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banjjakz · 10 months

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serial bereavement ; yuuta x gn/f!reader

Every first Thursday for the past six months, without fail, a single plot of ashes has been unlawfully exhumed from the cemetery behind Joenji Temple.

Or: As a rookie hire, you are partnered with Investigations Section 1 Officer Okkotsu Yuuta to investigate a law-defying, bone-chilling, uniquely disturbing case of obsessive love that threatens to shut down the entirety of Shinjuku.

part i. word count: 5.2k

warnings: rating & warnings WILL change; part i of iii; reader is referred to with she/her pronouns & has a vagina & breasts, but is never addressed with gendered titles [e.g.: "ms.," "lady," etc.]; eventual smut that is dubcon at best; horror-romance, in that order; themes of psychosexual horror; side satosugu [non-essential to plot]; i cannot overstate how abnormal this one is, even for me

the content of this fictional work is inspired by the video game "collar x malice" which belongs to the original rightful owners. i do not own or claim to own the rights to the collar x malice franchise. this written work does not represent the intentions, actions, or thoughts of any of the creators/owners of the "collar x malice" franchise.

‪♡‬ read on ao3 ‪♡‬

likes♡ / reblogs ↻ appreciated!

Every first Thursday for the past six months, without fail, a single plot of ashes has been unlawfully exhumed from the cemetery behind Joenji Temple.

The first incident was thought to be a freak accident, one of those strange, wild card crimes that confound local police and commandeer national attention. Pictures of the desecrated grave ravaged internet forums for weeks thereafter, sending chills down the backs of even the most stoutly atheist Japanese youth. An already horrific occurrence worsened all the more with the repeated presence of a seemingly random signature: there, at the bottom of the grave, in the very deepest point of the aged, black soil, laid a folded handwritten note. Upon unfurling the crisp creases, the Shinjuku Police Force Special Crimes Unit discovered that these were actually letters.

Love letters, to be exact.

Presumably penned by the perp, the characters were neat and clean – almost feminine in nature. So strong was the desire imbued into these letters that it seemed as though each individual brush stroke contained one thousand sonnets of unceasing, burning ardor. Clearly, the perpetrator yearned for the attention of their beloved.

That they would go to great lengths – immoral lengths, even – for just a three-minute story on the evening news, all so that their beloved might idly overhear the report as they prepare their dinner, idly chopping radishes to the soundtrack of a violent confession woefully fallen upon their deaf ears…

Well. It makes you squirm. You suppose that’s the point.

As a fresh-faced rookie of the Special Regions Crime Prevention Office, this is your first time on the job in the midst of such a sensational case. At first, your department was unsure how to label these crimes: neither killings nor injuries were incurred, and yet, the spiritual damage effected by the robbing of a Buddhist shrine’s graveyard was somehow worse than any brutal homicide. Eventually, the commissioner labeled these incidents as ��Serial Bereavements” out of respect to the families whose deceased loved ones had been wrongfully removed from their final resting place.

After the first offense, local news stations reported the anomalous crime with a sick sort of fascination. Lovesickness was no foreigner in Japan, and although many screwed their faces up at the morbid displays of affection, so too did just as many turn up the volume on their televisions and lean just a few centimeters closer, eyes glazed with blue light, horror, mortification, and arousal.

After the second and third offenses, it was obvious that a pattern was beginning to emerge. Both incidents occurred on the first Thursday of the month, and both incidents were signed with the same achingly forlorn pages of desperation. In fear of exacerbating the perpetrator, or inspiring copycats, news stations and publications were not permitted to release the contents of the letters.

After the fourth offense, protests began to congregate outside of the Shinjuku Police Station, demanding an immediate and swift correction of the police’s incompetency in addressing the issue. When the first set of ashes had been disturbed, cherry blossoms still clung to the trees. By this time it was July, and the harsh glare of the summer sun beat unrelentingly upon the earth, as though reprimanding its inhabitants.

After the fifth offense, a special curfew was instated for all residents of the Shinjuku ward. No persons for any reason were to be out past eleven o’clock at night. This was punishable by immediate apprehension for questioning. The law was martial, but the law was necessary. Or so the commissioner claimed.

After the sixth offense, the police began looking inwardly, suspecting members of its own ranks. There was no possible way that a civilian could have been able to penetrate the immense security measures installed to secure the Joenji cemetery. Ropes and ropes of caution tape, nearly 24/7 surveillance, and daily K-9 rounds were still not enough to halt the perpetrator in their tracks. This could only mean one thing:

An inside job.

“Scary,” shivers Ieiri, mockingly, lips curled in a sardonic smirk around the length of her unlit cigarette. “You hear they think it’s one of us?”

You regularly have lunch with Ieiri Shoko, director of the Forensics department. She is as caustic as she is jaded, having served in an underrecognized role for far too long, wasting her prolific talents in an obscure government position with little excitement – save for, of course, highly-charged periods of reoccurring atrocities, such as the current case of the Serial Bereavements.

“Don’t even joke. We should be taking this seriously…”

The cooling September breeze has you huddling into your knees a little further. Enjoying lunch on the rooftop was a treat while it was still summer. But now, September has just torn a new page in your calendar and has brought with it an uncharacteristically crisp cold snap. It is Tuesday, the second.

“I’m sooooo serious,” Ieiri says after taking a rather dramatically prolonged drag from the now-lit cig. “Couldn’t be any more serious. Brr.”

Usually, Ieiri’s dry humor is an effective, if transient, salve to your ever-festering anxiety. But today is an exception.

“Please, just think about it for a second... To think that any one of the people we work with every day could be committing such heinous crimes…and for a romantic obsession, no less…it doesn’t frighten you?”

