Free Spirit

Finn Shelby:

Practically Invisible

Difference Doesn’t Matter

The Girl From The Circus

Say It Again

‘Stop lying so that I know you’re OK!’

Ada Shelby:

Protesting For Love (Fem!Reader)

Isaiah Jesus:

‘Let me help you!’

Michael Gray:

Snowy Nights

Bonnie Gold:

Thin Ice

Vikings

Cast Imagines:

I Ship It-Alex Hogh Andersen x Reader

Sickly Love-Alex Hogh Andersen x Reader

Drama On Set-Marco Ilso x Reader

Rumours-Alexander Ludwig

Ivar Ragnarsson:

It Wasn’t You / Part 2

A Short Temper

Too Close

Lost In Love

A Typical Love Story

Obsessed

The Benefits of Friendship

A Modern Day Family-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Ivar Ragnarsson

A Perfect Match

Hvitserk Ragnarsson:

You Must Decide-Ubbe Ragnarsson x Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Sigurd Ragnarsson x Reader

Just Confess

I Don’t Need Your Help / Part 2

I Am One Of You / Part 2 / Part 3

An Unforeseen Future / Part 2

Certain Affairs

Ubbe Ragnarsson:

Gentle Viking

You Must Decide-Ubbe Ragnarsson x Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Sigurd Ragnarsson x Reader

You’re Both Mine-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Ubbe Ragnarsson

A Real Farmer

You Look At Me Differently Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Sigurd Ragnarsson:

You Must Decide-Ubbe Ragnarsson x Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Sigurd Ragnarsson x Reader

Bjorn Ironside:

Useless Excuses

You’re Both Mine-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Ubbe Ragnarsson

Trapped-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Halfdan The Black

A Modern Day Family-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Ivar Ragnarsson

A Missing Piece

Ragnar Lothbrok:

Friends Till The End

The Funny Foreigners

A Strange Bond

Halfdan The Black:

Trapped-Bjorn Ironside x Reader x Halfdan The Black

Vague Memories

Just Be Gentle

Dark Things

I Am Not Small

The Quiet One Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Margrethe:

Sticking Together

Game Of Thrones

Jon Snow:

The Other Woman / Part 2

A Continuous Nightmare

A Late Present

Men From The North

Stand Up For Yourself

This Cannot Happen

Cold Hearted

How Long Are You Staying For?

Battling For Love

A Twisted Tale

Robb Stark:

This Is My Idea Of Fun

Stop Stepping On My Feet

Bran Stark:

You Don’t See It

Sansa Stark:

A Long Awaited Rescue

Brienne of Tarth:

Matchmaker-Brienne of Tarth x Tormund Giantsbane x Reader

Tormund Giantsbane:

Matchmaker-Brienne of Tarth x Tormund Giantsbane x Reader

Sons Of Anarchy

Falling Into The Wrong Crowd Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Patched In-SAMCRO x Gay!Reader

Jax Teller:

The Ideal Daughter Part 1/ Part 2

Rebellious

Secrets Revealed

Cutting The Tension

Not Your Typical Woman

Charming’s New Resident

The New Opie / Part 2

Wreck and Repair

Opie Winston:

Spicing Things Up

Happy Lowman:

Love Is Blind, Literally

Chibs Telford:

I’m Too Old For This Shit

Kingsman

Eggsy Unwin:

A Different Background

Time To Meet The In-Laws

Our Friends Across The Pond-Eggsy Unwin x Avengers!Reader

Dangerous Woman

The Secretary

How Romantic (Hart!Reader)

The Hobbit

Thorin Oakenshield:

You Have Changed Part 1/ Part 2

Kili Oakenshield:

Coming Home

The 100

Bellamy Blake:

Contact

The Real Me

Not The Same

Forming An Alliance Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Clarke Griffin:

The Final List

Merlin

Arthur Pendragon:

A Betraying Secret

Another Protector

The New Rule

In Line For The Throne / Part 2

A Need For Comfort

Merlin:

Second Impressions

A Touch of Magic

A Magic Bond

Sir Leon:

The Silent Maiden

Gwaine:

Expected

Good Omens

Demons and Dragons-Crowley x Reader x Aziraphale

American Horror Story

It All Comes Down To This-Kit Walker x Reader

The Riot Club

Alistair Ryle:

Money Fixes Everything / Part 2

Dimitri Mitropoulos:

‘I like you either way’

Car Share

Harry Villiers:

Reversed Roles

#masterlist #ijustwant2write #marvel imagine #peaky blinders imagine #vikings imagine #game of thrones imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #kingsman imagine #the hobbit imagine #the 100 imagine #merlin imagine #good omens imagine #american horror story imagine #the riot club imagine

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wish-i-was-fictional-imagines · 5 years

Text

Run Away With Me

Requests Are Open

Eggsy x Reader

Summery: College!AU in which you are drowning in school work, so Eggsy asks you to take a holiday with him to give yourself a break.

