#the Courier x y/n
Text
Happily Evil After - Pt 2 (The Courier/Evil Sivle)
Masterlist
Part 1
Warning: swearing, smut
Y/N- your name
Y/U/N - your undercover name
Y/N/N - your nickname
Summary: John and the Reader find themselves becoming even more closer as they set out to rescue Stanton.
Texas
Pausing from what you were doing, you let out a sigh at a pacing John, “would you please stop doing that…”
“I can’t help it…” John exhales heavily, “what if this plan backfires?” Raking his hands through his hair, John then looks to the titanium wedding band on his left hand, “what if the FBI catches onto us or those that are after the drives?”
“Don’t worry too much about it…” you try to assure him, “the best way to hide, is in plain sight. They’re looking for us as individuals, not a ‘married couple’ on their honeymoon.”
“I’m sure after not hearing from you the FBI would be wondering what happen to their undercover agent by now...” John remarks.
“Oh, I’m quite sure they think that I’m dead” you respond nonchalantly.
John arches a brow at you in question. “I may or may not have set it up to look like I was killed by the same person that killed Maxwell” you flash him a toothy grin in explanation.
John scowls at you in response, “so, I’m wanted for your murder as well now?”
“Nope…” you snicker at his question. John stares at you in confusion, you continue on to explain to him. “Let’s just say… that there was a tipoff that a short, blonde haired man was seen fleeing the scene of Maxwell’s murder.”
“Seems like you have everything well planned out” John stares at you with admiration.
“Girl’s gotta be prepared…” you shrug with a broad smirk on your face.
New York
“Stop being so tense and relax…” you softly hiss out at John while waiting your turn to check-in at the hotel front desk.
“Can’t help it” John mumbles in response, scanning the hotel foyer. “I can’t help feeling as if we’re going to be ambushed at anytime” he remarks, looking down at you as you clung to his side.
Reaching up on the tip of your toes, you bring John’s face down towards yours with a fake smile and softly whisper, “we’re supposed to be on our honeymoon, ‘Darling’… so try and look the part.” You then tip upwards, capturing his lips in a kiss.
John lets out a soft growl against your lips, pulling you flushed up against his body and causing you to gasp out in surprise; allowing him to deepened the kiss.
You were both so lost in the heat of the moment that for a second you forgot where you were until the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat brought you back to reality. “Oops… sorry about that” you turned to the front desk personnel with a giggle, “just can’t get enough of him… we’re on our honeymoon… Mr and Mrs Carson” you explain with a broad smile as you cuddled into John’s side.
“No problem, Ma’am” the gentleman smiles at you in response, “here is your room key… I hope your stay with us is enjoyable and congratulations on your marriage.”
“Thank you…” you smile at him.
John turns to walk ahead and you playfully swat at his butt then, loudly remarking, “let’s go get the real honeymoon started, Darling…”
You almost couldn’t contain your laughter then at the look John gave you over his shoulder at what you had just done. With a toothy grin, you hook your arm through his and follow the bellhop up to your room.
“You’re really enjoying all of this aren’t you?” John arches a brow at you after unceremoniously having flung yourself backwards onto the bed.
Sitting up on your elbows you smirk at him, tilting your head towards the bellhop, “why don’t you tip our helper first and once his gone you can join me on the bed, then I’ll be enjoying it much more…”
John’s response; an awkward clearing of his throat as he turns to face the now blushing bellhop. “Thanks that will be all…” John hands him a twenty and sees him to the door.
The Next Day
“Is this really necessary?” John asks, slightly irritated as he watched you searching through clothing racks.
“We’re already gone through all the clothes that I got beforehand and we’ll need more if we want to pull this off” you explain to him, placing more items onto the pile he was already holding.
“Now come on, Honey… let’s go see how these fit” you loudly remark, dragging him along with you towards the fitting rooms.
As you reached the fitting rooms, you’re greeted by the assistant, “good day Sir, Ma’am. Room eight is the only one available at this moment” she informs you, “it’s quite big enough for two, so you can go on right ahead.”
“That’s ok, I’ll wait until another one open’s” John responds.
“Oh, please…” you pretend to groan in annoyance at him, “you make it seem like we’ve never seen each other naked.” Rolling your eyes, you turn to the assistant with an amused smile, “what is it with men being all bashful when in public?”
The assistant giggles in response as you more or less drag John along with you towards the room.
“You need to stop acting suspicious!” you softly hiss at John once the two of you enter the fitting room.
“I’m just not used to doing this, having to put up an act and all…” he sighs out in explanation.
“Well, if you don’t want us getting caught and either going to prison for life or getting killed” you state matter-of-factly, “then I suggest that you start acquiring those skills.”
John grunts in response to your comment. “We’re both adults here” you tell him, “this shouldn’t be as awkward as you’re making it. We’ll just each face away from one another while we’re getting dressed.”
There was a somewhat awkward silence in the air as you both face the opposite direction while silently fitting on the clothing you had picked out. The mirror was on the side wall, so naturally you would find yourself sneaking a peek now and then at it as John got undressed.
One thing you couldn’t deny as you watched the stretch of his back muscles; for an infamous ex-killer, turned ‘delivery boy’, the man was most definitely easy on the eyes, no doubt about it.
When it came to the last item of clothing you had to fit on, you found yourself at a bit of a dilemma; you couldn’t seem to reach the back zipper in order to pull it up. “Um… do you mind helping me with this please” you ask John, pointing toward the zipper as you stepped in front of the mirror.
“Sure” a shirtless John replies, turning around to help you.
You could feel the heat emitting from John’s body as he stepped closer behind you, causing your heartrate to increase as you nervously kept your head down.
“There you go…” you heard John softly speak out.
Slowly lifting your head up to look at your reflection, “Thank y-” your words are suddenly cut short when you see the look on John’s face upon making eye contact in the mirror.
There was a long pause as the two of you silently stared into each other’s eyes in the mirror.
Releasing the breath, you didn’t even realize you had been holding in, slowly you turned around to face him. In the split second you had turned around, you immediately found yourself being pressed up against the mirror behind you by John as he captured your lips in a hard kiss.
You let a soft moan upon feeling John’s hand sliding up your dress as he slowly kissed his way up your jawline then down your neck, your nails digging into his back; causing him to grunt out in approval.
John kisses his way back up to reconnect your lips, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth as you both struggled to silence each other’s sounds of pleasure. Not able to take the torture anymore of having his clothed erection grinding into you, you hastily reach down to loosen his belt buckle.
Once you had John’s belt and zipper open, your hand immediately dove into his boxer briefs to grab hold of his cock, causing him to hiss out in excitement as you pulled it out to slowly stroke it in the palm of your hand. Groaning into your mouth, John pulls your panties to the side allowing you to lead the tip of his length to your entrance. With a hard-forward snap of his hips, John thrusts himself deep into you, causing you to loudly gasp out at the feel of him stretching you.
Lifting up your leg to wrap around his waist and pulling your front flushed up against his own, John begins moving in and out of you at slow pace so as not to alert anyone that might be nearby as to what was happening inside the fitting room. You bite down hard on your lower lip in attempt to stifle your cries of pleasure at the delightful feeling of having John inside of you, while he buried his face into the side of your neck to muffle the sound of his own pleasurable groans.
Suddenly there’s a soft knock on the fitting room door, causing both your bodies to lockup in a panic. Digging your nails deep into John’s arms in order to refrain yourself from groaning out in frustration, you pull John’s head out from your neck to look into his eyes, “please don’t stop-” you softly beg him. “Y-Yes?” you call out to the person outside, suddenly having to then sink your teeth into John’s shoulder when he began slowly thrusting up into you again.
“We found the dress in the colour that you were looking for, Ma’am” the sales assistant calls out to you.
Lifting your head up, you breathlessly respond, “I’ll…” you pause to stifle a cry of pleasure when John’s thrusts becomes harder with each snap of his hips. “Fuck…” you softly wince as you both look downward to watch his cock moving in and out of you. “I-I’ll take it!” you manage to finally get out.
“I’ll leave it at the cash register then” the sales assistant informs you, “will that be all, Ma’am?”
John and you both look up to stare at each other; mouths open, silently panting as he continues fucking you up against the mirror. “I’ll take a few more of those shirts for my-” you pause a second, biting your lower lip, then smile at John, “for my husband…”
John smiles back at you in response, gripping a hold of your hair to pull you in for another kiss. Once the sound of the sales assistant leaving was heard, John’s grip in your hair tightens as he picks up the pace of his thrusts and your whimpers of approval starts becoming louder. No longer caring about being quiet as you both chased your release with each forward snap of his hips.
Miami
“You ready?” you stared at John as he looked himself over in the mirror.
“Ready than I’ll ever be…” he replied letting out a nervous breath.
You step closer to lightly massage his shoulder, “relax… the hardest part will be getting Stan out of there without any incident. Once we’ve accomplished that, then we’re home free.”
“That’s not the part bothering me” John turns around to face you, “getting him to remember me; that’s what I’m worried about.”
You cup his face in your palms to calm him, “it’ll take some time, but if you tell him stories of the good parts of his childhood before the tragedy; I’m sure it would eventually trigger his memories.”
“And what if it triggers his memories of that day” John looks at you in fear.
“Then you’ll have to be strong for him” you tell him, “if he asks questions about it; tell him the truth, his old enough to understand. In that way you both will be able to heal from that tragedy together.”
“You know, for an FBI agent gone bad, you’re quite compassionate still” John smiles at you in response.
You wrinkle your nose at him in response, “well, if you ever tell anyone that about me; I’ll simply deny it.”
John lets out a chuckle, tipping down to capture your lips in a hard kiss. “As much as I’d love for this to go further…” you state as you pulled away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his, “we’ve got much more important things to see to.”
John faintly smiles at you before kissing you one last time. God… I’m going to miss this… You had start to get accustom to being with him like this, after your first time in the fitting room the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. The thought that after this you would never see each other again saddened you; you were going to miss him once you went your separate ways.
“You set?” you and John stare at each other in the front rear view mirror.
John gives you a silent head nod, getting out from behind the wheel to help assist you out from the back seat then.
Getting out and placing your hand over John’s holding onto the car door, you give a tight squeeze in reassures that all would end up well.
“Who’s the shadow?” Eddie, one of Stan’s regular bodyguards asks you as you entered the house.
“This is Joe” you answer him, “I’m not taking any chances after what happened to Maxwell.
Eddie nods his head at John in greeting. “Kid’s in his room, playing that guitar of his as usual.”
“Did you tell him about Maxwell?” you inquire.
Eddie shakes his head in response, “thought I’d leave that to you. The two of you are close, it’ll be better if the news came from you.”
“Thanks Eddie” you respond, “could you do me a favour and show Joe to the kitchen, have Maria prepare some snacks for us.”
“Sure, no problem. Follow me” he instructs John with a nod of his head. John stares at you, clearly agitated by the entire situation and you widen your eyes at him in a silent plea to go along with it.
Exhaling deeply, John finally gives in and heads to the kitchen after Eddie.
“Tell me… have you had a piece of that?” Eddie asks John out of the blue.
“Excuse me?” John furrows his brow in question.
“Y/U/N, come on… she’s a nice piece of ass ain’t she?” Eddie smirks at him, “tried getting with her, but got my ass turned down pretty quickly.”
“Why would you ask me if I did then?” John scowls at him.
“You two seemed pretty close on some sort of level” Eddie replies, “thought maybe the ‘Ice Queen’ finally melted.”
“It’s strictly professional” John grunts out.
Eddie raises his arms in the air, “didn’t mean to offend ya” he then grins, “but you can’t deny; she’s hot.”
“She’s quite attractive, yes” John nods in agreement.
The housekeeper places a tray of snacks down on the table and just as Eddie was about to reach for it, John quickly snatches it up. “I’ll take it to them, thanks.”
John silently stood in front of the slightly opened door as he listened to Y/N speaking with Stanton.
“You seem to really be improving with that thing kiddo” you smile at Stan after he had finished playing for you.
“Thanks, Y/U/N” he replies with a smile of his own.
Letting out a heavy sigh, you take hold of his hand. “Stan… something happened with your…” you suddenly pause; it didn’t feel right referring to that man as his father, not when he was the reason Stanton’s real parents where ripped out of his life at such a young age. “Something happened to Maxwell.”
Stanton frowns at you in confusion, “what happened to Dad?” Hearing Stanton referring to Maxwell as that, felt like a punch to the gut for John.
“He’s dead, Stan…” you answer.
“Ok…” Stanton nods, seeming oddly calm by what you just said. “So, what’s going to happen to me now?”
“You’re my responsibility now” you inform him, “guess you’re stuck with my cranky butt now” you wink at him with a faint smile and he smirks at you in response.
Having listened in enough of the conversation; John takes in a deep breath, exhales it, knocks on the bedroom door and then proceeds to enter. There's a bit of an awkward silence in the room when he enters, Y/N noticing the look of raw emotional turmoil on John’s face at finally seeing his son again after all this time; decides to make the introduction between them.
“Stan, this is my friend; Joe” you introduce John, “Joe, this is Stan, my ward.”
Stanton silently nods at him in greeting and John finds himself at lost for words as he stares at his son. Realizing that he was about to breakdown if he stayed any longer in the room, John hastily places the tray down on the nearby desk, “um... I’ll be downstairs if you need me” he murmurs, ducking his head and hastily backtracks out of the room.
“You said he’s your friend, right?” Stanton tilts his head at John’s retreating form.
“Uh... yeah” you answer, carefully studying his behaviour to having met John.
“Have I met him before?” Stanton suddenly asks you, “he seems familiar.”
“He does?” you stare at him in surprise.
“I can’t pinpoint it” Stanton tilt his head desep in thought, “but there’s something about him that is extremely familiar.”
“Maybe he just has one of those faces” you try to shrug it off; not wanting Eddie to pick up on anything that seem suspicious. “How about we go for a drive?” you smile at him in suggestion then, “grab your guitar, we can stop at the nearby park and chill out there for a bit.”
“You ready?” you ask Stanton once he’s packed up his guitar. Stanton nods his head in answer, slinging an arm his shoulders; you subtly check to see if he was wearing the necklace, “shall we be off then…” you softly squeeze his shoulder, smiling as the two of you leave the room.
It felt like John had been stuck inside this bathroom for hours to him but he knew it was merely minutes truly; the emotions that had instantly struck him at seeing his son again after these years had gotten too much for him at that moment had forced John to flee the room or risk blowing their plan by grabbing Stanton up into a hug as he yearned to at that instant.
Knowing that he had to exit from his hiding spot before Eddie became suspicious of his whereabouts and the reason behind it; John takes a deep breath, exhaling heavily and grabs hold of the door handle to exit the bathroom.
Just as he entered the kitchen, John hears Y/N speaking to Eddie. “I’m taking Stanton out to get some fresh air” you inform Eddie, “the kid needs something to take his mind off what happened. We’re going to head to the park for a bit.”
“Ok, I’ll come with” Eddie responds getting up from his seat at the counter.
“There's no need…” you quickly respond, stopping him in his tracks. “Joe will be with, so we’ll be well protected” you sweetly smile up at him.
“Ok…” Eddie nods, brows slightly furrowed as he stared at you. “If you need me, call immediately.”
Knowing that he had a crush on you and using it to your advantage, you seductively smirk at him, “you know I would in a heartbeat…”
“I’m surprised we managed to get out of there without a hitch” John remarks once you guys were a few miles away.
“I’ve got a knack for these things, what can I say…” you shrugingly smirk in response.
“Y/U/N… what are you guys talking about it?” Stanton brows furrow as he looks between the two from the backseat.
Turning in your seat, you place a hand on his. “Stan, you trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do…” he replies frowning in confusion at your suspicious behaviour. “What’s going on?”
“Stan honey, we’re not going to the park” you answer him truthfully.
“Where are we going to then?” he asks, even more confused than ever.
“I’m taking you somewhere safe” you respond, “your life is in danger, honey and I’m going to make sure nothing bad happens to you.”
“What do you mean; my life is in danger?” Stanton frowns.
“It’s a long story…” you begin to explain, “but I promise you, I’ll tell you everything once we get to our destination.”
Stanton silently studies your face for a second and then nods, “Ok.”
“Good” you pat his hand, smiling and then turn back in your seat.
Once the three of you had made a clean break, the first thing on your to-do list was to switch cars with the one you had left on standby, consisting of the luggage bags with clothing and new fake ID’s you had procured for the three of you.
Thereafter you guys took the road in order to get as far away from Miami as possible, John and you taking turns to drives so that you wouldn’t have to pullover for the night and run the risk of being tracked down.
Finally, you decided to book into a nice hotel when you guys had put enough distance in from which you came, making sure to book a two-bedroom suite as to keep up with pretence.
“How’s he been doing so far?” John asks as the two of you lay in bed together.
“He’s surprisingly taken it well so far…” you answer, going silent then while you play with his chest hair deep in thought. “I think he might remember you.”
“What?” John looks down at you in surprise.
Sitting up, you nod at him. “He said that you looked familiar. My guess is, if we give him enough information he’ll eventually remember who you are.”
“Maybe…” John breathes out.
“I’ll stick around until he does” you place a hand on his cheek to make him look at you, “he’ll remember John, I’m sure of it.”
“Thank you…” John whispers, staring deep into your eyes.
“For what?” you ask with a smile.
“For helping us get away this far and staying longer” John responds, “you could have walked away the minute you had your hands on the necklace. You haven’t even asked him for it yet.”
“I’m not completely heartless” you shrug with a smirk, “besides, the kid would freak out if I left him with someone he believes to be a stranger.”
“Yeah…” John responds with a frown.
“Hey… you ok?” you stare at him in concern.
“I’m fine” John tries to hide the hurt at your previous response.
“You sure?” you press him further.
“Mhmm…” he faintly smiles down at you, suddenly pressing a kiss to your lips as he moved his body over yours.
“John…” you whisper against his lips, “we can’t… not with Stanton in the next room.”
“We’re good at being sneaky, remember…” John smirks against your lips, hand slipping in between your thighs, “besides, you’re already wet for me…” he groans out in approval at it.
“Who says you’re the reason…” you nip teasingly at his lips.
“Sure as hell ain’t because of, Eddie” John grumbles out.
“Is someone jealous?” you snicker at his remark.
John silently thought about Y/N’s comment and if he was being truly honest with himself; yes, he was… he was jealous at the thought of another man having Y/N the way he had gotten to have her. Truth was; she had started to grow on him with her sometimes annoying yet charming personality, Y/N had managed to light a spark back up in his life in this short span of time. Not only that, she had also given him his son back. He would be lying if he said, he wasn’t going to miss her once they parted ways.
“Hey…” you cup John’s cheek, drawing him back from out of his thoughts. “I was only joking, I didn’t mean it.”
“I know…” John smiles, capturing your lips in a kiss as he settled his body fully over yours once again.
Alabama
“I think tonight might be a good time to finally tell Stanton the truth” you speak up while exiting the closet.
“You went out shopping again?” John snickers from his seat on the bed, referring to the bags of new clothing you had just placed in the closet.
“We’re at the final stage” you remind him, “we need as much luggage as possible in order to finish it.”
“Yeah…” John’s features suddenly sour, “final stage.”
“You ok?” you frown, suddenly having noticed his change in behaviour.
“I’m fine” John flashes you a faint smile. Truth was, he wasn’t. The more days that pass by, the more agitated John had started becoming. He knew that this time would come; that once your part of the deal was handled, you’ll take the drive and disappear for good, something that he was no longer comfortable thinking about.
“You sure?” you ask, not entirely convinced of his answer.
“Yeah” John nods. “How about I head out to grab us some dinner? he suggests in a bid to change the topic.
John sat silently behind the wheel of the car, deep in thought as he stared out at the front-door of the apartment Y/N had secured for them to hideout in for the next two weeks. It had been over ten minutes now since he had arrived back with the food, yet he couldn’t will himself to exit the car; the thought that soon Y/N would be parting ways with them making him despondent. Realizing that he couldn’t stay in the car any longer or else the food would get cold, John releases one last tense breath and makes his exit.
Entering the apartment, John carefully placed the food down on the counter at the same time that Stanton enters the room. When removing something from his pocket, John doesn’t immediately notice the old toy marble of Stanton’s slipping out until he hears the sound of it bouncing on the floor.
John frantically searches for it, pausing instantly when he notices it at Stanton’s feet.
Bending down to pick it up, Stanton silently studies it. “It is you…” he stared with a bewildered look at John. “But how…?”
You were busy in the bedroom, going through the planning arrangements for when you all would be going separate ways. When midway through you heard the front door opening and closing, knowing it was John with the food; you decide to rap things up to head inside for dinner and that was when you walked in onto the scene that was slowly unravelling in front of you.
“Um…” a dumbstruck John stares at Stanton at lost for words to his comment.
Realizing what could possibly be happening, you step forward. “Do you know who he is, Stan?”
“Yes, I do…” Stanton answers looking to John with a faint smile than soon became broader by the second, “he’s my DAD.”
“Y-You remember me…?” John stares back at him, tears running down his cheek.
“At first I wasn’t sure if it was you” Stanton responds, “but this confirmed it” he refers to the toy marble in his hand.
“Well, guess we should all have a seat then so we can chat a bit more about everything…” you suggest to them. The two of them nod in agreement and everyone goes to grab a seat.