Ieiri exhales smoke, puffing lazily like a sated dragon draped over its hoard. “Nah. I seriously doubt anyone in our ward has the balls.”

Her vulgarity makes you blush. You’ve always been easy to fluster. “Ieiri-san!”

“How many times have I told you to just call me by my first name… jeez.” She ruffles your hair without even an ounce of care for how it makes you groan in consternation. “Too polite for your own good. Someone is going to take advantage of that, one day. And then where will you be? Calling for Ieiri-san to come save you?”

Somewhere, she’s strayed from the path of lighthearted teasing. You still under the weight of her calloused palm, peering curiously up at her through your lashes. “Um…well…”

And as soon as her touch had manifested upon you, just as quickly is it yanked away. “Anyways, call me whatever you like. Not like it matters, anyway.”

“I guess not…”

The rest of your lunch is finished in an unstable silence. Her final, rhetorical question rolls around in your mind, impressing itself upon your malleable brain tissue: Calling for Ieiri-san to save you?

But when would you need saving?

You’re a police officer, after all. You can take care of yourself.

If you couldn’t, why would you serve as an officer in the first place?

;

On the following Monday – the third of September – the director of the Investigations Unit summons you to the fifth floor.

After a polite (terrified) bow, you enter Investigations HQ. “Hello.” Please do not fire me. Please do not transfer me. Please do not publicly reprimand me. Please do not—

“Ah, thank you for coming. Wow, what a deep bow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfectly geometrical ninety degrees.”

Face burning, you avert your gaze to the marble floor. “Ummm…”

You’ve heard that the chief of Investigations, Gojo Satoru was an eccentric fellow, passing in and out as he pleased through the station, hanging off of the director like a second skin. It should come as no surprise that he is here to greet you, today. And yet, still does your thin skin prickle with humiliation, with shame.

Geto Suguru, director of Investigations, cuts in before his partner can continue. “Leave her alone, Satoru. She’s shaking. Are you doing alright today, officer?”

Embarrassed, you nod. Great. It hasn’t even been a full sixty seconds and you’re already embarrassing yourself in front of your superiors.

“Alright, alright. I’ll lay off. Only ‘cuz you asked, though! Hehe.”

“I’ve summoned you today to invite you to join a special taskforce,” Geto continues, unperturbed by Gojo’s wily eyebrow wiggles. “This taskforce will use unique means to investigate the Joenji Serial Bereavements.”

Your blood is paralyzed in your veins, cowed by the enormity of this proposal. “Sir…?”

“In the short amount of time since you’ve joined the Shinjuku Police Department, your conduct has been nothing but outstanding. You’re capable and damn impressive. And frankly speaking, officer, we need a fresh set of eyes on this case.”

There’s nothing else you could possibly say other than: “I would be humbled to join. Thank you.”

“Great, knew we could count on you. We’re keeping the taskforce small for confidentiality’s sake. You’ll be working with one other partner: Officer Okkotsu Yuuta from Investigations Section 1.”

That name… why do you know that name?

Then it hits you: Okkotsu Yuuta is the name whispered through the halls of the police department with awe, envy, admiration, and – occasionally – fear. He is a legendary detective with prowess in both tactical as well as strategical measures. His presence is felt rather than seen, as he is scarcely spotted within the physical walls of the department. However, what does not tangibly appear is nonetheless ever-present in whispered rumors and glamorized notoriety.

“O-Okkotsu-san…” you stammer, taken aback. “But…I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question your judgement, but why have I been chosen to pair with Okkotsu-san?”

“Oh! He specifically requested—”

Gojo’s cheerful sentence is curtailed by a swift elbow to the ribs. While he recovers, Geto finishes the thought, “Okkotsu has requested to be paired with a rookie for this assignment to personally train them. Something about ‘personally ensuring the longevity of the Shinjuku police force,’ or the like. What a do-gooder, am I right?”

“Okay,” you respond, uncertain.

“Your first matter of business will be a visitation to the Joenji graveyard to look for any new leads. You leave in one hour. Okkotsu will meet you downstairs, in front of the building. Good luck!”

In a daze, you bow deeply once more. “Thank you. I will be sure to work hard.”

;

Unsure of what to expect, you linger in front of the armed entrance to the building, trying your best not to shift your weight from foot to foot in an obviously apparent display of anxiety.

It’s not that you’re the type to be starstruck! You are a sensible, no-nonsense, down-to-earth person. Celebrities have never appealed to you much, and idol culture continues to confound you.

In light of this, it’s quite difficult to explain the visceral, full-body reaction you have when you meet Officer Okkotsu Yuuta for the first time.

He is not superbly handsome. Good-looking enough to get street-casted? Sure. With some minor work, he might even be the jewel visual for an up-and-coming boy group. Young and fit, he is the picture of an officer steadily approaching the peak of their hotshot years. Plain, dark hair falls on either side of his forehead in a lopsided part, and his uniform is buttoned and put together, if only a little wrinkled. All in all, he is an average, considerably attractive young man in the Shinjuku police force.

And yet.

Eyes like pools of obsidian tether you to the spot like a spell has been cast upon your bones. Enchanted, your lips part, but no sounds slips through. The intrusive, overstimulating soundtrack of Shinjuku rush hour traffic fades to little more than background noise as your senses are held hostage by the void of quiet, negative space in the shape of a young man that stands in front of you.

His bow is deep and overly formal. He’s technically your superior… and definitely a senior-ranking officer. “A pleasure to meet you,” he announces to the concrete ground “I’m Okkotsu Yuuta, Investigations Section 1.”

“N-nice to meet you, Okkotsu-senpai. My name is—”

The cringe marring his otherwise untroubled face stops your words before his interjection is even voiced. “Ah, um. Just ‘Okkotsu’ is fine. We look to be around the same age, too, so I don’t mind. May I address you casually as well?”