The rain seemed to be coming at you horizontally as you struggled against the wind, your balance being thrown off by the fact that you couldn't use your arms since they were filled with books and art supplies. Advanced data analysis with Professor Ginger had just let out, relieving at least a bit of your stress since it was your last class of the day. Although, you still had a lot weighing on your mind. Ever since you had come back to university, you had been almost constantly stressed out.

Why had no one told you that coming back to university was worse than being a Freshman? When you had decided to take time off it was for no other reason than you just needed a break. Your first two years had been stressful to say the least. Changing roommates every semester because they always caused you so much anxiety, dealing with a boy who broke your heart, drowning in homework for a major you weren't even sure you liked anymore. You didn't regret coming back to school, it was definitely going better than before in the housing situation now that you had a place with your best friend, Roxy. But the work load was definitely beginning to take a toll. And the weather wasn't helping either. For living in London, you weren't all that fond of the dreary weather. Especially when the rain wasn't even coming down in a natural direction. With a grumble under your breath, you shouldered your way into the canteen building, slipping into the door before it could close behind the gaggle of preppy girls who hadn't even considered holding it open for you.

Once in the building, you were met with the din of dozens of students chatting while queued up to get food and a warmth that would usually be welcomed, but was almost too big of a leap from the freezing cold outside to be considered comfortable. Instead of heading strait for the canteen like the rest of the mass of students, you turned toward a staircase tucked behind a colonnade and followed it up. The stairway was nearly deserted with only one other girl passing you on her way down. You nodded to her politely and took the last couple of steps to the end of the stairs and through the doorway before it could close. The passage opened up into a cozy little lounge area that people either didn't know about or didn't care about. There were about ten tables and booths dotted around the loft-like area, one of which was set apart from the others, pushed even further out of view in nook next to one of the floor to ceiling windows. That was the table you set your sights on.

As soon as you got close enough to the booth, your heart fluttered in your chest. Eggsy was sitting by the window, his eyes trained onto the laptop that was covered in stickers in front of him and brows drawn together in concentrations as he typed away. You couldn't help but stop in your tracks to stand there, just far enough away from him that he hadn't quite noticed you yet, and watch him work on what you knew was his final paper for Professor Hart. His glasses had slipped down his nose a bit from having his head tilted down to the computer, making him subconsciously scrunch up his nose every now and then to try to push them back up.

Seeing him usually lifted your spirits, but with everything you had going on right now you still felt drained. You finally walked the last few feet to the table and dumped all the books you had been lugging around onto it before slipping in next to Eggsy, who upon seeing you, had stopped his typing to give you all his attention.

"Hey, love," he greeted while leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Hey," you gave a weak smile, not doing a very convincing job of hiding your exhaustion.

Eggsy of course noticed your demeanor. How your smile didn't quite make it to your eyes and the downward slant of your shoulders that were finally free of your heavy backpack. He propped his arm up on the back of the booth behind you and turned so that his body was facing you.

"Everything alright?" He asked, concern written clearly across his face.

"Yeah," you breathed out, turning your face away from Eggsy and bringing your gaze to the table. Eggsy knew better than to believe you, but he also knew better than to push. Instead of asking again, he waited, his concerned gaze still set on your profile.

"I just..." You began after a beat of silence, "I just don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know if I can even do this at all. University is killing my spirits, Eggsy."

There it was, out in the open after months of doubting yourself. It wasn't a secret that you were struggling, but admitting defeat out loud was far different than letting people believe you were pushing through.

Eggsy leaned in closer to you, so close that you could feel his breath fanning out over your ear. Gently, he brought his hand up to your cheek and turned your face toward him. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked up at him. From this close, he could see how truly tired you were, the dullness in your eyes speaking volumes, even if you wouldn't. It broke his heart a little bit.

"(Y/N), you are the most brilliant woman I have ever met." He began, his voice earnest as he tried to get you to see you how he saw you, "And the strongest. You can do absolutely anything you want to do. If that means dropping out for good, then I'm with you. If that means staying at school and finishing, then I'll do everything I can to help you through it. Either way, I'm with you, babe."

Tears pricked your eyes as you leaned into his hand, savoring the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I just need a break from it all," your voice was practically a wimper.

"(Y/N), I've actually got something to ask you." He ventured, causing you to pull back a bit, letting his hand fall, so that you could take in his expression. Most of the concern had left his face, it's place taken up by a soft gaze and a dreamy smile.

"Alright?" Your voice was tentative.

Eggsy took a deep breath and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to get the words out.