One Year Later
Entering the driveway of your home, you were surprised to see through the windows that the main entrance hallway lights were off. Finding it extremely suspicious, you carefully got out of the car to head inside.
“Sophia?!” you call out upon entering the front-door but there’s no response. Checking your wristwatch with a frown, you see that it was 5pm already, “John?! Stan?!”
Knowing that the two of them should have been home by now, you found it oddly strange that no one was answering you, even more so that neither was the housekeeper. Beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable with the silence and darkness of the house, you head upstairs to the main bedroom to retrieve your gun.
With slow hesitation, you enter into the bedroom, “John?” With no answer yet again, you were just about to head towards the safe to get your gun when noticing something lying on the bed.
On the bed was a beautiful champagne lace dress along with a black rose and note lying next to it. Wear me and head for the back garden, the note stated. Shaking your head at it with a smirk, you pick the dress up to change into.
With the rose in hand you excitedly head out the back-patio door towards the garden, noticing that the path was covered with more the black roses petals; a huge smile breaks across your face then as you curiously followed the trail.
Reaching the end of the trail, you break out in a soft chuckle when seeing John and Stan; both dressed in tuxedos standing under the lit gazebo. “What is this…?” you ask, taking hold of John’s outstretched hand.
Pulling you closer, John smiles down at you, “although we’re legally married, we never had a real wedding ceremony…” he explains, “and seeing that its the anniversary of the day we first met, I thought today would be perfect to have one.” “So, we’re having our wedding now?” you stare at him in excitement and he nods. “You do know; that although according to documentations we might be husband and wife, we never really got married, right?” you remark with a chuckle.
“Even more reason to have this ceremony then…” John responds with a dimpled smirk, “makes it finally official.”
“Yeah and I get to oversee it!” Stan remarks from where he stood under the gazebo.
You chuckle at his remark, “let’s get married then!” you respond.
John and you stood in front of Stan as you both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes while holding hands.
“Exactly a year ago today I was at my lowest and had given up all hope of ever achieving happiness, but that all changed when you walked into my life…” John smiles down at you, “you drove me crazy at first with your constant babbling and nonchalant manner.”
You giggle at John’s words and he teasingly frowns down at you, while Stan snickered beside the two of you. “Even though I wanted so much to strangle you at times…” John continues on, “I’m glad I didn’t, I’m glad I sucked it up. Because of you, I got my son back…” you both then turn to look at a broad smiling Stan.
“Not only did you give me my son back, but you also gave me another one…” John eyes then drops to your pregnant belly, “thank you for bringing the light back into my life.”
With tears in your eyes, you then realize it was your turn to speak. “If I had known about this then I would have prepared something…” you chuckle, “so, I’ll have to wing it.”
Clearing your throat, “ok, time to be serious now guys…” you shoot John and Stan a look to get them to quiet their chuckles at your remark.
“I honestly thought you were going to shoot me that day…” you look into John’s eyes with a smirk, “and annoying you was the most fun I’ve had in a long time... It was a up and down battle, one that was filled with many risks but they were worth it. What was just supposed to be a business transaction transformed into something so much bigger and better; it created the family we have now and I’m so glad you sucked it up and I gave into Stan’s request at the end of it all.”
John squeezes your hand tightly as you stare into each other’s eyes with huge smiles plastered over your faces. “Well… then without further ado…” Stan then speaks up, “by the power vested in Stan… you-may-kiss-the-bride…”
John and you look to Stan with a shake of your heads, snickering and then turn to each other. John cups your cheek, tipping down then to capture your lips in a kiss. “I LOVE YOU…” he remarks, pulling from the kiss.
“I LOVE YOU TOO…” you smile up at him. “What’s next on this evenings agenda?” you then ask in excitement.
“Well… first, there’s a romantic dinner set out in the dining-room…” John responds, “thereafter… we’re heading to the bedroom to get started on our wedding night…” he then bounces his brows suggestively at you.
“John!” you scold him, side eyeing Stan in embarrassment.
“Don’t worry…” Stan waves his hands in the air, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. And I'm heading out for the evening, so I will not be traumatized by the two of you going at it.”
John bursts out laughing while you stood open mouthed at Stan’s comment. “You guy’s weren’t as subtle nor quiet as you believed you were when we were on the road…”
“Oh my God!” you find yourself turning red now.
“No need to be embarrassed by it, Y/N/N…” Stan tries to reassure you, “I got a kid brother on the way because of it.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his remark then. “Anyway, enjoy your evening you two lovebirds and I’ll see you guys tomorrow…”
John and you stood silently smiling as you watched Stan leave. “I’m so glad he’s finally happy again for once…” you remark.
“Me too…” John responds, pulling flushed against him. “I’m so glad that he managed to convince you to come with us.”
“I am too…” you agreed, stroking his cheek.
“Any regrets?” John looks deep into your eyes, a small flash of fear crossing his eyes for a split second.
Cupping his face with both of your hands, you answer him earnestly, “None… and you?”
A huge dimple smirk spreads across his face, “None… Now let’s get started on our wedding night!” he announces out loudly, picking you up bridal style and carrying you inside as you giggled out at his goofiness.
Everything had worked out well in the end for all of you...
During the chat with Stan, he had confessed to remembering everything that had happened the day Maxwell had killed his mother and taken him. That after years of being told it was all in his imagination, he had finally decided to remain quiet about it and instead went along with Maxwell’s lies, yet deep down he still knew the truth and kept it a secret to himself rather.
Once everything had been cleared up and settled, there was nothing further to be done but finalize the arrangements for everyone’s departures. When Stan was asked where he would like to start his new life with his father; he had suggested a move to Greece and you agreed to see to the necessary documentations to make it possible.
You were then suddenly caught off-guard when Stan approached you, asking you to come with them. Explaining to Stan then; that his father definitely didn’t want you going with them, you were then even more surprised when John suddenly spoke up and confessed wanting you to come with as well.
So, just like that; John and you officially became Husband and Wife, you were Stan’s Step-Mother and the three of you managed to safely escape the clutches of both the FBI and the criminal syndicates that was after Maxwell’s money.
Everything had worked out well… Everything was perfect…
#The Courier/Evil Sivle#the courier x reader#the Courier x y/n#the courier (2012)#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#JDM
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Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)
AN UNUSUAL NEW UPDATE
[ Includes ]
Wireplay (Sort of?)
Filthy, filthy smut
Dub con (I guess?)
Really, really enthusiastic con the immediate next line
Overstimulation
Robophilia
[ Read at your own discretion! ]
[ Heavily inspired by this AO3 Fanfiction]
It was a relatively slow day at the Lucky 38. Well, as slow as things can be around here. You’d sent Yes Man out on a small quest on your behalf; getting rid of some remaining Caeser’s Legion members hiding out in Freeside.
It wouldn’t be even remotely challenging for the both of you, especially compared to the other things you’d fought in the wasteland. Compared to an army of charging Deathclaws, a couple of Rome cosplayers were trivially easy to deal with. So, you sent Yes Man out by himself. It would simply be more efficient.
Quest completed
PICKING OFF STRAGGLERS
Ah, speak of the devil.
Almost like clockwork, the doors to the Lucky 38 swung open, a blood-soaked Yes Man entering the building. Needless to say from his now crimson chassis, the mission was a success.
“Hello Courier! I’m glad to say the last few members of Caeser’s Legion have been properly dealt with!”
“I could tell. You might want to clean yourself off, bud. Dried blood doesn’t come out too easily.”
Yes Man inspected his dark red chassis, examining his arms, coated in dried blood.
“That sounds like a great idea!”
Yes Man began to make his way to a backroom in the Lucky 38, when he suddenly paused, and turned to face you.
“Oh, I almost forgot! On the way, I also paid a visit to Mick & Ralph’s!”
A hidden compartment revealed itself on Yes Man’s chassis with a satisfying hiss and click, as he reached inside, unveiling a slightly rusted holodisk. It looked fairly normal on the outside, only with a small label plastered on; ‘From, Ralph’.
“A man in a Buffalo Check shirt gave me this; he told me he’d ‘heard about how things turned out for you’ and asked me to help him deliver this! I’m not sure what it does, but boy, does it sound interesting!”
“Interesting, indeed. I’ll have Raul take a look at this.”
“That sounds like a great idea! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be thoroughly scrubbed down! Really, really thoroughly!”
Quest added
TALK TO RAUL
“Hey boss, how can I help ya?”
You passed over the holodisk, placing it gently on his desk.
“Could you help me take a look at this?”
“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.”
He delicately picked up the holodisk, examining it closely. Inspecting the label, still on the device.
“Ah, from Mick & Ralph’s, I see.”
Raul lightly dusted the holodisk, before loading it into the personal terminal located on his desk. With a few swift clicks on his keyboard, the screen lit up, green text rapidly loading onto the display. He read the gibberish on the screen carefully, like it was a language only he could understand.
“Luckily for me, it ain’t some kind of malware.”
“Then, what is it?”
“It looks like some package of code intended for Securitrons. It’s not even anything major by the looks of it, just changes up some button inputs.”
Raul scrolled through the brief paragraph of code, discovering more text, this time actually understandable, product information, it seemed. Raul read through it thoroughly, scoffing when he finished. He rotated the terminal, facing the CRT monitor towards you.
“Boss, they wrote down what this thing does right here. Come and take a look, I think you’ll be… interested.”
Quest completed
TALK TO RAUL
Quest added
READ THE FOOTNOTES
Quest completed
READ THE FOOTNOTES
Quest added
INSTALL THE DISK
“Courier, are you sure about this?”
“Yes Man, I promise you; this holodisk won’t affect your personality in any way, and if you feel otherwise, you can always tell me to stop. You had that personality upgrade installed for a reason, right?”
“I-I’m not telling you to stop! I just sure hope you know what you’re doing, because you aren’t, this Securitron body may self-destruct! And that would be bad, really bad.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
You carefully installed the holodisk. Yes Man’s, unlike other Securitrons, circuits were haphazardly placed all over the inside of his chassis. Whatever Benny did to him, he sure did it messily. Eventually, however, after working through piles of unsorted wires and mismatched machinery, the disk was installed. With a brief system reboot, Yes Man had been successfully updated.
Quest completely
INSTALL THE DISK
Quest added
UPGRADE PLAYTEST
“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t feel any different. Or explosive. Well, that’s a good sign!”
“Not so fast, Yes Man. There’s still one more thing I need to do. I need to see if the upgrade works as intended.”
“Sounds interesting! How may I help you with that?”
“Don’t worry, just stand still. You’ll find out what that holodisk does very, very soon.”
Gently, you lead your hand towards Yes Man’s keypad. You deftly place a finger on a key, pressing it before he had a chance to react.
“O-oh!”
“How was it?”
“D-do that again…please?”
“Sure thing, big guy.”
Click!
“A-ah!”
Click!
“Ngh-!”
Click!
“M-mph!”
Yes Man was losing his composure more and more with each deft click, his antenna spinning rapidly and a cool layer of condensation forming on his display. Of course, how could he have forgotten, Mick & Ralph’s had experience working on robots before with Fisto, didn’t they? Of course their idea of an upgrade would be… this.
Not that he was complaining, though.
“W-wow! That feels really, really good…”
You carelessly push a few buttons all at once.
“H-Hah-!”
There you go, just let me hear those beautiful noises.
“O-oh! S-six!”
You decide to go all in, discarding any resemblance of self-control. Using and holding as many keys as your fingers could reach.
“O-oh my-y-!”
“Having fun, bud?”
“I-I love you I love you I love you-!”
"I'll take that as a yes."
Yes Man’s vocal processor was being pushed to its limits, the audio scratched and staticy as Yes Man wore his metaphorical throat out singing moans of pleasure, screaming to the heavens above. His display was drenched in condensation as water droplets visibly dripped down his chassis. The tornado-like buzz of cooling fans were the only other audible noise amongst the squeals of pure ecstasy.
“Y-you’re my everything-g-g-g-!”
“Glad to hear it. You ready?”
“P-p-please!”
Silly boy, his processors were already turning into melted plastic from the overstimulation.
“I’ll just press one more button, alright?”
“P-please please please please-!”
Click!
Quest completed
UPGRADE PLAYTEST
Quest added
CRASH LANDING
Quest completed
CRASH LANDING
“Yes Man? You there, bud?”
“W-what?”
“Oh thank god, you’re still alive.”
“Oh, hello Courier!”
Yes Man scanned his surroundings, having woken up on the floor of Raul’s workshop. His circuits were exposed, connected by several multi-coloured wires to a terminal being manned by the mechanic himself. He must’ve crashed.
“Luckily for you, your main circuits aren’t badly damaged. You just blew a few fuses.”
“Wow! That was… sure some upgrade!”
“Some upgrade, indeed.”
You deftly place a hand on his keypad, with a touch so feathery light that it didn’t manage to push down on any of the keys, but merely tease him with the warmth radiating for your hand. A sensation he could barely even feel, but felt so, so good.
“So, how about a round two?”
“Y-yes please!”
Raul scoffs, turning off his terminal and unplugging the several cords connected to it. He lifts himself out of his chair with a grunt, and makes his way to the door.
“I’ll let you two do your thing then, boss.”
Quest added
JUST A FEW MORE ROUNDS
#fallout#fallout companions#fallout new vegas#yes man fallout#yes man#fnv#fnv courier#fallout nv#new vegas#courier 6#courier six#fnv yes man#yes man fnv#raul tejada#lucky 38#yes man x reader#yes man x y/n#no y/n#self insert#smut#self indulgent#wireplay#wire play#??? i think#maybe its buttonplay or smth#filthy thoughts#overstim kink#dubc0n#? i guess#but really really enthusiastic con like one line later soooo
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Just passing through (Yandere Courier x Reader)
I’m doing it again courier thought as he passed the same apartment building for the third time that day. He reasoned that it just so happens to be the shortest way to where he was going but deep down, he knew it was because of who lived in the building, yet he just can’t let himself admit that.
It was just a few weeks ago when he saw them again for the first time in years. An old friend from his childhood the only other person that he was close to but after everything that went down, he just couldn’t bear to be around them anymore even when he started to feel guilty, he just couldn’t bring himself to see them again that was until he saw them walking out of the store randomly by chance or fate.
They had grown just like he had along with the feelings he tried to bury deep into his heart. It was only a few days later when the second meeting happened, he had seen them simply walking down the sidewalk. He couldn’t help but to follow them all the way until they were home. Maybe it was because he was looking out for them just like he did all those years ago.
He had no plans on communicating with them. Simply passing through their neighborhood was enough for him until one night it had been the sixth time that day he had gone through the neighborhood after a delivery when he looked up to the window and saw a silhouette that looked nothing like them. That’s when he decided to go down another path.
#yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere akudama drive#akudama drive#akudama courier#akudama drive x reader#courier headcanons#courier x reader#yandere courier
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Bangtan’s Receptionist
Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.
Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.
A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!
- Tae 🥰💜✨
Request to join my taglist here!
Masterlist
Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.
You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.
“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.
“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”
“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.
After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.
“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.
“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.
“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”
You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.
“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”
You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.
“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”
“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”
“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”
“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.
“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.
“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.
“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.
“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.
“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”
“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”
“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.
“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”
Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.
“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.
“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”
Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.
“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”
“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”
“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.
“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.
A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.
“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.
“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.
“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”
“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.
“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.
It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.
#bts angst#bts fluff#bts ot7 x reader#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#yoongi mafia AU#BTS mafia AU#BTS AU#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x You#min yoongi
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A Test Of Faith
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: to test the BAU, a bold unsub abducts one of their members and sends the team on a wild goose chase. with reckless decisions and personal feelings taking hold, will the team be able to save one of their own or will their faith in each other come crumbling down?
warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugs, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of injury, angst, 3rd person, slight fluff, minor cursing
word count: 7k
a/n: this isn’t proofread so i’m sorry for any mistakes!
part two (coming soon)
read on ao3
friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!
“Hey, has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Reid asked with a frown as he entered the bullpen, hanging his bag over the back of his chair.
“She’s not here yet, why?”
His face only scrunched up further at Morgan’s words. He knew it was unusual for her to be late to work, let alone skip out on plans at the last minute. “It’s just, we were supposed to get coffee this morning but she didn’t show.”
Morgan shrugged. “Maybe she overslept?”
“Maybe…”
He wanted to believe it because the alternative, which had already begun to play on his mind, was much worse. Still, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that was starting to settle into the bottom of his stomach. That uneasy feeling which had taken hold before he’d even left the coffee shop where they were supposed to meet.
Something was wrong. He knew that even before the box arrived.
It was delivered by courier directly to the office. The only indicator of who it was for was in thick, red marker across the top of the box which spelt out nothing but ‘BAU’. The handwriting was neat but unnecessarily large.
Morgan held the box, inspecting it as Reid and Prentiss peered over his shoulders.
“What is it?” Emily questioned, waiting for Morgan to open the package.
“Nothing good.” All eyes turned to their superior as he approached, holding up a letter written in the same red ink that decorated the box.
Hotchner passed the note to Prentiss, allowing her to read it to the rest of the team. “‘For Agent Hotchner at the BAU. A package will arrive not long after you read this, I suggest you gather your team and prepare for the game’?”
“Game? What game?”
Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan’s question, already trying to piece together what was going on. “You don’t think this has anything to do with why y/n is late, do you?”
“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re going to need the whole team on this. Reid, try to get in contact with y/n and find out where she is. Prentiss, gather the others. I want everyone in the briefing room within the next five minutes.”
Just like that, the group dispersed and, within minutes, they assembled again for the briefing.
“Still no y/n?”
Reid shook his head as he pushed his phone back into his pocket. “She isn’t answering her phone.”
“No matter, we’ll have to catch her up when she gets here. We can’t waste any more time, we need to know what’s inside the box,” Hotch sighed and signalled for Morgan to finally open it up.
The team watched on anxiously, worried about the contents of the package they’d received. More often than not, packages with notes such as the one they’d received were a little more than unpleasant.
The one thing that gave them hope, was the fact that no blood seemed to be staining the cardboard from the inside. Although that didn’t mean there wasn’t a victim’s body part inside
“A CD?” Morgan frowned when he revealed its contents, only growing more curious as he checked both the front and back of the case.
It was Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds, not that anyone thought that detail was of any particular importance.
“Could just be a case the unsub is using to protect the disc. It’s most likely a video,” JJ gave her input as she reached out for the disc before moving to play it on the screen.
The room was silent as she prepared the video, nervous to find out what was on it.
Would it be a video of the unsub? Perhaps a video of them committing a crime? Murder? Torture? Assault? Something else altogether? Or had it really just been a prank? Was it really just an album?
“Oh god-” Garcia gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth the moment the video began to play, tears already pricking in the corner of her startled eyes.
That uneasy feeling in Reid’s gut only grew stronger, twisting and turning until it became all that consumed him. It had never been this bad before, not even when he himself was the one in danger. He was terrified.
Terrified for her.
There she was. Y/n, the agent who had not been late to work but abducted by their unsub. Taken in the dead of night to become a pawn in his sick game.
She was standing, just barely, with nothing but the chains around her wrists holding her up. Half-dried blood stained her forehead and matted her hair. The video only lasted for fifty-five seconds. Fifty-five seconds of nothing but her hanging there, feet barely on the ground. She was conscious but only just, likely concussed from the wound on her head.
“She’s been struck around the head, likely to incapacitate her before she could fight back during the abduction,” Morgan identified, eyes trained on the video.
“The unsub knows what he’s doing. There isn’t anything in the video that could indicate where she is,” Rossi added as he perched down on the end of the table to examine the paused video further.
Hotch hummed as he too was glued to the screen. “She can’t be far, she must have been abducted sometime since leaving here yesterday and this morning. Most likely during the night.”
JJ turned from the screen, unable to watch any longer. “We left at the same time last night and it’s unlikely she would have stopped on her way home.”
“Can we stop talking about her like she’s some random victim? This is y/n we’re talking about,” Reid snapped, drawing all eyes to him.
Each new comment in the discussion had been piling up until he just couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t just some case, nor was it any other victim. This was y/n — their friend.
“Reid, we know she isn’t just any victim but we have to look at this like we would any other case. It’s the only way we’re going to find her,” Morgan reminded, hoping to ease Reid at least a little.
“JJ, play the video again. We need to look for anything that could help us figure out where they are and Reid, I need you to focus. We’re going to need your brain on this.”
The youngest of them nodded, heeding Hotch’s words. This was just a game to the unsub — a game he’d made specifically for the BAU team. They were the only ones who could save her, he knew that.
“Hey, there’s something else in here. Looks like a note, taped to the inside of the box,” Prentiss announced before JJ had a chance to replay the video.
“What is it?” Reid was the first to jump at the new information, hoping it would be a better indication of where their missing friend was than the video.
Prentiss carefully tore the note from the box and began to read it out loud, “It’s a riddle. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains but no trees. I have water but no fish. What am I?’”
“A map,” Reid concluded after only a brief moment of pause, “It’s a map.”
“A map? I don’t see any kind of map here.” Morgan gestured at the now empty package before crossing his arms over his chest. He knew the wonder boy was right but he still couldn’t understand what the riddle could mean.