Face burning, brain scrambled, you somehow remember how to speak. You give him an affirmative before pausing, perplexed. How did he know your name already?

Okkotsu specifically requested to be paired with a rookie…

Geto’s words float to the forefront of your mind, soothing your hummingbird heart. Surely, the director and chief of Investigations must have briefed Okkotsu on your file before you were cleared to accompany him on this special taskforce.

Normally, you are woefully naïve, a bumbling but well-intentioned junior officer. The unsettling nature of the Serial Bereavements have pushed you towards an edge you didn’t even know you could reach.

The thought of the assignment weighs down your fresh-faced bashfulness. Suddenly, the afternoon sun is less bright, the heat on your face concentrating into the precursor to a migraine just behind your eyes.

Okkotsu blinks once, twice. “Thank you for working with me on this case. Would you believe me if I told you that I’m a bit of a scaredy cat?”

Your eyes bug out of your head in disbelief. “Um? But you…” His reputation specifically includes the highest number of skillful takedowns, arrest totals, and successful confessions across the entire prefecture. A scaredy cat?

“I know how it looks. It would be quite embarrassing if anyone else knew… but I’m a pretty anxious person.”

With a refocused perspective, your gaze hones in on the smattering of purple bruises underneath his tired eyes which birth a cool webbing of veins sprawling down and out across his pale, gaunt face. You realize that his uniform isn’t actually wrinkled – it just hangs off of his thin frame, tucked intentionally to give off the illusion of a much bigger silhouette.

In him, you see a reflection all too similar: young, ragged, hungry, scared.

It’s not enough to set you completely at ease, but your lungs relax their hold on your bated breath, letting it go as slowly and reluctantly as a child forced to part with their favorite plush toy. “Me too,” you hum. “Um, nonetheless, I will definitely try my best to be helpful. I hope I will not slow you down Okkotsu-se—er, Okkotsu.”

“It’s not about fast or slow.” The service car pulls up and loiters at the curb where the two of you are still lingering. He opens the back door for you. This is the first time a polite young man your age has done that. You try your best to remember that you are literally at work, on the clock, about to investigate an especially morbid case.

Once ensuring you’re comfortably inside, he shuts the door and rounds the rear of the vehicle to slide into the leather seat next to you.

“What matters is that we can rely on each other. Fast or slow, we’re partners now… as long as we finish together, it doesn’t matter the pace.”

He rattles off the address to the department driver after dropping what is possibly the most insightful reassurance you have ever received in your life.

Okay. You can kind of understand why the entire department is obsessed with him.

“R-right. Thank you.”

The rest of the ride is spent in a silence two shades off from comfortable. Nothing is wrong, per se – but the both of your negative energies linger and interact with each other like animals of the same species encountering for the first time.

How odd, you think, to find someone like you, and who is unashamed – eager, even – to admit it. To embrace it.

;

The cemetery is small and would otherwise go unnoticed if not for the dramatic influx in attention following the past few months. Plain and unadorned, neatly kept, with no ostentatious monuments or memorials, as is befitting for the burial grounds behind a Buddhist temple. All in all, the scenery would be somewhat peaceful if not for the six disturbed plots of land where remains were once laid to rest.

This is your first time at the scene of the crime. Your rank is too low to justify visiting this high-profile area without clearance from a supervisor. Now that you’ve been assigned to a taskforce specifically investigating this case, it was necessary that Yuuta took you to observe the scene yourself.

Although there is a total lack of gore or rot, still does the sight of six empty graves provoke within you an acute revulsion. Perhaps it is the absence of any overt suffering, and the oppressing knowledge of the extended waves of unearthed grief spanning across multiple kin networks who must now lose their loved one a second time – this is what inspires the damp, fragile sheen pooling at your waterline.

“Hey,” calls a soft, gentle voice. Yuuta’s timid wave brings you back from your wallowing. “Before we left, I grabbed the letters from forensics. Thought it might be helpful to have while we re-assess the scene.”

Something he’d done entirely for your benefit. Conscious of your lack of experience with the case, you incline your head, grateful. It’s almost as though your gratitude makes him uncomfortable. He averts his gaze and hands over a collection of six plastic-encased papers. Despite their origins within deep, aged earth, each one is pristine.

Steeling yourself, you read February’s letter, the origin of chaos:

My Dearly Beloved,

Did you know that not even the moon and all her stars, nor the sun and all his days, burn as brightly as my heart does for you? There is a certain privilege that I have been blessed with in this lifetime: the privilege to admire you from afar while passing through your stratosphere when it is convenient.

But, unlike you, I am a flawed and impure creature. I am greedy. Each morning, I wake up with a hunger to do more than watch. I want to draw you near to my side. I want to feel your flesh. I want to know what your innards taste like. I want to bathe in your desire. I want to carve myself into your being, forever and ever and ever, so that in the next life, you will be born missing me.

Please look at me. I love you so terribly it defies the laws of life and death. You’ve awoken something within me. I hope you’ll take responsibility.

Nauseous, you shift the letter to the bottom of the pile, hands shaking, head spinning.

“How disturbing…” you can’t stop the words from leaving you, unbidden. “How can someone desire another person in such a way that it permits violence?”

Okkotsu studies you closely. “Do you really feel that way?”

Alarm coils like a snake cornered in the pit of your gut. Sharply, you snap your gaze to his still, calm face. As pallid and pockmarked with depression as the moon herself. “Excuse me?”

“Are you truly disgusted by this kind of love?”

Fighting to ignore your fight-or-flight response, you answer: “I don’t consider this to be love.”

Peculiarly, his face breaks out into a smile, clearing away the lingering cloudy expression. “And that’s why I’m glad we’re partners. I knew you’d have the right idea about this.”