"Go on holiday with me."

You stared at him, his words playing over again in your mind. Your boyfriend had just asked you to go on holiday with him and the only thing you could do was stare at him, open mouthed. The only thing that got you to come back to reality was Eggsy taking your hand in his.

"I know uni's been tough, so let's run away from it. There's only a couple weeks left until Christmas Break and I want to take you somewhere where you can forget about all of it. Just the two of us."

"Where would we go?" You managed to get out through your surprise.

Eggsy smiled and let go of your hand so that he could turn his laptop toward you to show you the email from the airline showing the confirmation for tickets from London to Oahu, Hawaii.

At the sight of the email, your face finally broke into a smile, the reality of what he was asking you finally sinking in. You looked back at Eggsy, chewing on your bottom lip to keep from smiling like an idiot.

"I can't believe it," you finally couldn't contain your excitement and threw your arms around Eggsy, savoring the feeling of his bomber jacket under your fingers. Eggsy wrapped his arms around you, holding you to his chest as tightly as he could.

"Well believe it, sweetheart. Cause this time in two weeks, we'll be laying out in the sand instead of freezing our asses of here." He said, pulling back a bit, allowing you to see how content he looked.

With the first genuine smile you had sported in weeks, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to Eggsy's in a kiss that felt like home.

"How did I get so lucky?" You muttered against Eggsy's lips when you had broken apart.

"I'm the lucky one." Eggsy chuckled, giving you one last kiss before pulling back. "This is definitely going to be my favorite Christmas."

#eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy x reader #galahad x reader #kingsman #kingsman secret service #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle

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supersleepygoat · 6 years

Text

Glass Houses: Part Two

Pairing: Sam x Sister!Reader, MOC!Dean x Sister!Reader, Styne Family

Summary: After you left the bunker, you take on a few case. You get some experience under you belt but let overconfidence lead you into a dangerous situation that would be better left for your brothers. Set in Dark Dynasty (10.21).

Word Count: 6,042

Warning: Angst. Violence. Mention of Character Death. TW: Mentions of Rape. Nonconsensual Blood Play. Nonconsensual Knife Play. (No Explicit Smut)

Part One

Masterlist

You had just gotten off the phone with your boyfriend, Nathan. You had left the bunker and pulled off to the side of the road. You needed to talk to him. Talking to him always puts you at ease. But as soon as you hang up the phone, that ease morphs into dread.

You curse yourself for being unable to let him go. It is selfish and you know it. He will always be in danger as long as he is in your life. But you love him. In a different world, you know without a doubt he would be your end game. He would be the one to save you. He would give you the apple pie life you know you should want. But that’s not who you are. You will never be the girl who could walk away from her family to start a new one.

No matter how your brothers make you feel about yourself, Nate always grounds you. He tells you how special and capable he thinks you are. And for a moment, you believe him. So, in a perfect world, he would be who you are driving to right now. But, instead you are headed out of town and seeking out danger. You are a Winchester. There is no apple pie life waiting for you. Everyone knows how the game really ends for a Winchester.

As much as it killed you, you had to lie to Nate. You had to tell him your brothers took you out of town and you’d be gone for a while. You know you have to end it with him when you get back. But you don’t have the strength to burn that bridge right now. That bridge holds a view of hope, so you’re not ready to watch it burn quite yet.

Besides, Nate deserves for you to explain yourself in person. But if you show up now with this bruise on your cheek, he’ll only go on a testosterone induced rampage. He has always hated the fact your brothers push you aside. He hates that they treat you like a second-class Winchester. So, if you tell him things have escalated to a physical level, he’ll only see red. He won’t listen to a word you say. And, you need him to hear you. He needs to understand that he will always be the best thing that ever happened to you.

But, your destiny is to pursue the family business. Whether your brothers like it or not, for you there is no getting out of this life. You want to fight alongside your brothers. It’s what you’ve always wanted. So, it’s not safe for Nate to be attached to you or this life. You need to let him go before he ends up like Jessica or Lisa. He deserves better than the danger that comes with being with you. He deserves better than you.

You started small. You left your brothers only three weeks ago but you already have two solo cases under your belt.

The first was a simple salt and burn. Unfortunately, the ghost’s human body had been cremated. But, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the jilted lover’s spirit was tied to her wedding ring. Her unfaithful husband still wore it on a chain around his neck. Little did he know, he was carrying around a beacon for pain. You burnt the tarnish silver symbol and moved on.

The second case was a step up. Your first demon. You didn’t have the demon knife or an angel blade so you had to rely on an good old-fashioned exorcism to get rid of the thing. It worked out because you were able to save the meat suit, or Shannon as she preferred to be called. She was shaken up but grateful you were able to spare her.