Hotch too seemed to be running circles in his head, unsure of what their unsub was trying to point them to. “Does it say anything else?”
Emily looked up from the note with troubled eyes as she voiced the final part, “Find her by midnight and she’ll live. Good luck, Agents.”
As if on cue, Reid vocalised the conclusion he had come to in his head, jumping to his feet like he was about to rush there himself without a second thought. “The Marina.”
“You think the unsub is holding her at the Marina?”
“I think it’s the only indication of a map I can find in all this. Marina and the Diamonds? The unsub didn’t choose that album without reason.”
Hotch hummed, seemingly agreeing with Reid’s deduction, and began to give directions. “Okay. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi will come with me to the Marina. JJ, I need you and Reid to watch the video again. Look for anything we might have missed in case we’re wrong. And Garcia, I need you to track down exactly who delivered the package and where they delivered it from.”
Everyone got to their feet, springing into action as they would on any other case. They all knew their part to play and knew it was vital in locating their missing team member. Everyone other than Reid, who was less than happy to have been told to stay behind.
“No, I’m going with you.”
“Reid…” Hotch turned to him with a hand to his brow, already anticipating the headache that was to come if he continued to clash with the young doctor.
“No,” he cut him off again, “This is not negotiable. I’m going to the Marina with you.”
With a sigh, the unit chief gave in, knowing there was little he could do to keep Reid in the office. “Okay, Reid you’re with us. Prentiss, you stay here with JJ. Call us the moment you find anything.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Spencer had been restless the entire ride there. His hands were fidgety in his lap, his nails occasionally digging into the skin of his palms. He was stressed and more on edge than the rest of the team, not that anyone had expected any less.
Everyone knew that Reid had had a budding crush on y/n since she joined the BAU. Not that he’d ever acted on it. Morgan teased him about it constantly, comparing it to a schoolboy crush. Only, it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. Not anymore.
The longer they had gotten to know one another, the closer y/n and Reid became. He felt as though she was the only one who really saw him, not that the rest of the team didn’t care greatly for him. She just understood him better than anyone else.
So, to say it was a simple crush would be a lie. He was in love with her. How couldn’t he be? She was pretty and funny and kind and a great agent. She saw him for who he really was and accepted every part of him. She stood up for him when the team teased him about his rambling. She always listened so intently, never once cutting him off no matter what it was he was talking about.
He was in love with her but now, he feared more than ever that he was about to lose her.
“She’s going to be okay, Reid,” Morgan comforted from the seat beside him, squeezing Reid’s shoulder as if the gesture would ease his fear.
Nothing would ease it. Not until she was safe.
It wasn’t like Reid to doubt himself. He knew he was right about the riddle, he had to be, yet he was still starting to wonder what would happen if he was wrong.
They only had until midnight. There was no time to spare and if he was wrong about this they might just lose her.
“I know,” he lied, trying to mask his true feelings.
Morgan sighed, seeing through Reid’s weak façade. No matter what he said or did, it hadn’t stopped his legs from bouncing or his hands from shaking.
The moment they arrived, Reid was fast to get out of the van. Too enthusiastic about rushing in headfirst to save her. He glanced around, taking in the fresh air as if his lungs had been deprived for hours.
“Spread out and search the area,” Hotch ordered and the team nodded, checking their vests one last time before pulling out their guns for the sweep.
They searched almost everywhere but found nothing. No sign that y/n or the unsub had ever been there. It was just a Marina and none of the boats there were big enough to fit the room they’d seen in the video.
Reid was beginning to believe that he really was wrong, that he had just wasted time they didn’t have on a hunch. Well, he was beginning to lose hope until Rossi called the team over to his location.
With a fast-beating heart, Reid ran as fast as he could manage to see what Rossi had found. He prayed it was her and that she was safe — that it was over.
Disappointment was not quite the right word for his feelings when he arrived and saw she wasn’t there because something was there. Another note, written in that same red marker.
“‘So you figured it out. Well done, agents. I hate to disappoint but your missing agent isn’t here but I hope this gift will help keep you on the trail’?” Rossi read the letter aloud before turning it over to find a USB taped to the other side.
“He’s playing with us.” Morgan shook his head, already growing tired of the unsub’s game.
“Or testing us,” Reid argued, “He’s referred to us as ‘agents’ in every note so far. It’s like he’s-”
“A part of the bureau,” Hotch finished for him, drawing the same conclusion, “Likely an ex-agent or even an ex-recruit.”
Morgan’s brow creased and he asked, “By why us? Why is he testing us? And why did he take y/n? He could have taken any one of us, why her?”
“Because she’s the newest member of the BAU. Maybe he doesn’t see her as an official member of the team yet?” Queried Reid.
“Or he just thought she’d be the easiest to abduct because she’s less experienced,” Rossi added.
“Whatever the reason, we don’t have a lot of time. The unsub must have had base access to use the marina. Reid, Morgan, I need you to speak with the workers here. See if they’ve seen anyone strange and ask for records to find out who owns this boat. We’ll head back to check in with the rest of the team and get this to Garcia.” Hotch held up the USB, knowing Garcia was the safest person to give it to as there was no way to know what would be on it.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Anything?”
“No, you?”
Reid shrugged. “Not much but I did get a name for the boat owner. Rudd Richardson.”
“Did you run it by Garcia?”
“Yeah, Rudd Richardson died three years ago.”
Morgan hummed in thought. “So our unsub is using a dead man’s name?”
“Maybe. Garcia is looking for any other property that is still registered in his name but she hasn’t been able to find anything yet and it doesn’t look like the unsub has taken Richardson’s identity.”
Their discussion was cut short when Reid’s phone began to ring.
“Garcia?”
He shook his head, looking up from his phone in disbelief. “No. It’s y/n.”
Right away Morgan pulled out his cell to call Garcia. If it really was y/n or even the unsub they would need her to trace the call.
“Y/n?” Questioned Reid as he put the phone on speaker, his voice already settling into a tone of urgency.
The line was silent but the trace had already begun, all they needed to do now was keep them on the phone.
After a brief moment of static, a weak voice finally spoke from the other side, “Reid?”
“Y/n! Y/n, can you tell us where you are? Are you alright?” He spoke at a hundred miles a minute, desperate to know she was okay.
Static again as the phone on the other end seemed to move from one ear to another.
The young doctor gulped as another voice began to speak, “She knew you would figure it out… The first clue. Let’s see how quickly you figure out the rest. The sands of time are forever slipping…”
The voice was dark and warped, spoken through a voice-changing device. Its sinister vibrations sent a chill up Spencer’s spine.
“Wait! Y/n!”
“Dammit,” Morgan spoke bitterly, knowing the call had not been long enough to give them any hint on their location, “He’s taunting us.”
“We need to get back to the others. He said this was the first clue, the USB must be the next.”
Morgan sighed. “We have to play his game. Or we may never find her…”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Please tell me you guys have got something,” Morgan asked while looking down at his watch.
There was still time but there was no way to know if the unsub would stay true to his word.
“Nothing yet. The USB locked Garcia out of the system the moment she plugged it in, she’s trying to regain access now,” JJ explained with a sigh before turning her attention back to the files in her hands.
Reid was only growing more anxious and began fishing for anything else that could be of use. “What about the video?”
“Nothing. We’ve watched it a hundred times but there’s nothing in it that could tell us where they are.” Prentiss chimed in as she too walked over with a new batch of files.
“So what do we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for Garcia to get the system up and running again.”
JJ split the files he was holding into three before passing a pile out to Reid and Morgan. “I know you’re worried, Spence. We all are but there isn’t a lot we can do right now. Until she gets back in all we really can do is look at these files to see if anyone fits the profile.”
“Profile? We’ve got a profile?” Morgan questioned as he began to flick through the files.
“Well, Hotch told us you think it’s an ex-agent or recruit but other than that we don’t really have a lot to go on so right now we’re just looking for anyone that sticks out.”
Reid dropped the files down onto the desk with a scoff, “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“It’s better than sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” Morgan shrugged.
“Look, Reid, if you don’t want to look through the files then go help Hotch and Rossi. They’re looking for anywhere she could be being held. Warehouses, storerooms, abandoned homes. Look for anything and everything and start making it down.”
He only grew more frustrated as he listened to Prentiss. “So if we run out of time we’re just going to start knocking on doors until we find her?”
“We don’t really have any other choice right now. Not until Garcia gets back into the system. He’s testing us, right? So this is probably just another test. She’s got this.”
Like Morgan, Reid also had full faith that Garcia would get back into the system but he was worried about how long it would take her to do so. They were on the clock and every second they spent sitting around waiting for her would only bring them closer to their deadline.
So, to try and ease his mind, Spencer decided to go help Hotch and Rossi in the hope that it would help bring them closer to finding y/n.
𓆩♡𓆪
“I’m back in. I’m back in!” Garcia cried out and soon the team were rushing into her office.
It had been no longer than an hour but that was still an hour they didn’t have to spare in the first place.
She tapped away on her keyboard, eyes flickering across the screen at the speed of light as she searched for any trace of what the unsub had tried to achieve by locking her out of her own system.
“He’s watching us,” she announced when her tapping fingers finally began to calm down, “I don’t think I can remove him from the system, not from my end anyway. I had to reboot the whole thing just to get back in. It’s amazing he’s even still here.”
“So he can see everything we do?” Rossi questioned, wanting to know exactly what the unsub was able to do with his access to the system.
Garcia hummed, “Yep. Well, he can see through our webcams but he doesn’t have access to my screen. That was a nasty piece of malware but it won’t give him access to any of my files.”
Just as Hotch opened his mouth to speak, a notification sound rang from the speakers and a message popped up on the screen. It was typed out rather than written but the red colour still prevailed.
‘Well done, Agents. You’ve cracked the code and earned your next clue: I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?’
“Love… the answer is love,” Reid announced with a tightening heart.
“But what does that mean? Love, what kind of a clue is that?” Morgan complained, once again growing tired of the game they were being forced to play.
Prentiss hummed in thought for a moment before asking, “What about wedding venues? A church maybe?”
“Or some kind of date spot? A restaurant?” JJ added.
Before long, everyone was throwing out ideas but nothing was clicking.
Hotch was the first to catch onto the lead again. “Garcia, see if Mr Richardson was married.”
“Okay.” The tech-whiz complied and began tapping away on her keyboard again.
Within only a few short seconds she had her answer. “He married Triss Anderson in 1984 but she died during childbirth over twenty years ago.”
“What about their child?” Morgan prompted, drawing at any loose threads.
Her eyes flicked over the screen again as she searched for the information. “They had a daughter. She’s living here in Quantico, only a few blocks away from here actually.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
𓆩♡𓆪
“No car,” Prentiss stated as they approached the house.
Rossi stepped up to the door while Reid and Morgan peered in through the windows.
“Look’s like no one’s home,” Morgan sighed.
Still, Rossi tried the door. “Miss Richardson?”
When no response came, he banged again.
“You’re looking for Jen?” They turned around to the neighbour, eager to hear what she had to say. “She left for vacation just over a week ago. I’m Michelle, I live across the street. Maybe I can help you?”
“Do you know when she’s supposed to come home?” Reid questioned, worried they had wasted their time.
Michelle thought for a moment before replying, “Actually, now that you mention it I think she was due back last night.”
“So she hasn’t come home?” Asked Prentiss as she hurriedly pulled out her phone.
“No, I guess not. You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?”
As Rossi began to reassure Miss Richardson’s neighbour, the others quickly headed back to the van.
Prentiss held her phone to her ear, exchanging a worried glance with Morgan as she spoke with the unit chief, “Hotch, we might have another missing person on our hands.”
“Are you Spencer Reid?”
Spencer turned from the van just before opening the door to find a young boy standing behind him.
“Yeah, you know me?”
The child shook his head and shyly held out a piece of paper and pointed down the street with his free hand. “That man over there told me to give this to you.”
As he took the paper, Spencer quickly looked in the direction the boy was pointing but whoever may have been there had long since gone.
“Thank you, kid. Get home safe now, okay?” Morgan had to speak for him while Reid examined the note.
“It’s an address, Morgan. He’s given us an address.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Wasting no time, the group headed for the address on the note. Garcia ran it through the system and found it to be an empty home, one currently up for sale.
It was the perfect place for the unsub to hold them, although Morgan still doubted the nature of the note. It didn’t make sense for him to just give them the answer now. Not after making them jump through hoops to so much as obtain a single clue.
“Reid, wait,” he reached out for the youngest, holding him back from rushing straight inside, “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.”
“We can’t wait, what if y/n is in there?” Reid was quick to shake him off, desperate to find her.
Morgan sighed as he pulled out his gun. “The unsub could be in there too, just don’t do anything rash.”
Spencer was the first to the door. He stood ready as Morgan exchanged one quick, affirmative glance with Rossi before kicking down the door.
In the blink of an eye, all four agents infiltrated the home and began to cautiously clear each room.
“Clear!” Prentiss called out from the bathroom as Morgan and Reid began to scale the stairs.
She slowly approached the bedroom, knowing it was the last room to check. If they were going to find anything, it was going to be in there.
When Morgan and Reid were close enough behind her to have her back, she reached for the handle and quickly opened the door.
She checked every corner of the room before giving the all-clear but something was wrong. Her voice was quiet, choked even, as she entered the room.
Morgan turned to Reid, not knowing what to do other than keep him away to stop him from looking inside but he was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them inside.
“Y/n? Y/n!” he cried as he rushed towards the room, shoving past Morgan who moved to stop him.
In the middle of the empty room was a body. A woman wearing clothes Reid recognised. She was lifeless and stained in blood. When his hands shakily reached out to her, he felt the coldness of her skin on the tips of his fingers.
He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.
He got back up, unable to bring himself to look at her face – to turn her over and come face-to-face with her void eyes.
Everything was a blur, all of his senses going dull as Morgan moved to further inspect the body.
Emily too was standing near the door as if she were frozen in place with her hand covering her mouth.
Slowly, Morgan rolled the body over onto its back. He was quiet, almost too quiet, before he finally released the breath he had been holding.
“It’s not her.”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Jena Richardson, daughter of Rodd Richardson. A twenty-six-year-old entrepreneur. She was supposed to go on vacation to Europe eight days ago,” Garcia read through the information she had discovered about the woman.
“He chose her for a reason. He did all of this for a reason. Been planning it for a while too.”
Hotch hummed in agreement with Morgan. “He took Miss Richardson before she had a chance to leave for her vacation, she never left. Her bags are likely still inside her home.”
“And when he took y/n, he stole some of her clothes to dress the victim in so that we would think it was her. That’s why he chose the victim… because she looked like y/n,” Prentiss concluded.
The whole team had gathered in the briefing room again, discussing their next course of action.
“There was nothing else on the body or in the house? No next clue? Nothing to tell us where he might be holding her?” Hotch questioned, hopeful that there would have been something — anything.
Prentiss shook her head. There was nothing. Nothing at all. They had searched everywhere. Every single inch of that house but there was nothing there. Nothing but the body.
“Then we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, maybe the unsub left a clue for us there.”
“No, we don’t have time to wait. We only have a few hours left. There has to be something we’re missing.” Reid began to pace the room, running through everything they’d discovered so far in his head.
“Reid,” Morgan began, “We’ve run out of options but we still have time.”
The young doctor only began to shake his head, his eyes glaring in disbelief that his team could even suggest to sit around and wait while y/n was in danger. “No, we don’t. We have hours and if we just keep sitting around waiting she’s going to die.”
Just like that, he was storming out of the briefing room and, while Hotch gave new directions to the rest of the team, JJ jumped up to go after him.
“Spence!”
“If you’re just going to tell me to sit tight and wait like everyone else you’re wasting your breath.”
She understood how he was feeling because she knew how he felt about y/n. She knew it was a fool's errand trying to calm him down or convince him everything was going to be alright. All she wanted to do was be there for him when hope began to fade.
“Where are you going?”
He tugged at his collar, his fingers moving to loosen his tie in a desperate attempt to breathe. “I need some air.”
She let it be as he rushed through the bullpen, heading straight for the elevator. If she had left a moment earlier, she wouldn’t have heard the sound of a text coming through on his phone as the elevator doors began to close.
His eyes widened as he read the message, one that had come through from her: ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Love? When you lose the thing you love, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to be reunited with it. That’s what I did, you know. I reunited Miss Richardson with her beloved father. Now I’m giving you the chance to be reunited with the one you love, so long as you come alone.’
Another text came through by the time he reached the bottom of the building. Another address.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Where’s Reid?”
JJ looked up from her paperwork and glanced out into the bullpen. “He’s not back yet?”
Morgan frowned. “No. Where did he go?”
“He said he needed to get some air but he should have been back by now,” she explained as she stood up, realising what had happened, “Shit.”
“What?”
“He got a text before he got into the elevator.”
Morgan was already half out of the room by the time she finished her sentence. “The unsub.”
The two of them all but ran to the rest of their team, already gathering their things to leave as questions started flooding in.
“Reid’s gone after him,” Morgan announced as the rest of the team gathered their equipment and began to head for the door.
“Alone?” Prentiss furrowed her brows, she had hoped he would have known better than that.
JJ stuttered, still in disbelief, “H-He said he was just going outside to get some air.”
Hotch was already pointing Garcia back into her office before she’d even made it through the door. “Garcia I need you to find Reid’s car. Tell us the moment you know what direction he was headed.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Everyone was in hyperdrive, working against the clock to find Reid and y/n before it was too late. They were already in the SUVs, splitting into two groups before they even had any information on where he was going.
𓆩♡𓆪
There he stood, outside a property that they never would have even considered including during their search for it was not empty or abandoned but rather a home. A home that seemed well lived in from the moment he stepped inside.
No one was there. Not a single soul. Yet every surface was decorated with family pictures. A mother, father and son. A happy family.
From the photos, the son seemed to be no older than four and all Reid could do was hope nothing bad had happened to him or his family.
With his gun raised, he slowly made his way through the house until he reached the door he was looking for — the door to the basement.
Quietly, he descended into the darkest depths of the house. The stairs barely made a creak and, by the time he could see into the room, he saw her.
“Welcome, Doctor Reid.”
The man was standing beside her, face half-hidden in the shadows. He had a knife and held it firmly near her stomach in a silent threat.
“Let her go,” Reid demanded, although when the unsub did not budge, he opted for negotiation over immediate violence.
Stepping from the shadows, the unsub revealed himself. Reid recognised him the moment the dull light illuminated his features. He was the father in the photos upstairs but he was older now and more unkept than he appeared in the pictures.
“I don’t know what happened to your family but please, you have to let her go,” he pleaded again, eyes flickering over to y/n.
Other than the injuries she had sustained during the abduction, she seemed okay but he noticed how weak she seemed. Her injuries were not bad enough to be the cause of her drowsy state. The unsub may not have harmed her further but it seemed likely she had been drugged.
“Reid…” she spoke in a quiet voice, her hooded eyes barely open as she looked at him, struggling to lift her head.
The unsub looked between them with a smile as if he was truly happy to see them this way. “Young love, isn’t it so precious?”
“What do you want?”
“Me? No, this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want,” the unsub looked at y/n as she stood half-dangling beside him and pointed, “Her. You want her, don’t you?”
Reid raised his gun again, finger resting on the trigger the moment the man drew closer to her.
“You lost your family,” he stated, gaining the unsub’s attention once again, “Your wife and son. You lost them, didn’t you?”
Hesitantly, the man nodded. “They were taken from me, just as she was taken from you. In the night while I was away.”
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt her. It won’t bring them back.”
“Oh, but I do. When I sent my case to the BAU, you turned it down. It wasn’t a serial killer or a professional hit. Just a burglary gone wrong. I was at work when it happened, out late on the job. I wanted to join the FBI, you know? I was a recruit.”
The more he explained, the more Spencer began to understand. The unsub’s connection to the BAU, and the resentment he held for them. The loss of his family had driven him to his breaking point and he blamed them for not finding the killer.
Why had he taken y/n? Well, it wasn’t because she was a newer member of the BAU or because she was less experienced than the others but because somehow he knew. He knew how Spencer felt about her and he wanted to show a member of the BAU the same pain he felt when he lost his family.
“Please, just put the knife down. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
The unsub held the knife tighter than before, raising it to her neck. “Oh, but it does. I want you to do it. I want you to reunite me with them. Send me to them, please. If you refuse, I’ll take her from you just as they were taken from me.”
Reid shook his head, refusing to play his twisted game any longer. “Put the knife down.”
“I hoped it could have been different.”
Time seemed to move in slow motion as the unsub lifted his arm, angling the knife back onto her abdomen as he swung it down.
“No!”
𓆩♡𓆪
“Garcia, you’re sure he’s here?”
The technical analyst hummed over the line. “Positive.”
“I see his car,” JJ announced as she climbed out of the SUV, already rushing toward the house.
The team approached the building with caution, not wanting to rush in and startle the unsub into doing anything rash. They knew Reid was inside but they didn’t want to put him in any more danger.
Only, before they even reached the front door, they heard a gunshot and all caution flew to the wind as Morgan kicked down the door and burst inside.
They cleared each room before reaching the entrance to the basement and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, all guns were aimed at the door. They stood their ground, ready for whatever they were to face but when the door finally opened, all anyone could do was breathe a sigh of relief.
“Reid!” Morgan was by his side the moment he stepped through the door with her in his arms.