“Most people condemn this crime…”

“But too many sympathize with a false motive,” he volleys back, dark eyes glinting with a strange intensity. “This isn’t a crime of ‘love.’ The perp doesn’t act out of affection. They want to own, subdue, and take what is not theirs. How is that love?”

“Exactly,” you affirm. “To be honest, those connections have always kind of unsettled me…even in shows, or books, or games, I could never look at the obsessive type.”

“Scary, aren’t they?”

This isn’t just a work case for him, you belatedly realize. His tense posture, his imploring eyes, his specification of partner – this is personal. Something about these occurrences strikes a chord deep inside of him, resonating so profoundly that it would not be enough to watch another resolve these crimes; no, Okkotsu is compelled to eradicate the danger completely, uprooting it from the source, destroying the danger with his bare hands, watching it dissipate with his own eyes.

“Mm. I’m glad we’re working on this case together, Okkotsu.”

He offers a small, benign quirk of the lips. “Me too.”

Your partnership progresses steadily from this first encounter.

Most of your daily duties are now fulfilled off-site, accompanying Okkotsu to various locations of interest, following potential leads, and occasionally conducting interviews. It’s been merely two days since the taskforce has been formed, and yet, you’ve been so preoccupied with your new assignment that it completely slips your mind to alert Shoko as to why you’ve been absent from your regular rooftop lunch dates.

You are mortified to open an aggrieved SMS from her on Wednesday morning:

Ieiri-san 08:15Oi. Are you dead

Me 08:16 Ahhhh!! I’m so sorry!!!! A new assignment is taking up a lot of my time. I apologize for not communicating. And for missing lunch. We can eat together today? I can bring you something? Whatever you like! I can make it!

Ieiri-san 08:20 Nah, none of that You’re probably overworking yourself already. No need for extra labor Just meet me on rooftop @ usual time

Me 08:21 Absolutely!!

It is surprisingly difficult to tear yourself from Yuuta’s side, as the two of you have been practically glued together from sunrise to sundown ever since embarking on the special assignment. He is reluctant to let you slip away for lunch, and as a result, you linger past a reasonable time to reassure him that you will be back on time.

When you are finally able to break away from Investigations HQ, you check the time on your phone only to realize that noon has rounded the corner with unanticipated haste. Hurriedly, you make your way to the seventh level of the police station building, embarrassingly conscious of your damp forehead and rapid breath.

“Sorry I’m late!!” Bursting through the metal door, you explode onto the rooftop, cloth-wrapped bento in one hand, and your furiously beating heart in the other.

It’s almost comical, how serene Ieiri looks, unbothered as ever as she leans against the railing with her trademark cigarette weaving in between her restless fingers. “Took you long enough. Been waiting for two days, now.”

“Ahhhh…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You look like you’re about to piss your pants. C’mere.”

Face in flames, you stride over to pop a squat next to her. “I really do apologize, Ieiri-san. These last couple of days have been really hectic…”

“How so? You mentioned a new assignment. When did that happen?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I can talk about it…Investigations personally assigned me…um, not to be impolite or brag or anything! Just, I think it’s a little sensitive in nature, so—”

“Investigations?” She cuts you off, her dull timbre unusually sharp. “You mean those two idiots asked you to handle a highly classified criminal case? During your first quarter? By yourself?”

“Ah!! Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai are quite eccentric, but they are very nice--!”

“No, they are not—”

“—and I’m not by myself! I’m partnered with Okkotsu Yuuta!”

If you weren’t such an anxious person who is well-practiced in the art of overanalyzing the countenance of others, you would surely have missed the way Ieiri’s eyes widen imperceptibly, the way her breath stutters on the next exhalation. She does not look at you for a beat. Two beats. She stares straight ahead at the exterior of the building when asks,

“You’re investigating the Serial Bereavement cases.”

“Ieiri-san…” you whine, head in your hands. “I’m, like, ninety percent sure no one else is supposed to know…”

“What, don’t trust me? Not like I have any friends around here to tell.”

“That’s, well. That’s not the point. Okkotsu mentioned that this was a sensitive matter, so…”

“Just ‘Okkotsu,’ huh?” She peers sideways at you. “No ‘senpai’? Wow, you two sure got comfortable fast.”

“No, please don’t misunderstand! Because honorifics make him uncomfortable, he asked that we speak casually!”

“I asked you the same.”

Her blunt response stuns you silent. It takes you several seconds to produce a response. “Well, yes. But that’s different…Ieiri-san is older…”

“Not by much.” Finally, she lights the cig in her hand. “Hey, let me ask you something.”

“Okay, please go ahead.”

“It was Investigations who put you on the case? Nobody else was involved?”

Hesitation halts your tongue. Mentally, you are transported back to that fateful day, just a little less than forty-eight hours ago, when your new assignment had been unloaded upon you.

“…I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question your judgement, but why have I been chosen to pair with Okkotsu-san?”

“Oh! He specifically requested—”

Gojo was never able to finish his sentence, cut off by Geto’s strategically timed blow. Almost as though the chief was about to reveal something better left unsaid.

You may be a rookie, but you aren’t stupid. There’s a reason why you got this job, after all.

And if you can deduce this much, surely the next conclusion you land on isn’t so far-fetched:

Okkotsu must have personally requested you as a partner.

But the question is…why? You hadn’t been personally acquainted before you’d met outside of the station before heading to your first investigation together. He’s been nothing but kind and respectful – if a little unsettlingly intense, at times, but you think that’s just kind of how he is.

There must be an element that you’re missing from the equation, a piece of the puzzle of which you are not yet aware. It is for this uncertainty that you choose to disclose the truth to Ieiri.