After you prove your point and you return home to your brothers, you may have a talk with them. You will remind them that they tend to forget that the meat suits are really people. They use the demon knife and angel blade as if the quick solution is the only solution. But there is another way. Maybe they could learn something from their useless baby sister after all.

You are running on a string of highs. Are you getting a bit cocky? Perhaps, but you feel as though you are finally doing something useful with your life. You are no longer waiting at home for your brothers to get back from a hunt. You are no longer living vicariously through their stories of heroism. You are the one who is living now. You are the one making a difference.

You know what you’re doing is dangerous. If you had a clear mind, you would realize your luck is bound to wear out eventually. But you are misguided by the illusion that Winchesters always come out on top. You are starting to feel untouchable. If your brothers were here, they would be able to teach you that arrogance is a leading cause of death among hunters. But, they aren’t here. That is lesson you will have to learn for yourself.

One more. You decided one more hunt will do the trick. If you can close three cases all on your own, your brothers will have no choice. They will have to acknowledge that you are a capable hunter. You have enjoyed being on your own but it’s gotten a little lonely.

The whole reason you wanted to start hunting was so you could spend more time with your brothers. You want them to include you in their lives. You don’t want to hunt just for the sake of hunting. This little trial period of solo hunts is merely a means to an end. The end goal will always be to be accepted by your brothers. You are doing this so you can fight with them, not against them.

You may want their love and approval, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still pissed at them, especially Dean. But like any other set of siblings, your best revenge will be to make them feel like shit for ever doubting you. You can’t wait to stroll back into the bunker and throw Baby’s keys back at Dean. He’ll see you were responsible enough to take good care of his favourite girl. There’s not a scratch on her. Then, you’ll tell them every gory detail of your hunts. They’ll realize just how much of a badass you are.

They’ll be mad, Dean may even kick your ass again. But they’ll be proud of you, they have to be. But if they are still unwilling to acknowledge you, then at the very least you have proven to yourself that you are a legitimate hunter. You will just continue going at it alone until they let you in. You won’t give up.

For your last case, you found something a little odd. It’s not a classic monster like a ghost or a vampire. But rather, it is something that is just too gross to not be your kind of case. You going to prove that you can handle even the weird cases.

So, you’re headed to Omaha, Nebraska. A woman was reported to have her throat slit and her eyes gouged out. Not to mention, the guy who done it jumped out of a third story window and ran away without so much as a limp. Definitely your kind of weird.

Your best guess is that he may be another Doc Benton. Sam and Dean told you all about that creep. Plus, you read about someone like him in your dad’s journal. These types of monsters were once human. But they harvest the organs of young and healthy people to remain immortal. You assume that’s why he only took the victim’s eyes. Luckily, John’s journal told you that if you burn them alive, they will stay dead.

You were in a nearby town when you caught the case. It didn’t take long to drive to the scene. By the time you and Baby pulled up to the office building, the victim’s body was still inside. The janitor who found the girl and saw the killer’s great escape wasn’t very helpful. He was too shaken up to tell you anything more than what you heard over the police radio.

The building manager shows you security footage of the man’s three-story jump. Either than the fact he walked away without even a scratch, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the man. He looked human. But you know looks can be deceiving in this line of work. At least now you know his face. You know who you are looking for.

The manager gives you all the information he has on his murderous renter. You know it is all probably fake names and bogus addresses, but you have to start somewhere.

“More FBI?” The building’s landlord asks Sam and Dean as they each flash their badge.

“What do you mean more?” Dean asks with slight irritation. He hates when the real feds intrude on their cases. They always get territorial over their jurisdiction. Dean doesn’t have the patience right now to get into a pissing contest. He has a job to do and prefers to do it without interference.

“Yeah, an Agent Hart was here yesterday. That girl looked like she was barely out of diapers. You guys are recruiting them young now, aren’t ya?” The man asks.

Sam and Dean share a knowing look. Sam’s eyes widen as Dean’s narrows. You always used to babble about what fake FBI names you would use. Agent Hart was always at the top of your list. The brothers lost count of how many times you made them watch Miss Congeniality. So, they would know that name anywhere.

“Is this her?” Dean asks while showing the man a picture of you on his phone. The picture is of you sitting on Dean’s lap while you force him to smile for the camera.

“Yep. That’s her,” The land lord confirms. “You two close? Luck man,” he gives Dean a coy smile.

Dean does not return that slimy smirk. Instead, he clenches his jaw and holds himself back from punching the man. He hates the idea of anyone sexualizing his baby sister. You’re better than that.

Sam reads Dean’s reaction and steps between the two men. “Did she leave a phone number for you to reach her?” Sam asks with hope in his voice.