Hotch saw the spattering of blood that stained her clothes and looked into his eye. With just an exchanged glance, he knew what had transpired.
The unsub was dead. It was finally over.
Despite Morgan’s offer for help, Spencer carried her all the way outside to the paramedics. He stayed with her still as they lifted her into the ambulance. She was out of it, barely aware of what was going on.
“Go with them, we’ll meet you there.”
Reid offered a subtle nod to his unit chief, thankful that he was allowing him to accompany her to the hospital.
𓆩♡𓆪
Quiet beeps echoed through the room, the sound of the monitor that continued to track the beats of her heart.
Reid sat waiting, hands fidgeting as he bounced his leg.
“The doctor said she’s going to be fine, relax a little,” Morgan comforted with a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder.
The youngest glanced up at his friend before his eyes flickered back over to her. “I can’t relax. Not until she wakes up. Not until I know she’s okay.”
From the moment the doctor had told them it was okay to wait with her in her room, Spencer had been by her side. The time he had spent in the waiting room before was agonising and he had felt relief when the doctor told them she just needed time to recover. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her, not when he had been through something similar before. Kidnapped, tortured, and drugged.
He was thankful this unsub had seemed to skip the torture but he could still sympathise with how she was feeling. She had been taken from her own home. He could only imagine how scared she must have been.
When she finally began to stir and her eyes finally fluttered awake, he was on his feet again. “Y/n? How are you feeling?”
Morgan chuckled, “Come on kid, give her a second to wake up before you jump her with questions.”
Spencer was already holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of it as he smiled.
“Spence?”
He nodded as she slowly came to, squeezing her hand a little just to make sure she knew he was really there — that she was safe now.
“I’ll go let the others know she’s awake,” Morgan excused himself, leaving the two of them to talk alone.
“What… What happened?”
He gulped and stuttered slightly as he answered, “Y-you were kidnapped.”
She closed her eyes again and nodded, recalling the events that had transpired as well as she could remember them. “You saved me. Thank you.”
With a small smile, he nodded.
It was quiet for a moment and all she could focus on was the warmth of his hand. Soon, he too realised he was still holding her hand and quickly let go as he cleared his throat to speak.
“So, how are you feeling?” he repeated his earlier words, eager to hear how she was holding up.
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? Like shit. My head is killing and I think I might still be a little high.”
Spencer was now the one laughing at her remark, thankful that she was well enough to make light of the situation. “Yeah, that’s probably the painkillers the doctor gave you. Must be a pretty bad concussion if your head is still hurting.”
“Yeah, well it could have been a lot worse…”
The mood soured again with her words as the two of them were reminded of just how badly things could have gone had Reid not found her when he did.
“I knew it was going to be okay, you know. When I saw you I just… I knew I was safe.”
Though she smiled, it was her eyes that conveyed all he needed to know. Everything she’d never spoken aloud, everything she wanted to say but could never bring herself to do so. It was the first time he’d truly felt it, the way she felt for him. The first time he’d realised that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.
A test of faith had brought them together, breaking the boundary between them.
Spencer stepped closer again, leaning towards her as he took her hand in his again. With his other, he brushed her hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin as time froze still.
Their quiet moment together would soon be broken when the door opened and the rest of the team flooded in to see how she was but, for just one moment, they were the only two people in the world.
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Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse
Word Count: 4869
A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!
Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace.
“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.
You nodded.
“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.
“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.
He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”
“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”
“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully.
Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.
“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.
“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.
Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”
“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”
Sam looked disappointed.
“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”
“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed.
“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.
“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.
“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “
That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”
“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”
“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.
***
The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house.
“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.
“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.
“Great,” you mumbled.
“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.
“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.
A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”
“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”
“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being.
They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.
In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service.
Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.
Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.
“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.”
“I saw you inside,” she told them.
“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”
Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”
You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.
“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”
Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.
“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”
Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”
“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”
“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”
***
Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.
“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.
“I do,” he nodded.
“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him.
“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.
“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.
You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”
He rolled his eyes at you.
“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”
“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”
Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.”
“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”
“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.
“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”
“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”
You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours.
“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “
“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.”
You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”
“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in.
“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.
The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”
“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.
“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing.
“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?”
“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”
“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.
“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked.
You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.
“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it.
The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff.
‘Dammit.’
“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”
“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him.
You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.
“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”
You three obeyed.
“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”
“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam.
The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.
“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”
“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”
“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”
You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.
“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”
“None taken.”
“But what about the shotguns?”
“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”
“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.
“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”
“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.
Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.
You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.
Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house.
“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”
“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested.
You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor.
While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.
“Need help?” you smirked.
“No,” he grumbled.
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.
“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.
“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”
“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.
You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.
Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.
“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”
“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.
“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you.
You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”
Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook.
You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”
“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.
Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.
“Super,” the older brother muttered.
“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.
“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.
***
You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.
The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.
“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.
Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”
“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”
Sam nodded. You chortled.
“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?”
“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper.
“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.
Your eyebrows knitted together.
“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”
“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.
“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”
“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”
“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.
“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”
“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.
“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.
“What about you?”
Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.”
“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him.
He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”
***
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.
He shot you a look.
“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”
“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”
“What, at pool?”
He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”
“You’re on, pretty boy.”
He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”
“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.
You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”
You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”
You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly.
“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.
“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully.
He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.
You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it.
“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones.
“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.
Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”
“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”
You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted.
“Um, weird question,” you started.
He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk.
“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”
And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.
“Dean?”
“Hm.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N).”
***
Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.
“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun.
“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”
About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats.
The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.
“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.
“Let them through.”
“Thanks.”
You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.
“You okay?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” sighed Sam.
“What the hell happened?”
“Hook Man.”
You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”
“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.
“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”
“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”
“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.
“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.
“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”
Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”
“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”
“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”
“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”
“We must’ve missed something,” you said.
“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”
“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.
Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”
“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.
“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.
“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”
“So if we find the hook—”
The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”
“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him.
He said nothing.
“Exactly,” you giggled.
***
Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “
“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.
“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”
“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.
“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”
Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”
Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”
“Goddammit,” you grumbled.
Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.
“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”
“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.
“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.
“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.
“Dean and I will take the church, then.”
“We will?” the older brother asked.
“Yup.”
You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.
You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room.
“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.
“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said.
Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.
“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.
You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver.
“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.
Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”
You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”
“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”
“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”
“I have,” you said. “My mom.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “
“Catholic?”
“Oh, very.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.
“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”
Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.
“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition.
Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”
His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.
“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.
“So did I,” the older brother answered.
“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.
“Well, maybe we missed something!”
You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”
“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.
“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.
“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”
“Is it silver?!”
“Yes!”
Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.
You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.
You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing.
You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up.
“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”
“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”
“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.
“Yes, sir.”
“Listen. You and those two boys—”
Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”
You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car.
“We could stay,” Dean suggested.
You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernaturals series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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Unexpected Trip
Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.
Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.
You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.
Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.
"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."
As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."
You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."
As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.
"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.
Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.
Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.
The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.
"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.
"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.
Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.
Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.
Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.
Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.
You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.
5 Years Ago
You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.
Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.
It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.
Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"
"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.
"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.
"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.
As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."
You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.
With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."
He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.
"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.
You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.
After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.
"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.
You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.
"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.
Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."
"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.
Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.
You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.
Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.
"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.
"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"
Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"
Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.
Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.
There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.
Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.
You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.
The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.
"KYAAA!"
Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.
"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.
Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.
You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.
"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.
With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.
Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.
The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.
You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.
Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.
As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.
"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.
Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."
"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.
You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."
Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated
Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.
You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"
"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."
As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.
"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.
He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."
And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.
🚗
After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.
Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.
As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.
"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."
The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."
The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."
You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."
The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."
With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.
"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.
You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.
Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.
As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.
🚗
One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.
Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.
"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."
You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."
Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."
"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."
Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."
Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.
That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.
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The Loneliest | Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen
Pairing: Ex!Charles Leclerc/ Max Verstappen x Reader
Prompt: Might have to make this a series...based off the song 'The Loneliest' by Maneskin. Where you are fed up in your current relationship and Charles has to watch as you find somebody else and see how much happier he makes you.
Warnings: None?
Word Count: 4.5k
Song: The Loneliest by Maneskin
‘You'll be the saddest part of me
A part of me that will never be mine It's obvious
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
“Charles, I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t do this anymore,” I say, gesturing to us. “I can’t lie to you anymore and pretend everything's fine! This…it's just not working for me anymore. I can’t do it,” I admit
“Mon amour, don’t- what are you trying to say? That I’m not here enough for you? Believe me, I’m trying! I get the first flight home after every race, we live in Maranello so I can come home to you each night. What more could you possibly want from me?!” He asks, shocked at your words and surprised that you were even having this argument…He thought you two were solid?
“I feel stuck Charles! I don’t have any friends here and everywhere I turn I have to smile and play nice because I’m your girlfriend. Nobody knows me! Fuck, I don’t even know me anymore!” You reply, managing to work yourself up even more, you didn’t even know you felt like this…when you started, you just couldn’t stop.
“So what? So where do we go from here?” He asks, clearly done with arguing, you assumed that you would kiss and make up like you usually did.
“I’ve got a taxi coming in an hour to take me to the airport, I boxed up all of my stuff and put it in the spare room. There is a courier coming to pick it up on Tuesday…” You admit to him, His jaw drops slightly at how you had planned everything.
“So you’re just leaving?” He asks bluntly.
“Yes, I need space, I need time, I just-,” You start to say, relief finally hitting you that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. “I love you, Charles…but not enough to sacrifice myself,” You tell him honestly.
“This is it then? Two-and-a-half years, just gone like that?” He asks, clicking his fingers when he says ‘like that’. When He says that you can’t even look him in the eyes. “Ok…well I don’t want to be here to watch you leave…” He adds, picking his car keys up and shoving his phone and wallet into his pockets. “I love you, more than you could ever know,” He says before closing the door behind him.
‘You're still the oxygen I breathe
I see your face when I close my eyes; It's torturous
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
YourInstagram
Liked by YourBestFriend and 12,837 others
YourInstagram Home never felt so damn good
YourBestfriend Best surprise ever!!!
---- YourInstagram 🫶
YourMum Amazing pictures, good to finally see you at home x
F1WAGs STUNNING!!
---- FerrariFan1 Wish I was her!
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Charles only briefly looked at the photos, not bothering to like them and leave a sweet comment like he usually would but instead clicking on her profile and letting his thumb hover over the ‘Unfollow’ button. He decided against it, knowing the fans would go crazy if he did. He just switched his phone off and dropped it beside him.
‘There's a few lines that I have wrote
In case of death, that's what I want, that's what I want’
'Amour
Cherie
Y/N
You,
We have been apart for nearly two months, that will be the longest we’ve ever been apart. Ironic that... seeing that is the reason you chose to end it. People are starting to ask questions about where you are, why we are seen together anymore and I don’t know what to tell them. You said you needed time and space? I've given you time and space, so where does that leave us?
Are you done? Because I know I’m not, I love you. And if there were any way to prove to you, my love, how much I love you then I would go to the ends of the earth to do so. Sometimes I just try to tell myself that you’re at home waiting for me, and when I get home it all comes crashing down again. I see that you are happy, your social media taunts me with what I don’t believe to be true. Nobody walks away from a two-and-a-half-year relationship as happy as you appear to be…'
Charles puts his pen down and folds up the letter, shoving it into his drawer, He thought writing it would be cathartic but instead all it's done is make him angry, and sad, and ultimately confused. The courier for your stuff came weeks ago and all he got was a quick ‘thanks’ in a text message as a response. He had tried reaching out, just to see where he stood but you didn’t reply; so He tried your best friend, she just told him ‘It’s best if you leave her alone, it's over Charles,’ So at that, he accepted it. When people asked, He said it wasn’t working for you both so you decided to stop seeing each other. Amicably. Of course.
‘So don't be sad when I'll be gone’
YourInstagram
Liked by WAGsF1 and 20,188 others
YourInstagram Amsterdam you have my 🧡
YourFriend I’m sorry but YourBestFriend Is going crazy that you went to Amsterdam without her 🤷♀️
---- YourBestFriend SHE WENT TO AMSTERDAM WITHOUT TELLING ME!!!!!
----YourFriend See…Crazy
----YourInstagram It was a surprise…I didn’t even know I was going 😂
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To say that Charles was surprised…well that would be an understatement. He was completely shocked. He didn’t think you’d move on so quickly, ok fine, it had been four months but still. He wouldn’t have even thought about looking at another girl; everybody copes in their own way he supposes. He had to remind himself that he didn't see both sides to your relationship...He didn't see how much you were hurting, maybe that was why it was easier for you to move on?
‘There's just one thing I hope you know, I loved you so’
'Cause I don't even care about the time I've got left here
The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it
with you, with you, nobody else here
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest.’
YourInstagram
Liked by MaxVerstappen1 and 62,198 others
YourInstagram Summers in Monaco >>>
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Despite not having spoken for nearly eight months, you continued surprising Him. To be honest, Charles was more confused than anything else…all the reasons you gave for breaking up would be problems you would face with Max. The dedication to the sport, the time away from home…what did He have that Charles didn’t?
‘You'll be the saddest part of me
A part of me that will never be mine; It's obvious
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest.’
WAGsF1
Liked by YourInstagram and 23,918 others
WAGsF1 Guess who’s back!
YourInstagram was spotted in the Monaco paddock this weekend on the arm of two-time world champion Max Verstappen.
MV1Fan Definite upgrade!
FerrariFriends Anyone got eyes on Charles?
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“You don’t have to see him; you can just stay in the hospitality all day; I’ll come and get you to bring you to the garage ready for quali if you want,” Max assures you as you walk into the paddock together, it had been a while since you’d had paddock passes hanging around your neck. When you had been before, an assistant about ten paces ahead would usually scan you in. You didn’t mind; you felt less on show this way, even though the guy on your arm was a double-world champion.
A few people turned to look as you walked towards the Redbull hospitality, most of those being Ferrari employees that would instantly recognise you. Max was pulled aside by a group of fans wanting autographs and photos as you got closer, so you took his bag and phone, making it easier for him to interact with them as you stood off to the side.
It felt like an ambush; not even seconds after Max left your side, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “Charles, I know it's you,” You say, turning to look at him.
“H-how are you?” He asks, clearly unsure of what to say.
“I’m really good, never been better, to be honest,” You tell him, and he smiles.
“Good to hear…I didn’t know you and Max were friends,” He says; you could see it coming.
“We weren’t…we bumped into each other in London and got to talking before I knew it. He was taking me to Amsterdam,” You say with a laugh.
“Schat? Oh, Hey Charles, how's it going?” Max asks, coming to stand back next to you, taking the bag slung over your shoulder and putting it onto his back.
“Not bad, just saying Hi,” He says as his P.R. agent comes rushing over.
“There you are! You were meant to be in filming ten minutes ago,” She tells him, and he rolls his eyes before plastering a fake smile across his face and following her back to the Ferrari hospitality. Charles always used to do that when you attended races; He would always seek you out if He wanted to get out of media duties.
“You ok, schat?” He asks as you watch Charles walk away.
“All good,” You said, looking over at him; he clearly didn’t believe you. “I promise,” You add, kissing his cheek.
‘You're still the oxygen I breathe
I see your face when I close my eyes’
‘It's torturous’
“-That sounds incredible; yes, I want the job!” I say excitedly as Max sits in front of me, on the edge of his seat, and I just nod to him. I quickly thank the interviewer again before ending the call. “I got the job!” I squeal as Max wraps his arms around me.
“You got the job!” He replies, equally as excited. “You know what this means?” He asks, and I grin. “Move in with me. You can travel with me, come to all the races. We could get our own place in Monaco; I know mine is a little small for two people,” He quickly says; you had spoken about all of this before, so He knew your answer.
“Yes, yes, yes!” You agree, and he swiftly lifts you off the floor, spinning you around. Your job had always been an issue; you felt chained to a desk, but now, you were a travel journalist. It was quite literally your job to travel, and with Max going to over 20 different countries in a year at least, it couldn't get any better. You had promised Max you would be in Spain, but it had all been uncertain after that.
When you arrived in Spain, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulder; you had no mountains of work to do when you got home; or a pissed-off boss because she couldn’t call your phone. All you had to do was enjoy yourself and cheer on your boyfriend. Then came Canada, and it was the same situation; you had quit your old job a few days prior and didn’t start the new one for a few months. Max had promised that He didn’t mind that you weren’t working at the moment, and as you had temporarily moved into his apartment, you had no significant bills to pay.
You slowly got to know people at Redbull, quickly becoming friends with Geri, Carola, and the rest of Max’s team. People at Ferrari still said Hi if you walked past them, but you were surprisingly able to stay out of their way, wanting to leave that in the past. The one person you probably wanted to avoid the most was the one you were struggling to. He seemed to be just around every corner or in your peripheral vision. Perhaps you were just seeing his face on every dark-haired guy with a Ferrari shirt, but with time, you learnt to spot the blue rather than the red.
‘Tonight is gonna be the loneliest
I'm sorry but I gotta go’
“So I’m just about to start a new job; the other one wasn’t working for me. It means I’m working remotely so I can attend the races properly,” You tell them as you stand in the middle of the surprisingly quiet paddock.
“What’s the job?” Pierre asks.
“Travel journalism,” You say with a smile.
“That sounds perfect!” He replies.
“It really is, and now I’m not physically tied to London. I’m moving to Monaco,” You tell them, and you think you can see Charles having to replay what you said in his head.
“Getting your own place?” Pierre asks.
“No…I-um,” I start to say before I’m interrupted.
“I thought you’d gotten lost, Schat,” Max says, wrapping his arm around you.
“What? From the garage to the hospitality? I think I’m fine,” You joke as you kiss the side of his head.
“We were just talking about how you’re moving to Monaco,” Pierre said, trying to continue the conversation.
“We’re both really excited; we agreed Max’s place was a little small, so we are looking for a new apartment together,” You say, looking up at the broad smile across his face.
“We’ll catch up again, but I’ve got to go…sorry,” Charles says abruptly before leaving.
“He is happy for you both…He just doesn’t know how to be around you guys, especially after the way you left him,” Pierre says, trying to excuse Charles’ behaviour.
“Pierre? Seriously? We’ve been together for nearly six months, and besides, there are two people in a relationship…it’s not all my fault,” I say defensively, and Max runs his hand over my shoulder, attempting to calm me.
“I know, that came out wrong…” He answers
‘If you'll ever miss me give this song another go’
‘...and now you’re in the paddock all the time. It feels like you're haunting me. You are always there, at work, in my dreams; now you’ll be in Monaco. I can’t escape you; everywhere I turn, there you are or something that reminds me of you. Are you trying to punish me? Is that what this is? You have to show me what I lost. I am fully aware of what I lost!
Every minute of every day, I am reminded of what I lost, who I lost. And I am so happy that you have found someone who can make you as happy as I thought I did. Was it ever me? Was I the issue? If you had your new job when you were mine, would we have argued about what we did? Would we have argued about the distance if you could be there? Would we have found some other reason to disagree?
It’s been nearly a year since you walked out, and I’m still no closer to closure. You were my everything; I was sure you were the one for me. I wanted to buy a house with you, one we could grow our family in; I wanted to make you Mrs Leclerc, and then I wanted to make you a Mother. I wonder if He knows how much you yearn for a family. I remember the lazy Sunday mornings we would spend together discussing the future and what that meant for us…’
‘And I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better
And all the crazy little things that we did together, In the end, in the end, it doesn't matter
If tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
One thing Charles didn’t anticipate missing was the little things. From the drives through Monaco, hand resting on your thigh as you spoke about your day to the way you sang your favourite songs as you cooked. These little things that now drove him crazy to think about, he took those for granted. Often finding them annoying, Charles might have had a stressful day at work, and all he wanted was a bit of peace, and you were talking his ear off.
What he would give to have you like that again.
He assumed Max was probably the same. Oh, how wrong he was. Max loved to listen to you talk, your voice soothing him after a bad day; your awful singing always managed to bring a smile to his face as he walked in the front door.
Charles was looking forward to the end of the season; Christmas was when all the drivers went home. Monaco was his again; he was the only one there. You and Max had quickly stopped before flying straight to the U.K. for the first few weeks off. Monaco was quiet at Christmas; there were very few tourists, meaning He could walk the streets interrupted. This is the Monaco from his childhood, the one He fell in love with.
Christmas without you was very different; there were no big surprises, drunken confessions of love, or hastily hung mistletoe. It was quiet; his family had come to terms with the fact you weren't around anymore.
Your Christmas was vastly different; waking up in your childhood bed next to Max was amazing; it all began to feel real and good. This is where you are supposed to be. Max slipped right into your family, and they took him in as their own. Something Max would later say how much he appreciated; coming from a semi-broken family, the love and kindness meant the world to him.
‘You'll be the saddest part of me
A part of me that will never be mine; It's obvious
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
MaxVerstappen1
Liked by YourInstagram and 1,029,123 others
MaxVerstappen1 Schat, by the time you are reading this, I’m praying you will have said yes.
You are my everything; I cannot even begin to try to tell you how much you mean to me. I never believed the stories, my Mamma would tell me about finding my one true love…well, mamma, I did it. I found her.
I found her in your favourite city, doing your favourite thing, and she is perfect.