“Okkotsu requested me as his partner.”

Obviously, she asked you for this information because something was dependent upon how you answered. Studying Ieiri’s reaction might be the first step towards unraveling this strange situation.

And react, indeed she does; again, it is quite muted, eroded by years of police work and other unspoken traumas you’re sure lie dormant inside of her mysterious, impenetrable depths. But perhaps it is because of your friendship that Ieiri’s micro-expressions appear to you more as the dramatic admission of feeling that they truly are.

A twitch of the brow, a purse of the lips. Her next exhalation of smoke comes fast and hard, expelled from her mouth in one decisive whoosh of toxic air. Usually, she pays special attention to the wind pattern so that she does not blow smoke in your face. It seems she’s thoroughly perturbed today; the fumes whip you across the cheek and you hack violently in surprise.

Your adverse response snaps her out of the momentary brooding. “Shit, sorry,” she mumbles, quickly removing the cig from her lips and smothering it on the ground. “You alright?”

“J-just fine,” you murmur after one final bout of ear-splitting dry heaves. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

“Shoot.”

“Is it a bad thing that Okkotsu and I are partners?”

Visibly, Ieiri must chew and swallow her initial retort. This is quite unprecedented behavior from the woman with little to no filter on any given occasion. “How are you finding it so far?”

“Well…he’s really considerate. And accommodating. Um, he even revisited the crime scene with me since I’d never been, and he let me read all the letters, too.”

“That’s funny,” says Ieiri, stone-faced. “How did he show you the letters?”

“He said he picked them up from the station before we left. I was quite surprised that he went through all the trouble of doing that, since those kinds of sensitive evidence usually aren’t allowed to leave Forensics…”

“You’re absolutely right. They aren’t.”

“Ah…Okkotsu must have special clearance…?”

“He doesn’t,” Ieiri deadpans.

“…I see…”

Her hands twitch at her sides like she’s itching for another smoke, even though the carcass of her most recent stick still smolders underneath the dagger of her high heel. “Well. You can do whatever you want with Okkotsu. Sounds like you’re in capable, dedicated hands.”

“Huh? Ieiri-san, wh—wait, where are you going--?!”

But before you can finish your panicked inquiry, Ieiri has already blown through the metal door, stomping her way back downstairs to the sixth floor where the Forensics Department awaits her gloomy presence. It’s unlike her to storm off mid-conversation. You’ve never seen her emotions rise above slight annoyance – and that level of frustration is reserved exclusively for the Investigations chief and director. What had you done to provoke even worse of an ire?

Riddled with guilt and anxiety, you wade through the rest of the workday in a foggy, unfocused haze. Okkotsu gives up trying to ask you what is wrong after his third attempt. When you eventually, mercifully fall into bed that night, unshed tears overflow past your clenched, trembling lashes, staining your pillow with sorrows you cannot speak aloud.

Upon waking up, you are granted no reprieve. It is Thursday, the sixth of September. The first Thursday of the month.

You don’t bother with something as trivial as breakfast this morning – not when the thought of what awaits you in the day ahead fills you to the brim with unbearable dread.

Arriving at the police station and getting briefed on the day’s events only confirms your worst fears: there has been another Bereavement at the Joenji graveyard.

This month’s occurrence is twistedly unique.

Accompanying the usual handwritten letter is a fresh, human heart, so red and wet, glistening with fresh gore, that it almost appears to be beating through the still stock photos taken by Field Operations upon first discovery.

Due to your increased status, you are granted clearance to read this month’s note before any other department can get to it. Ieiri is absent from the Forensics office when you rush off the elevator to the sixth floor. One of the interns retrieves the file for you, and you are equal parts eager and terrified to scan its plastic-encased contents.

My Dearly Beloved,

Aimless admiration has thus far sated my yearning soul. Seeing you eat well every day fills my spirit with a sense of completion. I am at ease to watch over you and ensure your wellbeing. But there has been a disturbance. I can feel your increased awareness, like a child opening its eyes to the world for the first time. Coupled with this awareness is a newfound distance between us. Things were going so well. Why now? Why pull away? This can’t be because of me. It must be someone else.

I think I know who.

What must I do to regain your undivided attention? How can I reclaim your primary affections? To experience even an inch of separation, a millimeter of remove, is for my body to undergo countless agonizing deaths.

Will you pay attention to me?

Will you notice me?

Will you choose me?

Look at me.

I serve my beating heart up on a platter just so that your gaze might befall it for the barest of breaths.

Recent events have shown me that I cannot stand idly by any longer while others sneakily and deliberately encroach on our relationship. I’m getting restless. I’ve been waiting quite patiently. Are you as antsy as I am? Soon, you’ll know me as all that I am.

I miss you. I see you every day and I miss you. Come back to me.

Before it’s too late.

270 notes · View notes

goth-mami-writer · 5 months

Text

💙 Reserve 💙

~ (AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader one-shot/drabble

~POV: You're an exotic dancer who is a potential lead on the missing person's case Leon is assigned to. When his chief suggested that Leon provide round the clock supervision for your safety as the case continued …it was the least to say that he wasn't happy.

☆☆☆☆☆

《 “Well-” Leon's boss suggested as they both sat in his office that morning, “I can't put her with one of our married men around here, Kennedy. She's a stripper for God's sake!!”

Leon hung his head in defeat, not wanting to argue with his chief further on how exactly they needed to keep you safe as they caught this perp. He was profiling dancers in nightclubs, and the disappearances just kept coming.

You worked at one of the more lucrative clubs in town, so you knew johns that came and went throughout the night. Your information would lead to a breakthrough in this case. He knew it. But Leon shook his head wondering why he needed to be the one to babysit you.

In his own home?