“Uh, yeah” the man says while he searches his wallet for your card. When he goes to hand it to Sam, Dean reaches over and snatches it away. Dean is about to leave the room when the man interrupts him. “Don’t you want to see what I showed her?” He asks reminding the agents why they were there in the first place.

The brothers crowd around the man’s tablet. He plays the security footage of the perp’s miraculous escape.

“Wait, freeze there. Zoom in,” Sam directs. The footage clearly shows the man is sporting a distinctive tattoo on his right forearm.

“Same ink as the Styne’s,” Dean says what both brothers are thinking.

In a panic, Sam pulls Dean away from the other man’s earshot. “Dean, if this is the Stynes, and Y/N is working this case, then she doesn’t know what she’s walking into. She left the bunker before Charlie called us about the Book of the Damned! She doesn’t know anything about what the Stynes are capable of or how hard they are to kill!” Sam informs his brother.

Dean’s teeth grind together. Before Sam can blink, Dean’s fist collides with the nearest piece of drywall. He shakes his now bloodied knuckles. “Son of a bitch!”

Sam looks back at the horrified landlord. “You can send the bill for repairs to head office,” Sam says with a sheepish smile. He hurries his brother out of the room before Dean snaps again.

Dean pushes his brother’s guiding hand off of him. “We need to find her, Sammy! Now!” Dean barks.

Over the past few weeks, Dean’s sole focus has been on finding you. However, Sam has split his attention between finding you and trying to find a way to remove Dean’s mark. But now, his missions have collided. Now more than ever, both brothers are feeling the urgency. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.

Dean and Sam get into the crappy car they have been forced to use since your departure. Dean slams the door shut behind him. “How could she be so stupid? I raised her better than this. She knows better than to…” Dean is too infuriated to finish his train of thought. You’re going to get yourself killed trying to prove a point to your brothers. The fear inside of Dean is morphing into uncontrollable anger. “I am going to kill all those Frankenstein sons of bitches if they so much as lay a finger one her!” Dean grips the wheel and peels out of the parking lot.

“Agent Hart,” you greet into the receiver of your phone. You love pretending to be professional.

“Y/N?” You hear Sam’s soft voice and your stomach drops.

“S-Sam?”

You hear shuffling on the other end of the phone. The next voice you hear makes you heart stop. You thought you were over it. You told yourself you that what Dean said and did to you was driven by the mark. That wasn’t your brother. You thought you were over it. But even hearing his hardened voice makes fearful tears pool in your eyes. Your bruises have long since healed but all the sudden you can feel your cheek sting again right where he hit you.

“Where the fuck are you?” Dean growls at you. Your eyes widen. You knew he would be mad that your left. You knew he would be pissed about you taking Baby. But, you thought his rage would have eased in the three weeks he has had to cool down. “You know what, it doesn’t matter,” Dean stops you before you can respond. “Get your ass back to the bunker, now! You have no idea what you’re dealing with, kid!”

Your anger rises to match Dean’s. He still refuses to acknowledge you. He still insists on treating you like a child. Apparently, you still have something to prove. You’ll take care of this weirdo all on your own. Then, you’ll rub it in his condescending face.

“I know exactly what I’m dealing with! A freak who has been harvesting people’s organs so he can live longer. I even know his name, Eldon Styne. Plus, I know where to find him,” you inform your brothers. You’re proud of all the information you have been able to dig up in such a short time. This guy left more a paper trail than you were expecting. He’s kind of sloppy.

“No, Y/N! Don’t you dare! It’s more than that! That ‘freak’ and his family aren’t something you can take on alone! These aren’t amateurs you’re dealing with, Y/N. So, they can’t be taken down by an amateur!”

In Dean’s misguided mind, he thinks he actually doing a good job in convincing you to back down. But, all he is doing is riling you up. Before, you had something to prove. Now, you feel like closing this case out of spite.

“I can do this! I may be new at this but I’m not an idiot. I am careful and I am capable. Back off, Dean!” You bite at your brother before hanging up on him. As if beating you down wasn’t enough. He always has to pour salt into your wounds by making you feel inferior.

You turn your phone off and pull out the battery. You have a long drive a head of you. You don’t need your phone ringing incessantly. Nor do you need your brothers tracking you down through GPS. You pull the map out of Baby’s glove compartment and find your route to Shreveport, Louisiana.

“Here’s how you redeem yourself. First, clean up your mess in Omaha. Next, you will track down these Winchesters who murdered your brother Jacob and who may now have in their possession the Book of the Damned” Monroe Styne instructs his son.

“It will be done,” Eldon responds with fearful obedience. He knows his father is not one to make idle threats. If he fails to deliver again, he will lose his position as heir and will become the family lab rat.

Eldon and his goons leave his father office on a mission.