We have only properly known each other just over a year, but it feels like an eternity and that’s how long I want to spend with her.
So Schat, if you didn’t say yes…well, then I’m sure I look like a right fool now but this is me, bearing my heart and soul to you.
The simplest words to describe it are ‘I love you' so?
Will you marry me?
YourInstagram …I said yes.
YourBestFriend Dibs on maid of honour
---- LandoNorris Only if I can be the flowergirl!
F1 Time for a F1 Royal wedding!
RedBullRacing Congrats future Mr & Mrs Verstappen
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‘You're still the oxygen I breathe
I see your face when I close my eyes; It's torturous
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
‘And now I have to watch as He proposes to you, eventually marries you. I should be him, that should be me. It should be me you are walking down the aisle towards.
There’s this beautiful church in Monaco that I always pictured us getting married it, it's the same one my maman and papa got married in when they were younger; I dream about it some nights…usually after seeing you in the paddock or seeing pictures of you on social media.
I dream about the long white wedding dress with the cathedral length veil, the bouquet of flowers pressed against your stomach as your papa walked you towards me, towards our future. Then we’d exchange our vows, our promises of eternity together, through sickness and health, till death do us part. That’s what we’d promise each other.
The reception afterwards would be the best night of our lives; Pierre would give a speech, no doubt telling the story of how we met and how He witnessed our love blossom into what it was. Now I don’t know whether you’ll ever read this, but I want you to know, you have to know that you were my future. I wanted everything with you…and I struggle to see how I wasn’t enough for you. He is me in different colours…
‘You'll be the saddest part of me
A part of me that will never be mine
It's obvious’
YourInstagram and MaxVerstappen1
Liked by YourMum and 1,340,193 others
YourInstagram Always expect the unexpected
Baby Verstappen due in November
Mummy and Daddy would like it to be known that the wedding has been postponed until 2027 so that we can celebrate our love as a family.
Max & You x
DanielRicciardo Congrats guys, this baby won’t know what's hit them
----MaxVerstappen1 Please don’t hit our child…
-------DanielRicciardo I meant with love…
YourBestfriend I have a confession…
—-PierreGasly #BumpBuddies…
—-----YourInstagram Gasly…what did you do?
—---------YourBestfriend Me?
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Charles guessed he did know that about you...
‘Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
‘...but that is it. Isn’t it? You’re having a baby. I’m not going to sit here and tell you how it should be me. You know that already. This is my sign to move on; you’re going to be starting a family with Max, raising some kids, the white picket fences…all that shit. I wanted that, and now…it disgusts me. How fake it all seems, don’t you see it? I am going to have to stand on the sideline and smile, I have to be happy for you, after all you do deserve happiness. I couldn’t bear to see you hounded in the media over our relationship…or lack thereof.
So I guess I’ll have to move on, you were one chapter of my life in which the book is being forced closed, you took the pen and drew lines through the last part before scribbling in the margins ‘THE END’
It’s crazy to think by the time your son or daughter is born you will have been with him nearly as long as you were with me, it feels so much longer than that. It feels like decades since I last woke up next to you…
‘You'll be the saddest part of me
A part of me that will never be mine; It's obvious
Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
“Char?” She asked, trying to snap him out of his daydream. She had noticed him doing it a lot recently.
“Mhmm?” He hums, eyes fixing back onto her. Her slightly darker hair, longer as it fell way past her shoulders. Your’s sat perfectly on your shoulders, bouncing effortlessly as you moved.
“What have I got to do to keep your attention? I just had a whole conversation with myself,” She says to him. ‘Be her’ was what he wanted to say but He knew she would just up and leave. Just like you did. Like they all did.
“You have my attention Celine,” He says bluntly, both of them knowing he was lying.
“Ok, well as I was saying…” She started to say before Charles zoned out again, she decided to ignore it this time and just pretend he was listening, that's what she usually did. She was on a date with Charles Leclerc after all…this had to go well.
Charles couldn’t see her, all he saw was how she was not you. She didn’t smile the way you did, the way he loved, with dimples growing as your smile widened. She didn’t blush when He complimented her, like He was the first guy in the world to notice her beauty.
She just wasn’t you.
‘You're still the oxygen I breathe
I see your face when I close my eyes
It's torturous’
YourInstagram and MaxVerstappen1
Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 3,019,394 others
YourInstagram After three years and one beautiful baby girl later…I can finally call myself ‘Mrs Verstappen’
Truly the happiest day of my life and so incredibly thankful that we were able to share it with our closest friends and family, the day would not have been the same without you.
Fleur is very much looking forward to staying with her Grandma Sophie whilst Max and I enjoy some time to ourselves.
Mr and Mrs Verstappen x
DanielRicciardo best best man ever!!!!!!!!
—- LandoNorris Fleur took my spot as flower girl…groomsman was ok, I guess
—-----YourBestfriend And didn’t she look adorable?.
F1 Royal wedding? Check!
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Charles watched as his love slipped through his fingers. “Do you Max Emilian Verstappen take Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The officiant asked, and Charles silently begged him to say no, to say it was all a mistake.
“I do,”
Charles winced at those words.
“-and do you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N take Max Emilian Verstappen to be your lawfully wedded husband?” She asked. Charles was holding his breath, time started to slow down…
“I do,”
A silent tear rolled down his face.
‘Tonight is gonna be the loneliest’
‘Its strange to think I’ve been writing this letter for three years, I reread the words and remember all the emotions attached to them, I can remember what triggered all those feelings, where in the world I was at that point. And now, I guess it will end. I had originally intended to give you this letter, as one last ‘I love you’ but I now know that isn’t fair. On you, on Max, or on Fleur.
So as I conclude my letter to nobody, I think about watching you drive away tonight. Fleur in your mothers arms as you set off for your honeymoon. Part of me wished I had brought a date, to distract me from you. But I’m glad I didn’t. I think this was the closure I needed, I needed to know you were his…and not mine anymore…not that I think you were ever mine to begin with. Tonight will be the loneliest, as I lay here thinking about you, and what it could have been.
Charles.
P.s I will always love you.'
#f1#f1 imagine#pierre gasly#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#pierre gasly x reader#max verstappen imagine#formula1#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#Spotify
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Could you do a sequel to the lucy x courier ask ( x ) where lucy after a while finds out the courier got shot and has forgotten everything? And she tries to remind them of things before they were shot?
If not that's alright, thanks for reading this!
Lucy cradles Y/N’s face…
Lucy: baby I’m here.
Y/N: who?
Lucy: you don’t remember me?
Lucy begins to tear up…
Y/N gently cups her hands…
Y/N: I-i can’t remember much but I promise I won’t leave your side
Lucy: and I won’t leave yours
#fallout#fallout new vegas#fallout show#fallout series#fallout tv series#fallout tv show#lucy maclean#lucy maclean x reader#ella purnell#courier#vault dweller#bethesda#amazon#amazon prime#pip boy#nuka cola
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The Sticks
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: 2015
Summary: Wanda needs a favor
A/N: I've been reading too many books about the mafia
Warnings: angst, fluff, minimal violence
You were surprised when Wanda called you only an hour after she left for work. You had been under the impression that she would be too busy to think, let alone take the time to reach out. She’d been working on something big recently, and despite not knowing details, you’d been able to see how it was taking a toll on Wanda.
Whenever she got the chance to lie down for more than a few minutes, she was hardly sleeping. She was drinking more, and not just caffeine either. You were certain that if whatever she was working on didn’t wrap up soon, there would be long term consequences.
You weren’t working because it was Sunday, so when your phone rings only a few minutes after you sit down in front of the television with Boone curled up near your feet, you frown. You stretch over your dog to grab the device and your eyes widen when you see your wife calling. You don’t hesitate to answer.
“Wanda? What’s up?”
You listen carefully as Wanda tells you why she’s calling. Something’s gone wrong and when you can hear the frustration in her voice, you can’t help but wonder who’s going to be fired, or worse, for this.
“I have an extra copy in the large safe. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t an emergency.”
You know for a fact that this is the truth. Wanda’s never asked you to help her with her work before. Even if it was something as insignificant as fetching some documents and delivering them to her, she prefers to have you as far away from her job as possible. You frown at the idea of having to do something like this, but Wanda seems to hear your reluctance through the phone.
“I have someone coming to pick you up, and then someone else will bring the folder to me.”
You wonder why your presence is even necessary. Why can’t you just give the driver the papers and have them deliver them to Wanda? You can’t help but ask this and you hear Wanda begin to sigh before she catches herself. She knows that she’s asking a huge favor and that she needs to be patient. She also needs to convince you that you won’t have to do anything other than play courier.
“No one can see what’s in there. I trust you, Y/n.”
Any hope you had of denying Wanda disappears with her confession and you hold back a sigh as you stand up and roll your shoulders.
“Okay, I need to change, but then I’ll be ready.”
You look down at your dog as you step over him to head to the stairs. Wanda’s thanking you and promising that your ride will be there soon before she hangs up to leave you both to fret about what you’ve just agreed to do. You aren’t surprised that Boone follows you upstairs as you stare at the closet and try to figure out what to wear. You’re not getting out of the car, but you figure you need to look a little more put together than you currently do. Even if it’s just for your driver’s sake.
You throw on a long sleeve shirt and a jacket since it’s fairly cold out. You’re zipping up your jeans when you hear Boone run back downstairs. You figure your ride is here, and you hurry to the spare bedroom that has the ‘large safe’ where you’re hoping you’ll be able to find this supposed red file folder easily.
You hear Boone bark downstairs and you curse as you open the closet and push aside the clothes that hang in front of you. You search for the back wall, and carefully push it to the side to reveal the safe room that Wanda had put in when you were out of town one weekend. She tries to never mention that you have one of these at home because she’s paranoid and doesn’t want anyone to go looking for it. As soon as she said ‘large safe’, you knew what she was referring to. You have one safe in the bedroom and then another on the third floor that you don’t use at all. You’re not even sure if you know the codes, but you honestly don’t mind.
You search your memory for the code to open the room, and get it wrong once before you hear the heavy door unlock. You step back out of habit before the door opens wide enough for you to sneak through. You look around for a moment before you figure out where Wanda keeps some of her secrets. You ignore the many weapons that are at least behind another lock before you set your sights on the desk tucked away in the corner. You’re grateful that the folder is exactly where Wanda said it would be, and you quickly pick it up before heading back toward the door. This room always gives you the creeps, and the less time you spend in it the better.
When you arrive downstairs, you find your dog exactly where you expected him to be. He’s standing at the front door staring out the window at the black SUV that’s waiting in the drive way. You take a deep breath before reaching out for him.
“Do you want to go for a ride, Boone?”
His bark in response is enough to make you smile, and you feel some of your nerves melt away.
Wanda’s stalled for as long as she can. She could only buy so much time by claiming that they’d run over a nail and blew out a tire. It’s not like there were a lot of delays out in the middle of nowhere.
She arrived about half an hour after calling you, and she’s just hoping that she can steer the meeting away from the missing information until you get here. She’s furious that the original courier decided to take another job first and threaten to put her nearly 2 hours behind. She won’t be hiring them again, and as soon as she makes sure her package is secure, she’ll be sending someone to deliver their notice. She hasn’t decided how violent that would be yet.
Steve and Bucky are already here since they helped coordinate the location as well as security for today’s meeting. Everyone else was either working on different deals, or here in a different capacity, so you really were her only hope. She hated to ask favors like this of you, and she knew that she was going to have to make this up to you. She doubted you wanted to spend your Sunday driving to the sticks.
You feel ridiculous sitting in the middle seat in the back with Boone on one side of you, and the folder sitting in a seat of its own. You had ignored the absurd impulse to buckle it in beside you, and merely set it down and tried to ignore it. You weren’t going to look in it if you could help it, but you had to make sure that it didn’t disappear from your sight.
You weren’t surprised that your driver, a man of few words, was driving a little over the speed limit to get to wherever Wanda was. She really must be on a deadline. You try not to think about this too much as you focus your energy on petting your dog whose head is in your lap. You’re glad that you decided to bring him. Even if you wouldn’t be doing anything particularly intimidating, it was nice to have your dog by your side.
When you arrive almost an hour later, Wanda sees those standing guard shift and their gazes become pensive. She speaks up before anyone has a chance to get too nervous.
“Perfect timing. I believe the last bit of convincing you’ll need has arrived.”
It’s impossible for you to not be intimidated by the sight of three armed guards standing outside a rather small, unassuming building. You hold your breath as one approaches the car, and you reach out to scratch Boone when he starts to growl.
“It’s okay, bud.”
You hope this is the case as your driver lowers the window and you see a pair of dark eyes flit to you and then back to the driver.
“I assume you’re the delivery driver?”
When the man in the front seat nods, the guard offers a wide smile that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up.
“Great, well let’s get going.”
When the driver starts to unbuckle his seatbelt the guard frowns and shakes his head before looking back at you. You immediately realize what he’s about to say.
“No, no. Not you. Her. You can bring your mutt.”
The driver’s protests are ignored, and you only have a few seconds before someone’s opening the back door. You take a deep breath and hold up your hand when Boone tries to get past you. You tell him to calm down before you get unbuckled and grab the folder that better be worth at least a few million before you step out into the light.
Boone’s right behind you, and you’re glad that he stays close to you as the man in front of you looks at you curiously. You tighten your hold on the folder as he smiles at you, and you’re wishing that you’d packed Boone’s harness with at least one weapon.
“Let’s not keep the bosses waiting any longer.”
You only nod in response before following his lead. You sincerely hope you’re not being tricked.
The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to the tall brunette who’d left to greet their visitor. Wanda stiffens, and all eyes fall on you and your dog when you walk further into the room, a red folder held in a death grip.
Wanda’s about to stand up and rush over to you when the man across from her smiles widely and waves you over. Steve and Bucky barely resist the urge to draw their weapons, and move toward you when they see how nervous you are.
“Bring that over here, doll.”
You hide your irritation well, but everyone in the room that knows you, sees the way your lips twitch from the conscious effort to keep the grimace off your face. Nevertheless, you walk toward the table where your wife is sitting with a heavyset man who’s wearing an obnoxious amount of gold.
You set the folder down in front of your wife without a word, and she just nods at you before shooting you an apologetic look. You just turn to leave and you miss whatever Wanda says next. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you just head straight for the exit as fast as you can without looking suspicious or too scared.
You are almost there when you feel someone move behind you and put a hand on your waist. It’s honestly lower than that, and you stiffen before your neutral expression turns to one of disgust.
“-does that sound?”
“Ow, fuck!”
Once again, all eyes are on you as you grab the offending hand and yank it toward you. This causes the man to stumble, but he’s reeling backwards only moments later when your fist collides with his nose. You ignore the pain in your hand and focus on the satisfying crunch and the spurt of blood that accompanies the pained curse.
You watch as the blonde stumbles back and clutches his nose while shooting you a watery glare. You don’t hear Boone growling, or anything else until a loud laugh startles you enough that you return to your senses. You turn to see that Wanda’s glaring at the injured blonde, but your focus quickly shifts to the person who’s laughing at you. Your face flushes until you realize who he’s really laughing at, and you have to stop yourself from smiling smugly as you finally make your exit.
“Alright. You’ve convinced me, Mrs. Maximoff. Where do I sign?”
Masterlist
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x reader#silver springs#silver springs drabble#mob au#don't be surprised if more like this come your way
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Like I Want You
Summary: Jihoon has one job on your wedding day, but he’s in denial and at the end of it all, he is simply a man.
▸ Pairing: Woozi x AFAB!reader
▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ (MINORS DNI) / angst, smut, pwp / ex2l
If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age, you will be blocked upon interacting with this post.
▸ Warnings: infidelity, unprotected sex, creampie
▸ Word Count: 2.2k
▸ A/N: I’ve had this little idea from the moment I heard Giveon’s song by the same name ages ago, so it feels great to finally get it out. Big FAT thank yous and kisses to @wooahaeproductions for beta-ing and @shuadotcom for banner-ing!!!
Part 2(ish) with Seungcheol can be found here!: Imported
The gentle clack of Jihoon’s dress shoes echoes down the hallway of the grand hotel as he makes his way to your suite. Even though the sound is all around him, it feels tinny and distant compared to the whirlwind of thoughts occupying his mind. All he has to do is deliver your phone, be the courier to prolong his friend’s - your groom’s - viewing of you in your dress a while longer while he prepares separately with his groomsmen.
This is supposed to be different. The roles should be reversed. He should be waiting to see you walk down the aisle to him. It’s been years now, but Jihoon would wait a million more if it meant that you’d be back in his arms where you’re meant to be. Maybe if he waits another few minutes the impossible will happen and you’ll call the whole thing off, citing that you need to follow your heart. Maybe your heart would lead you to Jihoon so his could stop trailing behind each of your steps, always just out of reach.
Jihoon shakes his head, attempting to banish the thoughts as he stops in front of your door. Your time as a couple has long gone and all he has to do is deliver your stupid phone.
His entire body leadens as he knocks on your door lightly, knuckles rapping knock-kno-knock in the tune that the two of you have shared forever, even after the two of you agreed to be better as friends.
You answer the door, smiling warmly seeing Jihoon on the other side. He stops breathing.
No amount of daydreaming could have prepared him for this. Seeing you with your hair down, perfectly framing your face with a gorgeous veil flipped up is almost enough for him to die happy. Almost. Your dress suits you in every way, a perfect representation of your taste and elegance that Jihoon has always admired.
You look every bit like the one who got away and Jihoon swallows loudly. He thinks his eyes are going to mist before your voice pulls him back to the present.
“Earth to Hoonie?” you laugh gently, leaning further out of the doorway and into his personal space. “Is that my phone?”
“O-oh. Yeah, you left this in the other suite last night. Delivery.” He ignores the way your screen lights up to show you and your beau as he hands the device to you.
You hum appreciatively as you take it, stepping back to show off the rest of your conspicuously empty room. “Thank you. Why don’t come sit for a bit? I’m sure you could use a break from groomsman duty, right?”
Jihoon’s rooted to the spot as he inspects the view behind you. With the way the sun is coming in through the windows, it looks like you’re literally glowing. He tries not to linger too long on how you’re growing more ethereal by the second. “Where’s your party?”
You grab his arm and pull him in; it’s almost like he’s on skates the way he glides into the room under your touch. “I told the girls I’d be down in a bit. Just need some alone time before I go play hostess for the next 5 hours. Champagne? It was complimentary.”
You’ve already crossed the room to start pouring yourself a glass when Jihoon finally regains motor control in the foyer. He should be pouring a glass for you in your shared honeymoon suite tonight after your wedding.
“Jihoon.” This time your tone is much more serious.
He swears he wants to be with you here, now - not in his head. “Sorry, Y/N. I was somewhere else.”
You scoff and take a long sip from your flute. “Yeah, I can tell. What’s up?” Even as you sit at the table for two in the center of the room and pat the other chair for him to join you, Jihoon can’t shake the nagging thought that this should be your room with him.
Jihoon takes a seat beside you and sighs. “Hmm, just nerves, I guess.”
“You’re nervous? About what? Want to trade?”
Considerate as always, you’d poured a glass of champagne for Jihoon even when he hadn’t answered. He’s grateful for it now, taking a long swig himself. “Just don’t want to mess up your big day. It’s all about you, y’know?”
“Aw,” you coo, ribbing your friend in the side. Your smile at him is so beautiful that it hurts to look at. “You’re sweet, Hoonie. It’s about me and him, though. Besides, how could you possibly mess anything up? You just gotta stand up there and look nice.” There’s a pause as you gaze at Jihoon…approvingly. Maybe he imagined that? “You always look nice anyways.”
Determined in his quest to keep his feelings to himself, Jihoon opts to just repeat himself. “It’s all about you.”
Even though he can’t bring himself to keep looking at you, he’s resolute in his words. As far as his brain and heart were concerned, everything has always been about you. No amount of redirection, one-night-stands, or blind dates seemed to change that. For Jihoon, there’s only you.
There is only your long-gone warmth in the morning, your voice reverberating in his skull throughout the day, and the ghost of your touch at night.
Or the ghost of your touch right now.
Jihoon thinks he’s imagining it at first, the gentle press of your foot on his thigh. But when you graze a little too close to a bulge you used to be so familiar with, he knows it’s real. You’re studying him silently as you move, face neutral but eyes dark.
You don’t say anything else until your eyes lock with his. “Can it really be all about me for just a few minutes? I just need– Just a little before I–”
It shows just how desperate Jihoon is that a half second of want from you is all it takes for him to chug the rest of his champagne and bolt to close the distance between your lips. He doesn’t taste the alcohol, only the flavor of you that he wishes he could bottle forever.
Your hands are absolutely everywhere: carding through his locks, raking over his biceps through his suit jacket, jamming themselves between his ass cheeks and the chair in an attempt to squeeze handfuls of him into your palms. When you nearly choke him out trying to yank his tie loose, Jihoon finally grabs your wrists.
His heart is pounding miles a minute and he’s never been so sure of what he wanted, but– “Are you sure about this?”
Your voice is as sincere as the day you told Jihoon you loved him years ago. “I’m sure.”
It’s that (or maybe the suspiciously strong champagne) phrase that dissolves the last ounce of self control that Jihoon has. He lets go of your wrists in favor of standing you up and bending you over your chair. His pants and boxers are pooled at his thighs in record time, but it feels like it takes ages to finally bunch the train of your dress up above your ass, leaving your legs and thonged core exposed.