“Leon, the mayor is on my ass about this-” The chief murmured, lowering his voice when he mentioned the mayor,

“I know it ain't ideal. But just keep her shacked up for a couple weeks, eh?”

He agreed with a heavy sigh and said unamused, “When do I pick her up?”

The chief mentioned that you were already waiting in his office, which meant that this little meeting was more-so a warning than a suggestion. Leon rolled his eyes and stood now to retrieve you.

It wasn't that he disliked you. It wasn't some kind of bad stigma with your career either. In fact it was the opposite. He'd only spoken to you twice and it was easy to say that he was attracted to you. This little infatuation distracted him from his work on the case. Even as he enjoyed your overly friendly attention, he sometimes wondered if it might be some kind of seduction plot just for your own entertainment.

You liked watching him squirm and wince with flattery from your flirts and teases. He knew the redder he grew in the face while next to you, the more joy you'd find in torturing him slowly. But he had a job to do and he couldn't afford any detours in his focus.

He opened the door to his office and saw you sitting in the chair across from his desk. Your long legs were crossed, already in high heels at 9am. Clearly, your hair was wet from a shower, probably from being woken by an early call about this new living arrangement. Even in a thin sleeping slip that your mink coat covered- God you were beautiful. You just didn't need the makeup and club attire.

Your eyes shot up with an alluring, mischievous smile that wadded his insides every time and you purred as you greeted him playfully,

“Mornin’, Roomie.”

He scoffed with a smile and closed his door, knowing he wouldn't need anyone seeing him get flustered just by talking to you. He felt stares already from just hearing your voice inside of his office.

“I take it you heard the plan.” He said, noticing that you came with a duffle bag and a backpack, undoubtedly full of your clothes and other belongings.

“Oh, yeah.” You said bouncing your ankle softly as you spoke,

“Bossman and I hashed it out. I'm not gonna cramp your style, am I?”

He wondered if you were serious with that remark. Tensely, he came close, sitting in the opposite chair to speak to you with what felt to be an urgency about how this living together… thing would work out. He mostly wanted to lay down ground rules about how busy he would be during the day. And how he couldn't have any nighttime temptations to deter him away from work.

You watched as he tensed his hands together, trying to gather words but your attention quickly fell to the eyes that peered into his partition glass. You recognized a few of his coworkers as once paying customers and it made you chuckle softly. Leon watched as you raised your hand up to wave facetiously across the office and he yanked the blinds shut aggravatedly.

He sighed your name with the bridge of his nose pinched stiffly and you shook your head before mentioning the obvious,

“Detective, you're a little inexperienced with ladies, aren't you?”

“I'm not a virgin-” He snapped back defensively in a mutter with his face red.

You gasped to hear that his first interpretation of that mention was about sex. Your catching smile grew at its widest when you finally sized him up just right as to why this new change in setting would be so hard for him,

“Well, I didn't say anything about screwing, honey. That was you. ”

Leon shrunk back defeatedly after realizing he had given his true feelings away just then. He scoffed in surrender and looked at your silent enjoyment of his misery, making him become a little vulnerable.

Truth was, when he spoke to you he was always so strangely…comfortable. You treated him like he was understood and validated in his woes and worries. It was part of the turn-on. Besides the obvious show-girl appeal that he was reluctant to admit that he liked.

When he finally spoke, his words moved slowly with careful emphasis,

“I won't ask you to do this again. But..can we keep this little talk between us?”

You smiled, becoming fascinated by his means of discreteness and you nodded, telling him to be as honest as he liked, you could handle it.

“...I'm gonna fuck up this case if you're bunking with me. I just know it.” He said with softer eyes that begged for you to understand where he was coming from. You smiled to reply now in that playful, come-hither tone that often made him twitch,

“Why is that, detective? Am I a distraction? Come on. It's not like I'm strutting around naked-”

Your eyes narrowed in to antagonize him but he didn't falter when he replied with words that froze your playmate demeanor from moving any further.

“-You don't have to be.” Leon said before you finished your thought,

“You look at me, and I'm distracted.”

He thought in that fleeting moment of the first time he saw you. After speaking with him on the phone, you invited him down to your club for a one-on-one about the goings-on that could lead to a break in potential suspects.

He felt dirty walking into a gentleman's club, even a high-end one. Especially when he had to ask for one girl in particular using a rather salicious stage name. But when you crossed the floor, he realized that this couldn't have been something he regretted.

You were cunning and witty. Obviously, you knew the ins and outs of conversation. He couldn't play into the back and forth, but God, he wanted to tell you that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever talked to. Even about nothing more than the case.

You felt your jaw drop for a different reason now. Secretly, you expected some half-cocked fantasy of what he wanted to do with you when he took you home. Not this. Not this softness and sincerity. You shifted uncomfortably now, but only because that chord struck differently than the others.

The truth was…it wasn't an act. You didn't put on bedroom eyes to play your part in being the warmly erotic, street-smart dancer that was too good at her job. Leon was desirable. Not just handsome or intelligent. Your very feminine nature made you pursue him for his level headedness and maturity almost as if it was instinctive. As if even your insides knew he was a good man.

You leaned forward now to match his discreet manner and motioned with a finger for him to do the same.

“Is it my turn for secrets?” You asked in a soft murmur as you stared right into him.

He smiled, being quiet for you to tell your side of the situation,

“Every night that I work, I always have men tell me how bad they want to sleep with me and air out their dirty little secrets about me. But you know what I really like in a man? Something that I can't find in a room full of them?”

Leon felt his eyes focusing in and he asked what it was. But you waited. You knew how you wanted to answer but it was something you didn't want to tell him.

You wanted to show him.