Just then, you pull up to the cute yellow house. The mouldings scream southern charm. But the two armed men guarding the front door, tells you that you are exactly where you need to be. You did a little research on the Styne family. Their history isn’t as developed as you first assumed it would be. They seemed to have popped up in the 1800s out of nowhere and have been causing trouble ever since. If you had access to the bunkers library, you may have been able to learn more. But for now, all you need to know is that they kill people to harvest their body parts. Which means they fall under your jurisdiction.

You sneak around to the back porch and slip into the house through the kitchen. You are armed to the teeth. But so far no one has gotten in your way.

The further you slip into the house, the faster your heart starts to race. You see a group of men discussing something in the hall in front of you. To stay hidden, you slip into what you think is an empty room.

You close the door behind you. You jump out of your skin when you hear a throat clear from across the room. You raise your gun and point it in the direction of the sound.

The man looking down your barrel doesn’t seem phased in the least.

“And who might you be?” Monroe asks you with a curious smile. His southern drawl would be charming if he didn’t look like evil incarnate.

“I’m the girl who’s going to kill you,” you inform him. You try to match his threatening persona but can’t help but feel like you’re failing miserably.

Monroe laughs a genuine laugh. He gets out of his seat. “Drink?” He raises a pitcher of sweet tea in your direction.

You narrow your eyes at him in confusion. You’re not in the mood for small talk. So, you pull your trigger you land a shot straight in his heart. He doesn’t fall. He barely even flinches.

The gun shot didn’t kill him. But, it did alert the house to your presence. Within minutes, the door is kicked open and all the men from the hall barge into the room. Every shot you land hits their mark dead on but these men do not fall. It is as if the bullets barley leaves a sting.

It doesn’t take long for you to be surrounded. Your gun is kicked out of your hand and you are stripped of all your weapons, except they never find the knife in your boot. You are pushed onto your knees as your own gun is pointed at your head. You recognize the man holding you down as the man from the video, Eldon.

“Shall we try this one more time, girly? Who are you?” the grey-haired man asks you again.

You debate your options. Sassing him will only get you killed faster. So, you decide to try a little honesty. “Y/N Winchester. And I’m guessing you’re the patriarch of this little band of killers. You must be so proud,” you feign a smile up at the man. You told yourself you weren’t going to sass the man with a gun to your head but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have my moments. But tell me darling’, Winchester? Any relation to Sam and Dean?” the older man asks you.

You shift on your knees. “Y-You know my brothers?” You hate how shaky your voice comes out. But you’re starting to realize Dean may have been right. He may have warned you about this family for reason. You thought he was just being an asshole who thought you couldn’t handle any situation. But you’re starting to understand he was referring to this specific situation as being above your paygrade.

“They killed my eldest boy,” all charm is gone from Monroe’s voice. He steps forward so he is towering over your kneeling and helpless form. His lips fall into a hard line. He contemplates what to do with you. You can see his wheels turning against your favour. He is no doubt imagining the most painful way to kill you or which parts of you to harvest. That thought makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Daddy, the girl may be useful.” Eldon interrupts his father when he sees the murderous glint in his eyes. “If she really is their sister, I think they’d be willing to make a trade. We give them her and they give us the book. Those Winchesters seem just stupid enough to think it would be a fair trade.” Eldon offers a solution.

Monroe considers his options for a moment. “No,” he states with finality. “We do not barter with animals. That is beneath us. We will get the book back on our own terms. They stole from us and we shall not negotiate.”

“Then what are we to do with this one?” Eldon nudges you with his knee and you stumble off balance.

“She is a Winchester. You know as well as I do the power of Winchester blood. The Winchester lineage is a lot like ours in many ways, special.”

“So, what do you want to do, bleed her out?” Eldon asks slightly confused.

Now you think is a good time to clarify a few things. “I am only their half-sister! I don’t have any of that special sauce you are talking about. I’m just a-” a firm back handed slap across your cheek cuts you off.

“Don’t be stupid, boy. Think bigger. She may only be a half breed Winchester but she is still a Winchester. And Winchester blood will mix well with our own. It will add a certain potency to our linage. Strengthen the family tree so to speak. I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. Cousin Eli seems to think you are incapable of handling your assignment on your own,” Monroe addresses his son. “prove him wrong. Kill that little redheaded who stole my book and I’ll give you the girl as a reward. She can be yours.”

“To do what with, exactly?” There is a glint of hope in Eldon voice that makes you shudder. But Eldon needs to clarify his father’s meaning before he lets his hopes run wild.

“You expect me to spell it out for you! You are my son and heir! That means you too will need an heir one day. Breed your new bitch. I don’t care how it happens. Marry her or simply lock her up in the basement and breed her when she’s at peak fertility. Like I said, I don’t care. But, you will mix our bloodlines.”