Jihoon wants to make this last an eternity. He could last an eternity to make you happy. But he knows that, sadly, your time is limited. There won’t be another chance after this and if the two of you are caught you’ll have problems much worse than a little timing.
Pressing his cock against your ass teasingly, Jihoon leans over your back to press his two fingers into your mouth. Even years after your last encounter, you’re rehearsed enough to know to soak them well, tongue gliding feverishly along the digits.
He’ll admit that he lets you salivate on him a little longer than is necessary, but he’s already sacrificing your relationship - shouldn’t he be allowed a tiny concession?
When he does pull away and look down at your folds, he’s ready to pass away again. Your pussy is as puffy as he remembers, your lips nearly devouring your thong as your essence glistens even through the fabric. What he would give to bend down and taste from the source, but you both know that Jihoon is incapable of pulling away from your cunt once he starts, so instead he purses his lips to add his own spit to the mix instead.
As his fingers move your drenched thong to the side and slide into you, you’re even tighter than he remembers. Your pussy is a vice both figuratively and literally, threatening to trap his fingers there forever. Just the thought of that pressure on his dick is dizzying, but your impatient whine reminds him that he doesn’t have to keep thinking about it - he can just take.
Jihoon presses in and up, curling experimentally until your whine reverses into a gasp and you push back against him eagerly. “T-there,” you breathe and he commits that sound, the feeling of you tightening around him to memory.
Who is he to deny you on your wedding day? He sets a steady, deep pace, working his fingers into your favorite spot again and again as you wraith beneath him. Your wetness is starting to drip past his fingers and down to his wrist, seemingly endless.
Your voice pitches higher, shaky as you try to warn him of your impending orgasm. Not that he needs it - your pussy greedily clamps down, almost pushing his fingers out with the pressure. A once distant memory of you falling apart is rewriting itself in the present and Jihoon quickly pulls out, just barely dragging you back from the edge of orgasm.
Before you can complain at the loss, however, Jihoon uses your own juices to lube himself up and slowly ease his cock into your waiting slit. Fireworks burst in his peripheral as he feels your grip again for the first time in an eternity and he has to stop moving completely when you envelope him fully to push back his own end.
Jihoon sears the image of you, wedding dress hiked up and fat cunt swallowing him whole into every crease in his brain. Even if you’re not marrying him, this view, miraculously, isn’t a dream. Any semblance of guilt is completely masked by the sight, melody, and scent of you you you.
Then he thrusts in earnest. It’s incredible how you welcome his cock in hungrily just like in days past, yet it almost feels like he doesn’t fit. The drawn out moan you let out beneath him assures otherwise, of course. So Jihoon bullies his way in again. And again. And again. He’s been addicted to you for years and this relapse is even better than the first time.
Something in the back of Jihoon’s mind says that you both need to be careful of sweating too much to avoid questions, but before he knows it, he’s pinballing you hard and fast between his dick and the back of the chair. He can feel the perspiration rolling down his temple, but it’s too late now. You’re so close, which means he’s so close.
Honestly, the total time Jihoon has spent battering your pussy today is embarrassing, but in this context it’s perfect. He’s spilling into you before he can even signal that he’s on the edge and apologizes by fucking you through it, oversensitivity be damned. His reward is an absolutely pornographic screech as you climax around him. The delicious, almost painful pressure of your gummy walls constrict around him, milking every ounce of love and cum from his balls. If you saw heaven when you came, then he saw the very beginnings of the universe.
Jihoon returns to his body when your manicured nails reach back to push him away from you gingerly so you can stand up straight. He stumbles back apologetically, immediately turning to look for tissues to clean you up.
Your hand encircles his wrist before there’s any success there. “Jihoon.” You’re almost too quiet to hear at all, but maybe that’s because Jihoon’s many many thoughts about this situation are roaring in full force again. “Thank you. I won’t forget this. I hope you don’t either.”
There’s no scenario where Jihoon could ever forget what it’s like to be with you – he’s tried. “Of course not, Y/N.” Given the way your orbs search his own with a glint of hopefulness, he doesn’t know what else to say that isn’t a confession of undying love, so he settles for a phrase that he’d surely kick himself for later. “Thank you for everything.”
As he pulls from your grasp to tuck himself back into his pants, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Your groom - his friend - is wondering where he is, no doubt. Your bridesmaids can’t be far behind.
Jihoon turns his attention back to you as you wad up a now-used napkin, grimacing as you pull your thong back up. If your mind is swirling the same way his is, you don’t show it. Your signature soft smile is back upon your lips as if the two of you haven’t committed something beautiful heinous. “Guess you should go, huh?”
No, Jihoon will never regret being with you. Not in the past and not today. If anything, he just needs to do something about the remorse that nags at him for spilling his seed into you, but not his heart.
#kvanity#lee jihoon#woozi#jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#svt x reader#jihoon smut#woozi smut#svt smut#seventeen x reader#jihoon fic#woozi fic
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Happily Evil After (The Courier/Evil Sivle)
Masterlist
Warning: swearing
Y/N- your name
Y/L/N - your last name
Y/U/N - your undercover name
Summary: After Maxwell's death you reach out to The Courier, informing him that you know of his son's location. You offer him your assistance but in exchange for something extremely valuable in return.
Note: In the movie JDM's character doesn't have any other name besides Courier or Evil Sivle, which of course we know neither is his real name. So, we're going to give the name him, John as the story goes on.
Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
You were parked further up the street as you watched The Man walk up the path through an overgrown lawn towards the boarded-up shell of a house. Having waited a few more minutes after he had entered the house, you finally exit out of the car and make your way towards the house as well.
You stood quietly as you watched The Man crouched down in front of a piano, silently staring at a toy marble he was holding in his hand.
“You’re a hard man to keep track of, COURIER. Or should I say… EVIL SIVLE-” you smirk at his quick reflexes as you were now staring down at the barrel of a gun that was pointed directly at you, whereas moments before he had just been crouched down in front of the piano.
“Who the hell are you?” The Courier breathes out heavily.
A broad smile then breaks across your face as you answer him, “I’m the one that’s going to give you what you’re now so desperately seeking for-”
“And what exactly is it you believe I’m seeking?” The Courier stared at you suspiciously.
Folding your arms behind your back and rocking back and fourth on the balls of your feet with a knowing smirk you respond, “well, your son of course-”
“My son?” The Courier then suddenly seems more interested in what you had to say as he lowered his gun a bit.
Nodding your head in confirmation, “Stanton’s his name, right? He’s a teenager now though, not the little boy you remember since the last time you saw him.”
“Yes.” The Courier sighs out somewhat disappointedly.
“It must have been a major shock finding out he was alive after believing him to be dead all these years-” you comment with a sympathetic smile.
“You don’t know the half of it, lady-” The Courier grumbles out.
“Oh, I know quite a bit. In fact, what I know you will find to be immensely valuable...” you confidently state.
“Who exactly are you lady?” The Courier questions, confused at what exactly was going on.
“Oh yes. Where are my manners..." you formally introduce yourself, "I’m FBI, Special Agent Y/L/N.”
“Your buddy, Lispy sent you after me?” he asks with a look of distain written across his face.
“That fool doesn’t even know about my involvement with this case” you chuckle in response.
“How do I even know you’re speaking the truth” The Courier challenges.
“Oh, yes!” you say going to reach into the inside pocket of your jacket. “Hey! Not so fast! Keep your hands where I can see them!” The Courier points the gun directly at my head.
“Whoa! Hold up there cowboy!” you quickly respond holding your hands up above your head, “I was just reaching inside my jacket pocket for my ID-”
The Courier steps closer towards you, gun still directed at your head, “keep your hands exactly where they are”, he then reaches into your jacket with one hand.
“Getting a little bit handsy there aren’t we?” you remark when the back of his hand brushes against your breast while he searches in your pocket.
Giving you a weird side look, he then finally pulls your ID out and holds it up beside your face.
“Ok, so you’re who you say you are." The Courier snaps at you, "Now what the hell do you want?”
“Out… I want out-” you firmly state. Giving you a confused look, The Courier responds, “out from what exactly?”
“I want out from all this bullshit" you replied. "The undercover job inside Maxwell’s organization, as well as the FBI and to do so I need Maxwell’s fortune”
“And why the hell do you believe I can help you with that?” The Courier looks at you even more suspicious than before.
“I’ll tell you everything you need to know Evil, but I think the wises thing for the both of us right now is to get the hell out of here before Lispy pitches up unannounced" you suggest. "I have a room booked where we can talk much more privately and it’s safer than being out in the open like this.”
“And why should I trust anything you say?” The Courier challenges you.
“Well… one; I’m the only one that can help you find your son and two; I’m your only hope of evading the FBI or any law enforcement right now” you state matter-of-factly, “hey, if it makes you feel more at ease, then you can keep your gun trained on me at all times.”
You could visibly see the wheels turning in his mind as The Courier contemplates on whether he should trust you or not. Letting out a tense breath, he moves the gun in a pointing motion towards the door, “fine. Let’s go. Lead the way.”
“Mr and Mrs De Vil?” The Courier arches a brow at you as the both of you ride the elevator up to the room you had booked into. His one arm hooked around your waist and holding you close against his side as if in a loving manner, while his other hand was discreetly hidden under your jacket; holding the gun against your side.
“What?! 101 Dalmatians was one of my favourite animation movies as a kid. Besides, ‘Smith’ is such a cliché-” you shrug it off. “Be careful with that toy of yours, ‘Hubby’-” you remark as the gun digs into your side a bit and The Courier groans out in an annoyed manner.
“You know, you’re annoyingly chatty for an FBI agent” The Courier remarks once you guys enter the room.
Unceremoniously throwing yourself backwards onto the bed, “I’m a unique breed, what can I say-” you answer with a smirk while propped up on your elbows, head tilted to the side.
“I do believe that my eyes are up here Big Guy… and not where ya staring at the moment-” you snap your fingers, directing his attention to your face when you noticed his eyes were focused on your exposed thighs after the skirt of your dress-suit had risen dangerously high with your movements.
Seeming slightly embarrassed at being caught staring, The Courier changes the topic, “so, what exactly is your story, and what exactly do you want from me?”
“No need to be acting all shy now Sugar-” you remark with a chuckle. “Can we get back to business” the man mumbles out through gritted teeth, clearly even more annoyed at you now.
“Ok- ok-” you abruptly jump up off the bed, rolling your eyes at him. “Where are you going?!” The Courier aims the gun at you again when you walk pass him.
“Ugh! I’m just getting my laptop” you state, beginning to become annoyed at his over-cautious behaviour.
“No sudden movements” The Courier warns you. “Yes, ‘Hubby’-” you respond, fluttering your eyes at him.
“As you know, Maxwell had a huge influence that reached quite far and that’s how you got out of that little situation after you were arrested" you explain while booting up your laptop. "He also had millions to play around with, and I had first-hand access to it when he was alive.”
“If you have access to it, then why do you need me?” The Courier asks you. “I’m about to get to that, ‘Mr. Impatient’-” you dramatically sigh out.
“Then get to it” The Courier snaps at you. “Yes, ‘Dear’…” you sweetly smile at him.
“Um, ok... Maxwell had this system set up where it was a two-point access method when it came to handling the bulk of his money. This two-point access came in the form of two flash drives, I held possession of the one and he had the other” you explain, showing him the login page of the account.
“Well, he’s dead now and his body is now the property of the FBI. So, unless you have some magical trick up your sleeve to get it from that said dead body… I’d say you’re screwed lady” The Courier remarks.
“You would think so, wouldn’t you… but no. Maxwell didn’t have the flash with him at the time of his death. He had it stashed away in a very smart manner” you respond with a chuckle.
“Which is?” The Courier arches a brow in question. “The flash currently resides around your son’s neck… in the form of a pendent hanging on the necklace he’s wearing-” you smirkingly answer.
“How is that you know all of this information?" The Courier asks you. "What exactly was your job when you were undercover working for Maxwell?”
“You remember your buddies, the Capo’s” you ask The Courier and he gives a visible shudder at the memory of them torturing him.
“They were Maxwell’s righthand, doing all his dirty work. Gave you a real good welcoming party, did they?” you state with a smirk, causing him to glare at you.
“Sorry. Bad joke, I know” you raise your hands up in a sign of surrender. “Well, as I was saying… The Capo’s were his righthand in things and I was underneath them.”
“Doing what exactly and for how long?” The Courier asks eyeing you suspiciously.
“Not torturing people, if that’s what you’re thinking" you explain to him. "I handled Maxwell’s money. I kept track of all his offshore accounts. Made sure it couldn’t be traced by the Feds back to him, as well as handling in and out transfers whenever he was doing ‘projects’ and needed large sums of cash.”
“If you had access to that information, then why wasn’t Maxwell ever arrested?” The Courier asks. “Never met the man. So, I could hardly arrest him, now could I…” you sarcastically reply.
“How the heck was the transfers done then?” The Courier looks at you in confusion.
“The kid would be sent on vacations alone and I was his babysitter." You explain further, "during those times was when I did the transfers for Maxwell.”
“You’ve met him?” The Courier suddenly sits down next you, excited to hear about his son.
“Yes. Cute kid, and he turned into a quite a handsome young man” reaching your hand out to cup his cheek, “he has your eyes-” you remark stroking your thumb across his cheek, causing him to shut his eyes as he nuzzles into the palm of your hand.
Caught slightly off guard at The Courier’s reaction and the realization that you were feeling an attraction toward him. You immediately yank your hand away, “sorry… got a bit carried away there-” you stammer embarrassed by your actions.
Taken aback himself by it, The Courier gets up from the bed, clearing his throat, “It’s ok… so did I.”
“Uh… Ok, the deal is; I get you to your son and in return the flush drive is mine. So, are you in or not?” you look to him for an answer.
“Yeah. I’m in...” The Courier replies. “But why do you need my help if you’re already acquainted with Stanton. It should be easy for you to get the drive then.”
Exhaling heavily, you begin to explain. “You don’t truly understand the danger that boy is in now that Maxwell is dead. Every criminal is going to be gunning for him in a bid to get their hands onto Maxwell’s fortune. The kid is a walking target.”
“Why do you care so much about what happens to him or not?” The Courier asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously at you.
“I like the kid, ok..." you confess, "I kind of bonded with him during the two years I’ve been undercover. He’s sort of like the kid brother I never had.”
“If you’re so worried about him, why not go and get him yourself." The Courier asks. "Why did you come to me?”
“Well, for one; you’re his father and I knew you would be looking for him. And two; getting to him is the easy part, it’s the getting out with him that’s the hard part.”
“What’s your game plan?" The Courier asks, "How are we going to pull this thing off?”
Letting out a loud yawn, you throw yourself backwards onto the bed, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Right now, I plan on getting some rest.”
“Are you fucking kidding me!" The Courier goes off on you. "Lispy is probably tracking me as we speak! My son’s life is in danger! And you want to fucking sleep!”
Catapulting yourself back upwards, you glare at him, “don’t you fucking snap at me!”
You’re caught off guard when he suddenly rushes you, grabbing your shoulders and shakes you, “listen up lady… I don’t give a crap about what you think about my manners! You’re going to get your ass off of this bed and take me to my son!”
Pushing The Courier off you and glaring back at him, “don’t you tell me what to do!” you retaliate.
Jumping up from the bed and placing the gun against your temple, “I-said-take-me-to-my-son-” The Courier slowly sneers out at you.
Grabbing the barrel of the gun and moving it against your forehead, “go ahead. Do it... I dare you..." you challenge him. "Kill the only person that can help you find your son...”
Taken aback by your reaction The Courier lowers the gun, taking a step back from you, “you are crazy lady.”
Giving The Courier a huge smirk, “I know...” you respond, turning around and walking off towards the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” The Courier questions while you grab some items from a bag.
Turning around to face him, “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed...” you calmly state and head towards the bathroom.
After twenty minutes later, you finally exit the bathroom to find The Courier waiting for you on the edge of the bed. “I’m surprised you decided to stick around.”
“Yeah. Well, I wasn’t about to let you out of my sight. At least not until I finally have my son” The Courier responds.
“Then I guess we’re stuck together for a bit...” you state throwing yourself onto the bed.
“You’re really going to sleep now, aren’t you?” The Courier stares at you in question. “Yup..." you reply from your position on the bed. "I suggest you do the same, tomorrow we have a busy day ahead of us”
Shaking his head at you, “Well, I might as well grab a shower” The Courier mutters out. “Cool... The second bag has some stuff for you” you lazily point to where the duffle bags are.
The Courier grabs it while muttering further under his breath and head towards the bathroom then.
You were half asleep when The Courier entered back into the bedroom, dropping the duffle bag and making a ton of noise while milling about the room.
“Hey!” you yell out when the pillow you had was suddenly snatched off your face. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, “what are you doing?” you stare at The Courier while he tries to make himself comfortable on the floor.
“There’s only one bed” The Courier answers unsuccessfully trying to get comfortable. “So… There’s enough space for two people” you point out and he archers a brow at you.
“What?? You afraid I might bite or something?” you smirkingly tease him. “Ah, I get it now! It’s the girlfriend, right? You’re afraid she might find out you shared a bed with another woman. Where is she by the way?” you pretend to look around the room.
“She’s not my girlfriend" he grumbles out in response. "We parted ways because she couldn’t handle the situation.”
“Aw, shit… I went to far." you exhale regretfully. "I’m sorry about that. I have the habit of speaking before I think.”
“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it too much” The Courier mutters out.
Cocking your head to the side, you give him a faint smile, “I’m serious about the bed being big enough for the both of us. Besides you’re going to need a good night’s rest for what’s to come and you can’t do so sleeping on the floor.”
“Ok. Fine…” The Courier lets out a sigh and rises from the floor, grabbing the pillow he took from you earlier.
The Courier then settles in comfortably next you in the bed. “Goodnight Courier, Evil or whatever you go by…” you sleepily mumble out, closing your eyes to get some rest.
“Goodnight…” you hear him reply before sleep overtakes you.
The Next Day
You let out a soft moan as you began to slowly wake up. Just as you were about to roll over onto your side, you suddenly realize there was a heavy weight pressed in over your chest area and what felt like a leg draped over yours that was preventing you from doing so.
“Wakey, wakey sleepy head-” you gently tap your fingers against The Courier's forehead to wake him up.
You suddenly gasp out in surprise when The Courier lets out a deep groan and the hold he has around you tightens as he buries his face deeper into your chest while he starts to wake up.
“Top of the morning to ya… enjoying the special pillow are we-” you grin down at The Courier.
Realizing the position he was lying in, The Courier hastily releases his hold on you. “Uh… sorry about that” he mumbled out, avoiding all eye contact.
“It’s cool. Probably thought I was your little girlfriend I take it” you shrug it off. “I’m going to take a shower while you wake up properly” you get up and head for the bathroom.
“I ordered breakfast, so knock yourself out” you remark while packing when The Courier exits the bathroom.
“I’m not hungry… We should get going” The Courier drops his duffle bag onto the floor, shrugging you off.
Knowing that he was just being a stubborn ass, you stop what you were doing and take a seat at the small breakfast table.
“What are you doing?” The Courier stares at you. “I’m having breakfast and so are you-” you sternly state, pointing at him to take a seat.
“We don’t have time for this!" The Courier growls out in disapproval. "We need to go get my son.”
Swallowing the bite of food you had in your mouth, you nod your head “yes, we do…but I also need you at your full capacity. You look like shit after your dance with the Capo’s and I can’t have you dying on me or jeopardising the mission because you’re too weak due to lack of eating.”
“So, where exactly are we going to now?” The Courier questions you as you’re driving out of the hotel parking.
Turning your attention to him, you give a little smirk “we’re going to do a little bank withdrawal-”
You had parked quite a distance away from the bank so as not to draw suspicion to yourself and your new partner.
“Are you sure you don’t want me going in there with you?” The Courier looks at you in concern.
“Yup” you nod your head in confirmation, “I’ve always come here by myself, having you go in with me might look suspicious. Just keep an eye out until I come back and be ready to drive the minute I exit.”
The minute you stepped into the bank you had the feeling that you were being watched.
You knew that news of Maxwell’s death must have spread amongst the criminal grapevine by now, which meant those looking to take over his empire would be coming after Stanton. And those that were part of Maxwell’s inner circle and knew what your job had been; they would be coming after you.
Entering the bank vault, you waited until the person attending you left the room before you went to open the safety deposit box.
Opening the box, you face lit up with unadulterated pleasure upon seeing the golden bracelet amongst the other items inside.
Exiting out of the vault and onto the main floor, you slowly take a thorough scan of the bank. That’s when you see the same suspicious man you had noticed upon entering was still in the exact spot he had been earlier.
Confirming your thoughts of earlier with yourself and exhaling deeply, you carefully tug the sleeve of your shirt down and proceed to exit the bank.
The Courier starts up the car upon noticing your exit. Yet instead of crossing the road, he watches you take a turn and walk up the street then.
Confused at first by what you were doing, The Courier then notices a strange looking guy exiting the bank immediately after you had and that he was now following closely behind you. Realizing then what was happening, The Courier guns the engine, racing to get ahead of you.