You stood from your chair, not letting a sound escape from your throat other than the breath of courage it took to do this to a cop. One that wasn't paying for it, at least. Your knee planted down beside him before you straddled his waist entirely, letting yourself now gently sit in his lap to face him.

This was always the position you assumed right before a lap dance, and Leon tried not to gasp when you became so close. He could smell your sweet perfume - feel the warmth of your body.

You felt his chills and saw the breath he shakily let go of. It was a face you saw everyday. But his bothered expression was far from a dime a dozen. It was a work of art to see before you now. Your hands slid up his arms, your middle finger dragging against his sleeved shirt to feel the soft tone of muscle and brawn below. He must have been a masterpiece naked but you put that to the side for the sake of your own bothered expression appearing.

Leon's pulse throbbed but his hands remained on the arms of his chair as you touched him. He swallowed heavily and kept his eyes with yours, trying his best to judge what exactly you were doing. It felt so real. But was it? Nothing could have brought it on. Was it a test?

His eyes searched in yours to find the answers to the questions that were surmounting as his blood turned hot, flushing his face when your hand gripped at the choke of his satin tie, loosening the bind from his collar. He huffed in want when you looked to his mouth, leaning in for what he prepared to be a kiss but he closed his eyes, not leaning forward to meet your lips.

"She knows I'm at work. She knows I can't do this. This is a test.” Leon thought behind his closed eyes as your lips brushed against his with the same gentleness as a breath.

You opened your mouth, wondering if you could entice him to move- to follow his want for touch when a girl like you was perched in his lap.

You made one last move to prove your jagged point and you said breathily with what you knew to be a voice latent with desire,

“Touch me, Leon.”

You watched his hands remain still, glued to the chair practically and his eyes were begging you to have mercy on his needs.

He answered, firm and calculated in a grunt,

“No-...No.”

“There it is.” You said warmly in his ear, confirming to him that this was in fact nothing more than just a little test of his nature.

“Reserve. That's the sexiest thing a man can have for me. Men tell me that they'd scream from the rooftops to sleep with me. But I've been looking for the one that'd watch his hands shake just by the thought of it.”

Leon's heart drummed in realization that the feeling was mutual when he looked down to his trembling hands. Of course he'd never touch you for his own gratification alone. Even if you performed for money. He wanted you in ways that went so far beyond seeing you naked in a dark room. It was an attraction. But lust was merely the surface.

He was unsure still if he should try to make a move but your weight shifted. He sighed in relief when you climbed down from his chair, returning to your own with a small chuckle to his spent expression as he readjusted his tie.

“I hate to rush- but 9 in the morning is the middle of the night for a night owl like me. Think I can go ahead and get a tour of where I'll be sleeping?”

Leon still needed a second to recover from that rush of adrenaline but he nodded with a sigh,

“Yeah, I'll get you home. I'll make up the guest room for ya.”

“Aw-” You mentioned with a playful act of disappointment as you gathered your bags when he opened the door to his office- en route to the car,

“No room in your bed? I'll scoot over?”

“Don't-” He said, trying not to laugh, feeling that involuntary smile find his mouth. You'd caught on that he enjoyed the teasing, but just how much was something he'd still like to keep under wraps.

For now at least. There was a still a case to solve.

“Don't push it, okay?” 》

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#leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy au #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil #drabble #one shot

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 6 months

Text

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three

TW: forced proximity, restraints, unequal power dynamics, sexual harassment

Officer Ludlow makes his way into your examination room not once but three times in the following two weeks. Once for torn stitches again. Once for broken glass embedded in his arm. (He seemed pissed about this, so you actually believe that a perp broke a window he was on the other side of, and he didn’t do it on purpose), and the third time for deep bruising and cracked ribs after taking a 9mm bullet to his flak vest.

The thought that he might have done the latter on purpose terrifies you. They’re a great precaution but bullet proof vests do not prevent all the damage from a bullet. You can still get seriously hurt. So naturally, as you’re wrapping his ribs, you’re more than a little pissed off.

“This had better have been an accident,” you grumble, forced in close quarters while you have to reach around his ridiculously broad chest with the bandage. You can’t help but notice at this point of his shift that the brain-addling addition of his own sweat and musk added to that edible fucking cologne makes for a near weapon of mass destruction on his skin. It should be illegal, for what it does to your insides.

“What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

“As a healthcare professional? Yes, this worries me. It could have been a lot worse.”

“If only I had incentive to be more careful…” he muses with a smirk, his stupidly handsome face just inches from yours.

“Are all cops this fucking creepy?” You purposefully brush his side a little too hard and reign triumphant when he grunts in pain.

Kinda like shooting a bear with a handgun - it just makes him mad.

He catches your hands again, only this time he uses the bandaging already wrapped around his torso to bind your wrists. He’s too quick for you to pull away, tethering you up with those beautiful hands that seem far too bulky to be this dexterous, tugging you forward so you’re more than a little cramped. You don’t think you can get any closer until he spreads his thighs and you fall right into the trap.

You have to crane your neck to avoid being cheek to chest with him, feeling so fucking tiny and useless and enveloped. It pisses you off. It makes you burn with involuntary, awful want.

“My little nurse speechless?”

You try to glare at him, but it resembles more of a pout.

“God,” his voice drops lower if that’s even possible. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You want to jump off the roof for the thick, high choke of your tone. “You didn’t even ask me if I have a boyfriend.”

“Cuz I don’t fucking care if you do or not.”

“Well I do,” you lie. “And he’s gonna kick your ass.”

He snorts. “And I’m gonna let him so his girlfriend has to patch me up.”

“Fuck you.” You are seething with rage at this point, powerless, helpless, fucked in the head for somehow liking it.

“Mm. What would you prefer? Fingers? Tongue? Cock?” He makes you gasp with a sharp tug at your makeshift bondage and that lewd word in his handsome mouth. “Yeah, that one?”