“Yes, Daddy!” Eldon beams with excitement. He reaches down to pick your stupefied body off the ground but Monroe slaps the back of his head to stop him.

“What the hell you doing, son?” Monroe shouts. “I said she is you reward for you fulfilling your duties! You have already disappointed me today. You have not earned your reward yet. You don’t get her until the job is done. And, if you fail… she will go to the man who can follow orders.” Monroe’s eye travels from his son over to his nephew Eli. A little familial completion is guaranteed to get the job done, especially since the incentive to succeed is so sweet. “You boys better get going. But leave her with me.” Monroe turns his attention to you. “We have some things to discuss. She will be well prepped in her expectations for your return.”

You are pulled off the ground. The feeling of someone touching you pulls you out of your shocked state. You fight against their manhandling with all the strength you have. But they drag you along like your violent efforts mean nothing. You are knocked around like a ragdoll. You can’t help but feel the same way you did at the bunker. Dean kept knocking you down so easily. You should have listened to him when he told you that you weren’t ready, you weren’t strong enough. Now, your overconfidence in your own abilities has condemned you to a nightmare.

Eldon tries to strap you to a wooden chair but your limbs refuse to comply. You scratch at his face and make his job as difficult as possible.

“Control your broodmare! If you cannot handle her now, how can I trust you to handle the breeding process?” Monroe shouts at his son.

Your eyes widen in fear but a full fisted punch to your temple knocks the fear out of you. Your mind goes hazy and your muscles go limp just long enough for Eldon to tie you down. You are brought back to reality when he leans in and kisses your temple. He puts his lips right over where his fist just landed. “I promise not to mark up your face anymore after this. It was just this once. But don’t think that the rest of you isn’t fair game,” he smiles against your skin. You pull on your restraints as tears pool in our eyes.

“Enough! Get to work. She’ll be waiting here for your successful return. Do not come back without that redhead’s blood on your sword,” Monroe threatens his son one last time.

Eldon nods and leaves the room without another word.

The throbbing in your head is dulled by the disgust bubbling within you. “If you know my brothers, then you know they will kill you. They’ll find out I’m here one way or another. Then, you are all dead!” You spit your venom at the patriarch. You hate the idea that you are relying on your brothers to save you. You want to save yourself. But right now, that isn’t an option. You only hope you didn’t cover your tracks as well as you thought you did and Sam and Dean find you before it’s too late.

“Time for a history lesson, girly.” Monroe says ignoring your every threat. “By the time school is out of session, you will understand the full power of my family… excuse my rudeness, our family.” He offers you a wicked smile. “We have been funding destruction for centuries. We cannot be taken down by the likes of your brothers. So, you may as well settle in. You are one of us now, sweetheart.”

“I will never be a part of your twisted family! You can take your egomaniacal self-indulgence and shove it up your-” a firm hand closes over your throat and blocks your words from coming out.

“This is a goddamn privilege! Baring Styne children is a gift. You will be grateful or will not like what happens next!” The pure rage in his eyes is more threatening than his words.

The forceful hold over your throat is causing your vison to blacken. Monroe loosens his grip and stands up straight. He walks back over to his desk and takes a seat. All he does is stare at you while he waits for you to choke the air back into your lungs.

“You finished? We have a lot of ground to cover.” Monroe says as he leans forward in his chair and interlocks his fingers.

After your family history lesson, you were left to sit alone in Monroe’s office. He didn’t seem to have an issue leaving you alone. He says he trusts his new daughter to behave then left. It feels like you have been sitting here for days on end. Although the agonizing cuckoo clock on the wall tells you it has only been a few of hours. You struggle against your restraints to reach the knife still in your boot but the ropes are too tight. You have to wait until someone comes to untie you.

The hours tick by but no one comes for you. No one comes to feed you or let you go to the bathroom. Exhaustion takes you over and you drift to sleep. You don’t know how long you were out for but you are awoken to the study door bursting open. You jolt awake and try to ready yourself for a fight, but then you remember you are strapped to a chair.

To your surprise, it isn’t Monroe but rather Eldon who comes through the door. He drops his bloodied knife onto his father’s desk. He turns to you with a triumphant smile. “I held up my end of the bargain. Father says I can play for a while before I go find your brothers. He says it is important to reward small victories. It prompts motivation for further success.”

He takes a step toward you. “Touch me and I will rip your lungs out!” you threaten the man using Dean’s best line.

Eldon clenches his jaw before crossing the room and punching you in the stomach. If you weren’t restrained you would have doubled over in pain. He is a man of his word, you have to give him that. He didn’t touch your face.