You quickly sneak a look behind you, letting out a tense breath when your suspicion of earlier proves to be true; you were being followed and had been since you entered the bank. Hastening your steps, you then notice a alleyway turnoff ahead and quickly turn into it.
You quickly risk another look behind as you rush down the alleyway, not paying much attention in front of you. Just as you were passing a dumpster; you’re suddenly grabbed when you reach the end of it. You were about to fight the person when you then realize it was The Courier that was standing in front of you instead of the person that had been following you.
Letting out a sigh of relief at seeing him, you were just about to ask how he knew you were in trouble when the sound of footsteps nearing was heard. Before you could even react, The Courier pushes you tightly up against the wall with his body, causing you to gasp out in shock at how close his body was against yours.
Feeling slightly affected by the closeness of him, you inquisitively stare up into The Courier’s eyes to try and figure out what his plan was. The person that was following you then passes you guys and before you knew it; The Courier suddenly tips down, capturing your lips in a kiss.
At first you were caught off guard slightly by it for a minute and the next; you were kissing him back. Your lips parting under his, allowing The Courier’s tongue to slip pass them and into your mouth as he deepened the kiss.
You were so lost in the kiss, lost in the feeling of The Courier’s body pressed intimately up against yours that you didn’t notice your stalker had already passed you guys and completely left the alleyway.
You’re pulled back to reality when The Courier finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you stare into each other’s eyes while attempting to steady your breathing.
“John...” The Courier softly remarks.
“What?” you ask in confusion.
“My name… It’s John…” he responds back.
“Oh… Ok…” you reply, still a bit off balanced by what had just happened.
“He’s gone now. We should get to the car and get the hell out of here” The Courier states, grabbing hold of your hand and basically dragging you to the car.
What the heck just happened?! You silently think to yourself during the car ride. I know the KISS was a decoy, but why the FUCK did I kiss him BACK?! You were internally freaking out. And he DEEPENED it in RETURN!
“So, what’s the plan?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by John’s question. “Huh?” you look at him in a dazed confusion.
“Where do we go from here?” John repeats himself, “what’s the next part of your plan now that you’ve got the drive?”
“Um- yeah” you shake yourself back into gear, “we should get the hell out of New Orleans that’s for sure…”
“You’re the lady with the plans…” John tilts his head at you in question, “where to then?”
“According to my sources Stanton is in Miami right now, he’ll remain there for a week before they ship him off again” you inform him, “we have to get to him before that happens, because once he leaves Miami, he’ll be lost to us forever.”
“So, we’re going to Miami” John states and you shake your head at him. “No. Not immediately. We need to get any tails we have on our backs off first before heading there.”
“No!” John growls out, causing the car horn to go off when he hits the steering wheel out of frustration.
“Relax…” you grip his arm in an attempt to calm him down, “what I meant was we’re not going directly there. We have to be smart about this if we want to get Stanton out of there without putting him into too much danger.” You then explain to him the plan in detail more, “so we’ll go around the backway into Miami, from here we’ll head to Texas, from there; New York and then we’ll make our way to Miami.”
“I suppose it will have to do” John sighs out in defeat.
Part 2
#The Courier/Evil Sivle#the courier x reader#the Courier x y/n#the courier (2012)#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#JDM
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Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)
SURPRISE DELIVERY
[ Includes ]
Sending nudes (Bet you can guess to who)
Mentions of nudity
Yes Man practically going insane (In a good way)
[ Read at your own discretion! ]
“Wait, you’re telling me my Pip-Boy…broke?”
“Apparently, or at least that’s what my terminal says, boss.”
“Huh. Guess these things weren’t as indestructible as I thought.”
“Well, Deathclaws tend to make people say that about most things.”
Raul further examined your Pip-Boy, as it laid dormant on his desk. It had been dismantled, circuits and parts littering his desk, with several wires connecting the Pip-Boy to Raul’s personal terminal. A few moments of carefully scanning the Pip-Boy, Raul finally spoke again.
“Luckily for you, the main CPU wasn’t damaged at all. I reckon all you need is a new screen and a few replacement parts. It should be an easy fix, I have plenty of Pip-Boys to spare.”
“Plenty…?”
“Vault Dwellers aren’t as hard to kill as you are, boss. If you go looking, Pip-Boys are as common as dirt around here.”
“Huh.”
“Stay here, I’ll go see what I can find.”
Raul lifted himself off his chair, scavenging through an unorganized metal crate. Digging through piles of Pip-Boys, most of which were still stained with blood. After a few moments, he retrieved a relatively clean Pip-Boy, tossing it carelessly onto his desk.
“This should be clean. Enough.”
He delicately dismantled the Pip-Boy, removing its cover. Say what you want about RobCo, they sure knew how to pack circuits into a compact space. The Pip-Boy was practically overfilling with the amount of circuitry housed inside.
“Now, this is the Pip-Boy 3000D, which is a slightly different model than your Pip-Boy. But, it should still be compatible.”
You examined the Pip-Boy more carefully, noticing the slight differences between the two models after Raul pointed it out. After scanning and rapidly comparing the two Pip-Boys, you noticed something completely different.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, this? Just a camera.”
“Camera? They made Pip-Boys with cameras?”
“They’ve made Pip-Boys with everything. One model could play video games.”
“Wow. I learn something new everyday.”
“I can install a camera in your Pip-Boy if you want, boss.”
“Yes, please.”
“Alright, just help me hold it still.”
Quest completed
NEW AND IMPROVED
You’d never imagine a camera being so useful out in the Mojave, but if you had to rank your best life choices in a list, getting the upgrade would probably be first. From taking pictures of notable locations for easier navigation, or helping you find your way after getting lost, it’s a wonder why RobCo didn’t add a camera into every Pip-Boy model.
Its best use, however, was taking selfies to send to your lovable automat companion. Your Pip-Boy already had the ability to send messages to any RobCo device, so using it to send small, frequent updates was as easy as it was fun. Not to mention it certainly seemed to make Yes Man happier.
“Courier!”
Ah, speak of the devil.
“Hm? Yes, Yes Man?”
“I just came in to remind you that we’re scheduled to go scout out the Mojave in 2 minutes! And you’re still…not dressed. Which is fine, take your time!”
“Oh, crap. I completely forgot, my bad.”
“No problem! Just hurry up! Please!”
You hurriedly get off your bed, rushing towards your bathroom, armour and equipment haphazardly cradled in your arms. Once inside, you rush to take off your casual loungewear, haphazardly placing your clothes, and Pip-Boy, on the vanity.
Snap!
What was that?
You scan your surroundings, searching for the source of the sound. Just then, you notice a familiar prompt appear on your Pip-Boy; ‘New Photo Taken. View Photo?’
Oh. You must have accidentally hit the camera button on the vanity. You sigh, and pick up the device. You accept the prompt, expecting a blurry mess, and getting ready to delete the photo. However, what ended up appearing on your display was far clearer than you were expecting; in fact, a relatively well-shot picture showing off your nude body. Had you not known it was you, it could’ve been passed as some pre-war erotica.
Erotica, hm?
I think I know someone who might appreciate this.
Quest added
SURPRISE DELIVERY
Bing!
Bing!
Bing!
That’s odd, Yes Man thought to himself. He was receiving a sudden influx of messages from Courier. Weren’t they changing? Why would they be sending so much stuff? He sighed, temporarily disconnecting from his Securitron body to take a look. He examined the pile of notifications, opening one of them at random.
Oh.
Oh my.
Yes Man could feel his main processor stuttering slightly from the shock. All he could do was stare in awe at the picture you’d sent him; a beautifully taken view of your gorgeous, gorgeous body. He opened another in disbelief; an ass pic. Another; your thighs.
Wow.
Yes Man felt his Securitron body noticeably heat up. His antenna began to spin at alarming rates, and his claws twitched. He stared hungrily at the images, saving as many as he could.
God, you were so beautiful.
It was like Yes Man had just been stranded in the Mojave to starve, and your pictures were a gift from the heavens full of water and food. He couldn’t. Stop. Staring. His mind wandered, fantasizing about touching every inch of that stunning body. What he wanted to do, what he wished he could do. He was lucky that only his main memory bank wasn’t filtered for any inappropriate content, because all he wanted to do was memorize each pixel you’d sent him.
Quest completed
SURPRISE DELIVERY
Quest added
GAUGING THE REACTION
You walked out of your bathroom, donning your Ranger armour and of course, your Pip-Boy. You cheerfully walked down to the Lucky 38 lobby, where Yes Man was waiting.
“Hey, Yes Man. You look a little flushed, may I ask why?”
“...”
You chuckle, that mere few moments of silence proved your little surprise had worked. As you began to innocently make your way to the front door, a metal claw grasped at your wrist, tugging it almost as if anchoring you to the Lucky 38.
“Yes Ma-”
Your eyes widened in shock as you felt Yes Man pull you in, tightly wrapping his metallic arms around you, and practically smothering your face with the glow of his display. Was..was he kissing you?
“G-gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous-”
Crap, did I break him?
Quest completed
GAUGING THE REACTION
#fallout#fallout companions#fallout new vegas#yes man#yes man fallout#fnv#fnv courier#yes man fnv#fallout nv#new vegas#courier 6#courier six#fnv yes man#raul tejada#lucky 38#yes man x reader#yes man x y/n#no y/n#self insert#self indulgent#self indulgence at its finest#filthy thoughts#nudity#my fic#my fanfiction#my writing
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Homeward Bound (When Paths Cross Pt. V, Javier Peña x Reader)
Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)
Length: ~3k words
Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?
Chapter Summary: After three weeks away on work trips, you finally come 'home.'
Chapter Warnings: good mix of porn and plot in this one. p in v, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, safe sex, pushy javi (but never in a sexual way!), javi lacks impulse control. another brief moment of angst but it resolves quickly.
If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!
PREVIOUS PART (IV) HERE
It’s been three weeks since you’ve been able to stay over on a Sunday night.
As you prep for a new installation of an exhibition with additional courier responsibilities, terse mornings in the office have taken you out of state and out of town for continuous weekends. You’re miserable - you miss your Peña boys, very much so. You miss Chucho’s company and you miss Javi’s… everything.
You call as often as you can which is, admittedly, not all that often.
By the end of the third week, you’re starting to worry that Javi might have forgotten about you or written you off entirely. You know that’s just your own worry and self-consciousness showing through, but you can’t help it, regardless.
At the end of those three long, exhausting weeks, you finally trudge home on a Friday night, your cab dropping you off just outside your apartment. You haul your suitcase up the steps and into your small loft, the added exertion only serving to exhaust you even further. You wheel your suitcase inside and close the door behind you, moving so you can lean backward against it, eyes closing as you take a few deep breaths.
It’s good to be home, really, but all you want to do is throw yourself in bed and sleep for the next twelve or fourteen hours. Sighing, you open your eyes and pick yourself up off of the wall, dragging your suitcase back to your bedroom. You drop it on the floor next to the door and kick off your boots, flinging yourself into the bed. It’s comfortable, and you don’t want to move, but you force yourself to roll to your side and grab your phone off the end table, dialing the only person, as it turns out, that you want anything to do with when you’re this tired and miserable. The phone only rings twice.
“Muñeca?” Javi’s warm baritone trembles through the speaker, lighting up your body with its warmth.
“Hey, Javi. I just got back.” You can practically hear the smile through the other end of the speaker as he chuckles on the other end of the line.
“Good. I was starting to think you ran away from me. How are you? It’s been a long few weeks, feeling okay now at the end of it?” You nod and then answer with a hum.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Exhausted, but all in one piece. I’m just happy to be home. Did you stay out of trouble while I’ve been gone?”
He chuckles again and sighs. “A perfect angel. Nothing to report. Just don’t ask Pops what he thinks.” You giggle at the joke as he pauses for a beat. After a heavy breath on his end he asks, “Can I come to see you?”
You sigh, a bit exasperated by the thought of it, but you consider it, anyway. You really do want to see him.
“It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I’m sure I won’t be very good company at all.”
“Have you eaten?”
You pause, not wanting to answer. You can’t lie to him.
“No. I’ll eat in the morning.”
Javi sighs through his teeth - it’s a sharp sound that conveys to you his disappointment. “Absolutely not. I’ll pick something up on the way over. You need to eat, cariño. Even if you kick me out right after, let me bring you something to eat.”
“But Javiii…” You whine, annoyed at your own voice. When did you get so whiny?
“No, cariño. Food. What do you want? Anything. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
You give in, offering him a suggestion for something you’re in the mood for, and you curl up on the bed, planning on just resting your eyes for a long while. After falling asleep accidentally, you’re awoken by the loud sound of persistent knocking at your front door. You jump slightly, standing and stretching your limbs before you trudge to the door and open it up, greeted by one beautifully bronzed and mustached Tejano.
“Javi-” You smile, just his presence alone lifting your spirits, and he lifts the food in his right hand with a smirk as he pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind you. He sets the food down on the couch for a moment, turning and gathering you up in his arms. His grip is tight, warm, and comforting.
This, it turns out, feels far more like coming home than walking into your apartment did.
The scent of his cologne and his leather jacket permeate your senses, settling you with ease as you allow yourself to melt into his arms like putty. “Muñeca… I missed you. Pops has been unbearable without you around.” You smile into his jacket and sigh, pressing yourself against him fully.
“Oh? You just miss me keeping him at bay, huh?” He laughs - a few short breaths through his nose - and then leans down to nuzzle against your hair, nosing at the spot just behind your ear. Your hands wrap tightly around his waist, clinging firmly to him.
“Among… other things.” He chuckles again and trails a hand up to your chin, ticking it upwards with his index finger so he can lean in and kiss you properly. It’s a slow kiss - maybe the slowest you’ve shared so far - and it feels like it sets your skin completely alight. When he pulls away, he smooths a hand down your cheek before he offers you a lopsided smile and a slow breath. “Food has been delivered. Want me to go now? Let you relax?”
You shake your head frantically and tighten your grip, unwilling to let go.
“Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere, Mr. DEA.”
He laughs and of course, obliges you. You have a seat together on the couch, wrapped up in his arms as he sits and eats with you, taking turns sharing a recollection of your missing weeks for a long while. He cleans up the living room before you sleepily tumble into bed together, barely bothering to strip yourselves of your clothing.
He wraps you up in his arms, hands stroking whatever strips of exposed skin he can reach until you find yourself falling into the most glorious dreamless sleep. He follows shortly thereafter, body cradling yours and keeping you safe and warm under the sheets.
~~~
Javi wakes before you do, stirring you from your dreamless slumber with the scent of fresh coffee and a bag of donuts. Groggily, you sit up as he rubs your back, urging you awake.
“What time is it?” You ask.
“Quarter to nine. Thought you could use the extra sleep.” He holds up the bag to you as if it’s an offering. “Breakfast? Made it myself.”
“Oh I’d bet you did. Krispy Kreme bag label and all, huh?” He shrugs nonchalantly, that distinctive smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips once again. You share a quiet breakfast in bed together, with Javi’s side pressed up against yours against the headboard as you pick at each other’s donuts. It’s comfortable in a way that you haven’t felt with someone else before - at least not for a very long time, you think.
You take your time finishing, chatting easily all the while, before you announce your intentions to take a shower - alone. Javi’s look is one of severe disappointment, immediately offering you the saddest puppy dog eyes as he begs you to let him join you. Ultimately, the pleading face he gives you cracks your resolve in an instant. You let him join anyway with the promise of keeping his hands to himself.
And, Javi does, in fact, behave in the shower. You’re truly surprised but, save a few brief wandering hands, he largely keeps them to himself and lets you bathe quickly and efficiently. You feel remarkably better and refreshed not that you’ve washed the feeling of airline travel off of your body completely.
When you get out, however, all hell breaks loose. No promises were made for how he’d behave after the shower, so in no time at all he has you pressed up against the countertop, leaning over you as his lips attach themselves to that tender junction between your neck and collarbone. He has you caged in, unable to move anywhere but exactly where he wants you to be. One hand reaches down for your thigh, hitching it up over his own hip as your core brushes against his rigid length. You gasp at the contact, his searing heat sending sparks down your spine.
“I’ve missed you, Muñeca…” You giggle and roll your hips forward slightly as one of his hands slides between your legs, thumb brushing lightly over your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes fall shut as he leans forward, lips finding spots all over your cheeks and neck to kiss and nibble at. You’re putty in his hands, like always.
He works you quickly to the edge on his fingers, pulling a powerful orgasm out of you that leaves you breathless and shaking. Then you drop to your knees and take him into your mouth, hands massaging circles into his hips as his body tights and cums deep down your throat. Neither of you are sated, and you both know it.
You drag him into the bedroom and throw him down onto the sheets. Well, he assists - he’s a big boy - but you definitely urge him into position. Throwing one leg overtop of him, you straddle his waist, grinding against his deliciously hard cock as you lean down and kiss him furiously.
“It was like hell not being able to see you, not being able to talk to you, Javi… and not being able to touch you, either? I thought I was going crazy.” He chuckles and returns your affections, kissing you back with just as much feverishness as you’re feeling right now.
“So did I, cariño. I can’t tell you how many night I had to suffer… laying in bed thinking about you over and over again. It was torture.” You nuzzle your forehead against his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lower jaw before biting at it lightly. Hips rolling against him, you can practically feel the blood rushing back to his cock as you work him over.
“I need you, Javi. Please- fuck, I need to feel you so badly.” You whine into his ear, body mercilessly rolling along his as your slick starts to coat his shaft. If you move your hips just right, you can feel the tip of his cock notch at your entrance and then slip back out, begging you to just sink down onto him already. He groans, head dropping back in frustration as he tugs your hips upwards and off of him.
“Hold on, baby… I need to go get a condom-” Whining, you fall forward, throwing your bodyweight across his chest.
“Javiiii… I’m on birth control. You don’t have to.” He sighs and laces one hand into your hair, softly tugging as he lifts you up just enough to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Can’t be too careful though, bonita.” You groan but roll off of him, not willing to push it any further, however much you really don’t want to wait for him to go find one. He comes back quickly, rolls it on, and lays down, pulling you back ontop of him as he enters you in what feels like the blink of an eye. Immediately, he has you whimpering on his cock, whining and moaning as you bounce up and down with ease. With your eyes closed, every movement and feeling is intensified - the way he fills you so fully and completely, his greedy hands gripping into your hips, the way he has his thighs propped up for you like you’re sitting in your own personal throne.
You’re lost to it. Lost to him, really.
It’s not long before the two of you are tumbling over the edge together, a melted mess of moans and ‘so perfect’s and ‘missed you’s and ‘so good’s. You praise each other endlessly, a cacophonous chorus of each other’s moans and syllables as you come down from your respective highs. Somewhere in the post-coital haze, you register Javi wiping you down with a cloth and then curling into you on the bed. It feels safe, warm, and perfect. It’s everything you didn’t have while you were away, and everything you didn’t realize exactly how much you missed, either.
The rest of the morning goes by in a repeat fashion. You nap for a few moments, wake up, ravage each other once more, and inevitably fall back asleep. Over and over again, you find a calmness and an equilibrium in each other's bodies that both of you were severely missing while you were away.
Eventually, you both get hungry. The donuts could only do so much to satisfy you long-term. After getting out of bed - finally - and cleaning up, you set out for something to eat. Javi drives the two of you, keeping the windows wide open as you listen to Santana the entire drive. The tex-mex place he picked out wasn’t too far, only a fifteen-minute drive or so, but it feels like a lifetime with the way your stomach is gurgling at every turn. Once you’re finally seated and have ordered, he reaches across the table to grasp your hands, pulling them up to his mouth as he kisses your knuckles with a smile.
You settle into easy conversation together, recounting your past few weeks to one another. It feels natural, like second nature. Everything just feels right.
You really, really did miss this.
When you finally finish up, Javi helps you out of your seat with a chivalrous and well-placed arm, walking you outside and to the car with his fingers laced in yours. He drives you back to the Peña farm, where Chucho embraces you with the warmth and strength of a real father figure, making you feel so comfortable and loved that you don’t ever want to let go.
“Chiquita,” He addresses you. “You’ve been well missed, here. Javi has been insufferable.” You giggle at the comment and squeeze him a little tighter until he lets you go finally, holding your shoulders as he looks you up and down. “You look exhausted.”
“Yeah. Long couple of weeks. I’m just glad I’m finally home.”
Home. You think about that concept again for a moment, trying to consider it. It seems to keep coming up these past few days.
Home was starting to get pretty complicated for you. It wasn’t the northeast anymore, but it wasn’t your apartment, either. It was starting to feel more like the Peña house, really, but you know it hasn’t been long enough for that to really be viable. You shake off the thought and reassure Chucho, instead.
“And it’s good to see you. I missed you, too, Chucho.” He smiles and offers a curt nod.
“Stay for dinner. We’ll do a Saturday meal instead, keep you here a little longer, hm?” He heads off to the kitchen with a smile and Javi steps up to you, squeezing your shoulder.
“Care to take a walk with me, cariño?” You agree, of course, and he leads you outside, starting to lead you down one of the many footpaths across the large acreage of the farm. You settle into an easy conversation, then, talking about any and everything. It was carefree again, until you asked about his work.