“I thought Father taught you your place here, bitch? You don’t get a say in what happens to you. Your body is mine and your womb belong to our family now. Get in line or I’ll have to put you there,” Eldon threatens you. “I earned you. I am entitled to my reward,” he says as if you are bartering over gold stickers and not your body.

“You didn’t earn shit! Your father is not in charge of when I spread my legs! You can go fuck yourself but leave me out of it!” You spit at the man in front of you.

“You got a mouth on you, girl. No wonder your brothers sent you into the lion’s den all on your own. They were probably itching to get rid of you and that smart lip. I am probably doing them a service taking you off their hands and putting that tongue to better use.”

Before you can correct him, Eldon lunges forward and claims your mouth in bruising kiss. You struggle against your restraints and try to jerk your head away. But a firm hand grasps your hair and holds you in place. You bite his intruding tongue but that earns you another punch to the stomach.

Eldon pushes away from you and walks back over to his father’s desk. He picks up his bloodied and discarded knife before coming back over to you.

“Do you know whose blood this is?” He asks you as he crouches down to your eye level.

You shake your head because your swollen lips are too afraid to part.

“I believe you know her. Apparently, she is a family friend of you Winchesters.” Eldon licks some of the blood off his knife and your cringe with disgust. “Charlene… Caroline…” Eldon struggles to remember her name.

“C-Charlie?” you squeak with utter dread.

Eldon’s wicked smile of affirmation is his only response. You heart drops into your stomach as violent tears stream down your cheeks. You had no idea Charlie was the redhead they were talking about earlier. Why didn’t you make that connection? Why didn’t you kill them when you had the chance? Now, Charlie is dead because you couldn’t handle them on your own. She is dead because of you.

Your head is hung low but Eldon hooks his finger under your chin. Your watering eyes meet his empty ones. He licks his blade again. Then, he kisses you again. You can taste Charlie’s blood on his tongue and you sob into his mouth.

He cuts you free of your restraints and throws you over his shoulder. You kick against him and let out a string of curses as he carries up the stairs to his bedroom. He locks the door behind him then throws you onto his bed.

“Strip,” to him it is such a simple demand.

You start by taking off your boot. The second it is off your foot you reach inside the lining and pull out your knife. You swipe it across his face and leave a nasty gash. He doesn’t even wince.

There is no pain in his eyes, only rage. He grasps your wrists and bends it back until the bone snaps and you let go of your little knife. You whimper in pain but he pays you no mind. He picks up your knife and pushes you onto your back. He hovers in over you and holds the knife to your throat.

“Kiss it better,” he orders you. When you refuse to move he presses the knife into your skin until it draws blood. You debate whether you should let him kill you, it would be better than being his bitch. But, you know he won’t let you off that easy.

You lean forward and kiss his cheek, right above the bloody cut you left there. That simple act causes bile to rise in your throat.

“I’m sure you can do better than that. Let me show you how it’s done,” Eldon says as he takes the knife and cuts along your collarbone. A line of blood appears and you bite back your cries of pain. He lowers his mouth onto you wound. He sucks and kisses the cut until there is no more blood dripping down your chest. “Just like that,” he says when he’s finished. “Your turn!” he leans his cheek closer to you.

You refuse to reciprocate.

He clenches his jaw. “Fine then. I guess I’ll just have to keep going until you get the memo.” He rips open your shirt and starts cutting into the skin along your chest and stomach. You writhe in pain as it is a never-ending pattern of cutting and sucking. He holds you down with his inhuman strength and forces you to endure his confusing torture. The knife hurts but his lips heal.

His trail ends at the hem of your jeans. But soon he takes them off you and cuts your panties off you too. You have been naked in front of a man before but you have never felt so exposed. He keeps your legs spread as he places the cold blade against your core.

“Please don’t,” you beg him through the tears. You are starting to realize just how bad he could make this.

“Shh, baby girl.” He crawls back up your body. “I would never cut you there… unless you asked me nicely. No, I plan on ruining your pretty little pussy in a different way.” He smiles at you and you hear him unbuckle his slacks.

You kick, punch, scream, and beg. But you are no match for him. You have a broken wrist and mere human strength. He will have his way, whether you like it or not.

He takes you. You try to close your eyes and pretend it is Nate splitting you open but Eldon forces you keep your eyes open. He wants you to watch as he lays his claim. He owns you now and each brutal thrust seals the deal. You push Nate out of your mind.

Soon the Styne’s seed will paint your walls. You stopped fighting him. You figure this is your punishment for being unable to prevent Charlie’s death. You deserve all the pain, violation, and humiliation.

At some point during the night, you stopped wishing your brothers would find you. You don’t want them to see how quickly you broke, how quickly you crumbled under Eldon’s forceful hand. You don’t want them to see how weak you are.

You don’t want them to say I told you so.

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