“Why’d you decide to come back to Laredo, after all that time in the DEA? Chucho always talks about how into it you were.” He sighs. It’s a long, suffering one that makes you instantly regret asking in the first place.
“It’s a long story I’d rather not get into.”
“Oh. Sorry… I didn’t mean to overstep, Javi.” He shakes his head and looks over at you with a stern expression.
“‘S alright. Just, uh… change of topic? Why don’t you tell me about back home?”
There’s that word again.
Home.
You’re not so sure what to do with it. Where even is ‘back home?’ You’re certain he means back up North, but it doesn’t feel right to call it that, not anymore.
“Oh, you mean where I’m from? Back up North?”
“Yeah. What’s it like? I spent some time in D.C., training, but haven’t been further than that, really.”
“Well… it’s a lot of cities. Every two hours that you drive there’s a big city, pretty much. Washington D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, New York, Boston… And you can keep going. Life gets oriented around them. Things here are… simpler, I think. Less hustle and bustle. I like it.”
“Yeah? You like sleepy Laredo?”
“You don’t?” You’re surprised, to say the least. Why bother coming back if he didn’t like it in the first place? Javi shrugs it off with a grunt, shoulders raising with a grimace.
“Never did so much. Spent a long time just wanting to get away. Go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”
“Then why’d you come back?”
“When I left the DEA, I was lost. Didn’t have anywhere else to turn to. So I came home. Figured I’d retire, settle down and help Pops out. You know just as well as I do that he does way too much around here without asking for help.” You laugh sarcastically for a moment.
“Yeah that is true, absolutely.”
“Don’t think I even knew what else to do. This is all I know. Laredo, and DEA.” The conversation lulls as the two of you continue to walk until you finally speak up, an unasked question hovering at the tip of your tongue.
“Think you’re gonna stick around?” He slows and stops in his tracks, turning to face you as one hand reaches up to brush his thumb across your cheekbone. You can feel a heat rise to your cheeks slightly and he smiles at your reaction to him. The tone in his voice is playful, teasing, even, when he answers. You know what he’s implying, even if he won’t say it out loud just yet.
“I don’t know. Are you?”
~ ~ ~
a/n: Lil' bit of a cliffhanger on this one. Trying to set up some things to happen later on. I love all of you who are following along! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so appreciated! xoxoxo
Taglist: @amyispxnk @picketniffler (lmk if you'd like to be added!)
NEXT PART (VI) HERE
#writing#no beta we die like men#javi peña smut#javi peña fanfiction#javier peña x reader#javi peña x reader#javier peña#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#fanfic#javier peña smut#narcos fanfiction#narcos smut#javier peña fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction
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JOHN WICK X READER: The Courier
part one (part 2!)
authors note: this is my first drabble on tumblr, I do plan on making these into a small series! please lmk your thoughts if you’d like! thx 💕
summary: you are an up and coming courier for organized criminals. you bump into buzzed and confident John at a cocktail party while you’re in the middle of work, but you let him know you don’t have time for his games.
warnings: NSFW blurb, alcohol, cursing, motorcycles?
John wasn’t one for parties. Well, he pretended that he wasn’t one for parties. It’s part of the image, the gruff and tough hitman, best in the world. He had a reputation to uphold.
But he wouldn’t deny a good drink and some conversation every once in a while.
The bar and lounge area in the Continental was quite, well, bustling. Filled with assassins, crime lords, you name it. If they were someone in the criminal underworld in NYC, they were here tonight. John could feel the tension between gangs in the air, the rules of the hotel hung above everyone’s head.
No business conducted on hotel grounds.
Of course, no one dared to break that rule.
Here was John, in a congregation of hitmen that he has known over the past several decades. Chatting it up with booze in hand, and on their breath. Some would call them OGs. In the game long enough for people in the industry to know not to fuck with them. Especially John. These old dogs didn’t need new tricks, in fact, all of them had body counts that combined, would make the High Table shudder.
But of course, what comes up, eventually must come down. They were aging men. As early as their late 30s, and as late as their mid 50s. There was fresh meat lurking on the sidelines, waiting for their chance to be in the spotlight.
And that’s were she comes in.
Y/N.
New to the game. Well, fairly new. She wasn’t an expert, however, she was very good at what she did. Was she a killer for hire? Not exactly. Y/N had created an industry no one in the underworld knew was needed. In fact, it was very convenient.
An anonymous courier business.
You need to send over files but the Feds are on your ass and probably have acess to your fax machine? Call Y/N. She’ll be at your door in 20 minutes to drive across the city to deliver it for you. You forget it’s your wife’s birthday because you were too busy pile driving your side piece to remember? Y/N will pick up something for her at Target and get it to your door in an hour.
You get the idea.
Have a hard drive of the password to a Bitcoin account that’s worth 5 million dollars? Y/N will bring it to whoever needs it in the city, on her modified motorcycle, gun on hip and helmet on head, safe and sound. She had a perfect track record of delivering things for crime syndicates around New York City for the past year and a half.
Enemies? Not for Y/N. Every criminal group used her services. So much in fact, she had even hired a small team. She was growing. Slowly. But growing.
It wouldn’t take long for John to notice Y/N. In fact, he would take notice in a few moments, right after he took a large sip of his bourbon that he just had to have tonight. John was chuckling amongst colleagues, as he noticed Y/N walk into the lounge, seemingly with work on her mind. Her helmet was still on her head, and she wore a form fitting protective biker suit that matched everything she wore.
Black.
John frowned in confusion. He’s never seen anyone wear full motorcycle gear into the hotel before, much less one that was sort of crashing a party.
Y/N walked quickly, right up to the man himself, Winston. She wasted no time, unzipping her well organized backpack and handing Winston a protected manilla envelope, with god knows what inside. The elderly man smiled kindly at the helmeted woman, quickly signing some sort of touch screen device with his finger, before she efficiently put her bag back on over her shoulder, and began to walk away.
John raised his eyebrows at the sight. Who was that? He couldn’t help but form a soft but playful grin as his eyes danced around her figure that was covered by that riding suit.
“Any of you recognize that one?” John blurted during a discussion his friends were having. The men turned their heads towards Y/N, all chuckling softly.
“Yeah, Y/N. She works this delivery service for people like us in the city. Super under the table type stuff. You seriously haven’t heard of her?” Marcus asked, as John shook his head.
“No. I’m not familiar.” John huffed out. John was a curious man, and he just had to know more. So, enticed by this mystery woman, he wriggled through the thick crowd of guests to catch up to her. Before she could make it any closer to the door, John gave her a light tap on the shoulder. The woman jumped a bit, before turning around.
There he was. The man. The myth. The legend. John fucking Wick. Y/N almost froze in fear at the mere sight of the man who towered over her. She had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat.
John stared down at her, trying his best to look through the blacked out facial shield on her biker helmet. He was just itching to know what she looked like. Guess he’d do it himself. He was a man of little words after all. What was she going to do, fight him?
John took his large hands and placed them on her helmet, applying pressure and lifting it up and off of her head.
“H-hey! What the hell?” Y/N stuttered out, as John took a moment to study her delicate features.
Wow, she’s fairly easy on the eyes. John thought to himself as his eyes trailed all over her face. With nice cheekbones and gorgeous eyes, anyone who had sight could tell that this was a woman you could never forget. An impish smile curled onto the man’s lips, his very well maintained black beard framing his mouth to perfection. Y/N unintentionally took in his scent of patchouli and tobacco. Of course she could also smell the whiskey on his breath but that went without saying.
“Well, aren’t you just a pretty thing?” John hummed out softly at the young woman, as she grabbed her helmet and plucked it with force from his grip. It was clear that this infamous hitman had a few bourbons to drink already tonight, and he didn’t mind finding a pretty woman to take up to a hotel room after a few more.
Y/N grumbled as John bit his tongue to force himself not to say anything else in this moment.
I’ve only heard stories about this guy, scary ass stories. What a pain in my ass. Better deal with him so I don’t make an enemy.
John was maybe a decade or two older than her. Jesus christ. Y/N had daddy issues but this would be a whole other level if she decided to even pursue something like John.
“Sorry. I gotta go, still working.” Y/N spoke to him as professionally as possible. John displayed a perky smile on his face, his eyes racing with attraction.
Just look at her. I’d be crazy if I didn’t shoot my shot.
“You can’t do just one drink with me? I’m sure your client would understand if they knew who you were with.” John offered, gesturing towards the hotel lounge full of people.
Y/N laughed nervously, her heart racing at the mere sight of this man. The way this older man with obvious charisma was certainly getting to her.
And here John was, thinking about how pretty Y/N’s lips would look wrapped around his hard cock. Her head bobbing as he used his large strong hands to grab a fistful of hair, making her take him deeper into her throat each time. Maybe she’d gag and plead with him to be gentle. Maybe she’d be a total pro at it. Maybe a mix of both. With tears in her eyes as she whimpers in pain, while her legs trembled for John to make his way over to spread them apart for the real fun.
“I’m really sorry, I just have a few jobs-”
John’s long pointer finger swooped under her soft chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. Y/N had no idea what to do, there has never been a man this forward towards her in her life. Just the thought of John’s touch alone made hundreds of women wet with excitement. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be one of them, it wasn’t smart mixing work and love.
As they say, don’t shit where you eat.
John could sense tension striking the area where they stood. Right now, there was nobody else in the room besides for this woman. He took her as a challenge, new blood. Young, pretty, and probably naive, right? Someone he could have a bit of fun with upstairs after he bought her a few drinks.
If John were sober right now, he would have probably said ‘goodbye’ in a polite and formal way, smiling as she left the building. John with some liquor in him though, was a completely different man. The rumors people spoke in the criminal underworld were true, this man though and though, was a total playboy.
So of course, when a new and unfamiliar pretty face in town crossed his path, he just had to have her. At least for the night. He was especially curious about what she had underneath that form fitting riding suit, not that it left too much up to the imagination.
Y/N cleared her throat.
“Right, uh, I’m gonna, uh, go.” Y/N mumbled, pulling away from John’s electrifying touch, taking a subtle deep breath. John blinked his brown eyes of his a few times, almost lost in his train of thought in the few moments that he had her in his gentle but firm grasp.
Before he knew it, she was hurrying out of the hotel doors. Y/N didn’t think twice to get out of that awkward/terrifying/intimate situation. So many emotions were flowing through her at once, her heart beating at about a mile a minute. It didn’t take long for her to climb onto her motorcycle, start it up, and peel off down the busy street, away from that god forsaken hotel.
And then there was John. Shocked, stunned even. A woman who didn’t immediately jump at the chance to have drinks with him? Unbelievable.
He could hear his group of fellow middle aged hitmen snicker at his failed attempt at picking up the woman, and all he could do was clench his jaw, and walk back to the bar.
They’d meet again. Of course. It would take some time, John was a patient man, and Y/N was a working woman. Their paths would eventually cross again, especially in the industry they were involved in.
And maybe, just maybe, John could have his chance with Y/N, and actually convince her to have that drink with him.
Even if it was just for some fun.
#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick x y/n#keanu reeves#john wick x you#jw4#keanu#john wick imagine
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Sweet on You, Chapter 5
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Story Summary: HERE
Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, Idiots to Lovers, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N
Word Count: ~2k
A/N: None for this chapter except enjoy!
(Divider by the superb @theradioactivespidergwen !)
Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast @peachy-flxwr @sleepysleepymom @fishinsuits @milkbummm @lazyxsquirrel @beezusvreeland @caughtthefever @bohemianrhapsody86 @yarrystyleeza @indestructeible @pepperthebi-spy @kezibear
How does Italian sound for tomorrow night? I was thinking Casa Italia over on 51st.
You couldn't help but smile as you noticed the text notification from Matt on your phone.
He had apparently texted you several hours prior but you had been busy taking notes for Mr. DiStefano during a meeting with an important client most of the morning and had just gotten a second to breathe before having to go pick up lunch for the partners (because God forbid they be willing to pay a few extra bucks for delivery and tip instead of sending you to go fetch it).
That sounds great, you replied. What time and where did you want to meet?
You put your phone back into your pants pocket and gathered your purse, then stopped by your boss's office. “Excuse me, Mr. DiStefano, I'm heading out to go pick up your lunch.”
Mr. DiStefano nodded. “As soon as you get back I need you to input the payments that came in this morning and bring the checks to the bank since you didn't do it earlier.”
Your eye twitched. The reason you hadn't done the deposit yet was because right after you had signed for the incoming checks and the courier had left you had been called into that 3-hour meeting. As it was, you'd barely had time to lock the envelopes in your top desk drawer and forward the main phone line to voicemail before Mr. DiStefano was exaggeratedly sighing while looking at his watch.
You plastered a fake smile on your face. On top of still needing to do the day's deposit you also had to transcribe the notes you had taken during the meeting while they were still semi-fresh in your mind, return phone calls, forward voicemails, schedule more meetings, and prepare and send the day’s invoices. “Of course, sir.”
You continued down the hall towards Mr. Williams’s office, passing the doorway without stopping when you heard him and Mr. Abbott laughing together in Mr. Abbott’s office.
“...So then she goes -- she goes, ‘oh, okay’ and drinks it anyway!” Mr. Abbott was saying. “Dumb as a box of rocks, but at least she had a nice rack.”
You rolled your eyes before stopping in front of his office. What a tool.
You knocked on the doorframe. “Excuse me, Mr. Abbott?”
Mr. Abbott paused and looked past Mr. Williams to you. “Yes?”
You fought to keep your smile. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm just letting you both know that I'm going to go pick up your lunches now.”
Mr. Williams, who had also turned towards you once he realized you were in the doorway, nodded.
Mr. Abbott dug his wallet out of his pocket and handed you a laundry pickup ticket. “While you're out, pick up my dry cleaning for me. Thanks, dollface.”
What you wanted to say was ‘fuck you and your fucking dry cleaning’ but instead you forced yourself to remain calm. “Sure thing, Mr. Abbott. Mr. Williams, do you need anything else while I'm out?”
Mr. Williams glanced at Mr. Abbott briefly before looking back at you and shaking his head. “Not at the moment, no.”
You nodded. “Okay then, I'll be back soon.”
Your smile dropped as soon as you turned away from the doorway. There goes any chance of me having a lunch break. At least by some miracle all three of the partners had ordered from the same restaurant today so you (probably) wouldn't be late getting back.
You took a deep breath. It'll be fine.You got this.
You made sure that the phone was still forwarding to voicemail then headed out.
You waited until you had gotten down the block a ways before you took your phone out of your pocket, pulled up your contacts, and pressed the dial button.
You put your phone up to your ear as it began to ring.
“Sky’s the Limit Tech Consulting, this is Roxanne,” said the voice on the other end.
You smiled at the sound of Roxy’s voice. She was the little sister you had never had -- despite your 11-year age difference the two of you had grown close over the three and a half years she had worked at DiStefano and Associates. “Hi, Rox.”
Roxy said your name. “Oh my gosh, hi!”
“Is this a bad time?”
“For you? Never. Just give me a second.”
You heard Roxy set the phone down and close her office door.
She picked the receiver back up. “Okay, I'm back. What's up?”
“I just needed someone to vent to for a minute.”
“Still haven't replaced me and Tab yet, huh?”
You sighed deeply. “No, and it'd be one thing if they'd at least mention advertising your positions, but I haven't even heard a peep. I'm honestly starting to feel like they aren't even going to bother replacing you, because why go through the trouble of replacing the two people they lost when they can save money by just running me ragged instead?”
“I'm so sorry, I feel terrible leaving you by yourself. Maybe I should have stayed there instead of accepting my position here.”
You shook your head. “Nope. Not hearing that. You worked your ass off in order to earn your master's degree so you could get your dream job in Silicon Valley. You didn't know Tabitha was going to get fired 2 days after you left New York or that DiStefano was going to decide that 1 assistant was enough for all 3 of them.”
“Still, I feel bad leaving you to have to deal with all 3 partners by yourself.”
You rolled your eyes. Despite the fact that she had been absolutely useless, it had almost been worth having Tabitha around just to distract Abbott from hitting on and making gross, sexist comments towards you. “Ugh, yeah. Abbott just ordered me to pick up his dry cleaning while I'm out getting the partners lunch today and called me ‘dollface’.”
“Eww.”
“And DiStefano pulled me into a 3-hour meeting this morning in order to take notes then made a passive-aggressive comment about me not having done the daily bank deposit yet.” You sighed. “At least Williams hasn't sexually harassed or made me feel incompetent yet today, but since the day’s only half over there's still a chance!”
Roxy groaned. “Girl, fuck them. Why don't you just quit?”
You shook your head. “You know I can't, not if I want to eat and keep a roof over my head while trying to help my mom with her hospital bills.”
Roxy hummed. “Speaking of that, how's your other job going? Found you a hot, rich ‘companion’ yet?”
You grinned as you thought about Matt. “Actually, yeah, I have.”
Roxy gasped. “Hey, that's great! So what's his name?”
You bit your lip. Roxy was the only person who knew about your S&S profile -- after all, she was the one who had gotten you to join -- but your contract made it clear that you wouldn't reveal the nature of your relationship with Matt to anyone. “I can't tell you. He wants to be discreet so he had me sign a contract saying that I won't tell anyone about him and me.”
“Ooh, is he a celebrity?”
You huffed out a laugh. “No, he's an attorney.”
“Married?”
“Nope. Or at least, he told me he was totally single.”
“And you believe him?”
You thought about how honest and genuine Matt seemed to be so far. “Yeah. Yeah, I actually do. He doesn't seem to be trying to hide me in particular, just how we really met and what our arrangement consists of.” You paused. “Anyway, it's really new. We met up for coffee on Saturday and had dinner together Monday night. He took me to Okinawa.”
Roxy whistled. “Okinawa? Wow, he must be loaded. When are you seeing him again?”
“Tomorrow night after work, actually. We're going to Casa Italia.” Which was again a very nice restaurant but thankfully wasn't nearl y as expensive as Okinawa.
“Ooh, nice. Fingers crossed that everything works out for you and that he doesn't turn out to be a creep.”
“Thanks. He seems really sweet so far.”
You slowed as you reached the restaurant from which you were picking up lunch. “I gotta run, but thanks for listening.”
“Hey, any time. Let's FaceTime soon, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Rox.”
“Bye.”
You hung up and repocketed your phone, slightly disappointed when you didn't have another text from Matt waiting for you.
Even though your arrangement was strictly business, he made you feel like you mattered -- which was way more than you could say for DiStefano, Williams, and Abbott.
“Hey, how did the emergency hearing go?” Foggy asked as Matt walked into the office.
“The judge granted the retrial,” Matt replied with a relieved sigh. “Now we just have to finish reviewing the rest of the evidence to find everything else we need to get Conrad's conviction overturned.”
He’d had to go to court first thing that morning for an emergency hearing -- a new client of theirs who had been wrongfully convicted of first-degree murder in the double shooting of his former fianceé and her then-husband (who had happened to be a U.S. senator) had been scheduled to be transferred from Rikers to a federal penitentiary in three days, but luckily while reviewing the case Matt had discovered a major discrepancy in what the responding officer had testified to on the stand versus what the police report had stated and managed to convince the judge not only to a retrial, but also to delay the transfer so Matt could have access to his client.
Foggy sighed. “You’d have thought that Sanders would've caught that, especially since his trial notes included what Officer Stanton had stated in his initial report.”
Matt shrugged. He had found in his and Foggy's years of law practice that most of the wrongful conviction cases they had taken on (and won) was because some harried public defender had botched their clients’ cases because of overlooked details (or in more than a few cases, just not caring since they weren't getting paid extra for it). “It happens. Either way I'm sure we'll be able to find what we need.”
“Yeah.” Foggy paused. “So hey, how was your date on Monday? Things were so crazy yesterday that I didn't even get to ask you about it.”
Matt smiled. Even though it hadn't actually been a date he had genuinely had a good time with you and was looking forward to your next evening out. “It was good.”
“And? I want details, man!”
“There really aren't many details to share -- she met me over here, we walked to the restaurant, had a nice dinner, then said goodbye and went our separate ways.”
“That’s it?” Foggy sounded disappointed. “Guess that means no second date then.”
Matt grinned and shook his head. “Actually, we made plans for tomorrow night before we left the restaurant.”
He took his phone out of his pocket and turned it back on. “Which reminds me…”
He waited for it to boot up and smiled when his phone announced that you had replied to his earlier text confirming your plans for dinner.
He tapped at his screen and waited as it read off your reply. “ That sounds great. What time and where would you like to meet?”
He tapped the ‘reply’ button. “ Is 7 PM at the restaurant okay with you?” With the retrial being granted, Matt knew that he would be staying late at the office since he needed to prepare.
“That sounds fine,” his phone dictated when you replied a few seconds later. “I'll see you then.”
“At least tell me about her if you're not going to give me specifics about your date,” Foggy said. “What does she do and is she hot?”
Matt chuckled. “She's an office assistant at an architectural firm not far from here and I really wouldn't know if she was hot, but what I do know is that she's nice and that we have a lot in common.”
“So when can we meet her?”
Matt shrugged. He wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable with his and your arrangement before he introduced you to his friends. “I don't know yet. Maybe in a few weeks? Depends on how things progress.”
He shook his head. “Anyway, let's get busy. We've got a trial to prepare for.”
#lotmf writes#Sweet on You Masterlist#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x you
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