“You’re going to get me fired.” You don’t know why you keep trying to appeal to his rationality and humanity, when both seem to not even be in his vocabulary.

“That’ll free up your schedule so you can spend more time tied to my bed.”

You’re terrified he can somehow feel the violent clench of your lower body.

Maybe god does exist, but he has a fucked sense of humor. Your pager buzzes loudly from your scrub pocket as the automatic “CODE BLUE CODE BLUE CODE BLUE” goes off over the loudspeaker.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” To his credit, and, let’s be honest, you’re super reluctant to give him credit right now, Tom loosens up on your wrists and lets you go attend to the patient currently in cardiac arrest.

#keanuverse #keanuverse fic #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #Julia is fucking amazing at collages #street kings

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shelbgrey · 11 months

Note

Can you please do one with Seeley Booth with the writing prompt being 0.7 (“he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”) tumblr is starting to run dry on bones imagines and I think you would make a great story with this prompt. Please?

In the name of love (Seeley Booth)

Paring: Seeley Booth x Hodgins!Reader

Prompt: 0.7) “he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”

A/n: sorry this took so long and that is got pretty long. Also I had to switch the roles in the prompt for it make since.

MasterList

In the end I couldn't really tell you how we ended up in this situation, all battered up and in fear what the Bureau would say when they find out me and Lance let the perp go. But most of all I was afraid what Seeley would say when he saw the both of us. I got the shortest end of the stick, busted face and knuckles and my ribs were aching somthing fierce.

Fear in Lance's eyes only intensifies when Seeley's name pops up, trying to call me. “it's Seeley”

I hand Lance the phone so he could talk to him. “he'll know something is up if I talk to him” my voice was horse already and I was shaking from the resent beat up.

Lance gulped and took the phone to talk to Seeley while he drove through the city. “H-hey b-booth we got a situation” I sighed as Lance immediately cracked pressure. Do to the lack of music or sound in general in the car I could vaguely hear Seeley on the other side of the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. What’s going on, what the hell happened?” Seeley asked from the other side of the phone.

I quickly shook my head no at Lance as he continued to talk to Seeley through my phone. Lance gulped and continued to drive while talking to Seeley on the phone “this isn't really phone conversation material... Are you at your office?” Lance asked with a hint of nervousness.

There was silence on both ends of the phone, Lance glances over at me nervous as Seeley hesitates on the other side of the phone. “Yeah, I am. What are you talking about? And where the hell did you go? We were supposed to bring Fredrick Batmen in today”

Fredrick Batmen so that's this name, at least I know the name of the guy who put a couple of dense in me. I looked over at Lance, shaking my head. We weren't supposed go out by ourselves. We both only just got our license to carry a weapon when we assisted the FBI.

“umm...” Lance said looking at me quickly then back at the road. I threw my pounding head back on the head rest of the car as Lance continued to lose his cool.

“hang up the phone lance” I said softly so Seeley didn't hear me on his side of the phone.

“umm....” Lance said as Seeley spoke on the phone, he looked at me in a panic. Huh, I've never seen a psychologist lose their cool before.

I could hear Seeley getting frustrated on the other side of the phone “Hey, Sweets. Just tell me what the hell is going on?”

Lance took a deep breath and regained his composer “I'm almost the Bureau... I'll explain when I get there” he said through the phone to Seeley.

“No, no, no. Listen... you want to tell me what's going on and you want to tell me right now” Seeley says as bit louder, making the conversation clear to my ears.

“Umm...” Lance and I both prayed that Seeley didn't ask for me.

I could hear Seeley sigh in frustration on the other side of the phone “Come on, Sweets, you are starting to piss me off here.”

“This is something you don't want to hear on the phone and as a psychologist I should have the right to say on behalf of your temper and mental health” Lance thought he was gonna win this conversation I on the other hand had been best friends with Seeley for a long time and I knew Seeley doesn't give up especially if phycology gets thrown in.

“Yes... He definitely gonna listen now” I sighed as I wrapped a hankerchief tighter around my bloody nuckles. “we're doomed” I mumbled as I heard Seeley saying Lance shouldn't bring up phycology now. I thanked God when Lance got closer to the Bureau.

Seeley then started shouting at Lance, which was rare thing for him rase his voice at me or Lance. “you are making this worse! Just tell me what is going on right now!”

I slapped my forehead in frustration, as much as I cared for lance and he was indeed like a little brother he was being pretty stupid. “For Pete's sake” I sighed and weakly snatched the phone “Seeley! Hey buddy, like Lance said we're on our way and you making Lance nervous isn't helping the situation... I'm gonna hang up now and we'll fill you in when we get to your office”

“No, no, no. Don't hang up!” Seeley started, he then hesitates. “I know you are hiding something, I can tell by your tone. Just tell me what the hell is going on so I can stay calm”

“Just stay calm anyway” I said softly and hung up the phone before Seeley could protest anymore. I hung up the phone and looked at Lance “your terrible at lying, especially to Seeley” I sighed as Lance pulling into the Bureau's parking lot.

“sorry” Lance mumbles as he puts the car in park. I winced at the pain in my ribs when I tried to clime out of the car. I sighed and slouched back in the passenger seat, it felt like dozens of kitchen knives beening stabed into my side.

I terned to Lance with pain in my eyes “Help me will ya?” Lance quickly nodded and climed out of the car, racing to the passenger door. “easy, easy” Lance mumbles as he slowly helped me out of the car and supported me by puting on of my arms on his shoulder as we both slowly walked into the FBI building to Seeley's office.

Lance walked me to Seeley's office and enters without knocking. With the windows suronding the door of the office Seeley could see us limping in before we even entered the small room.

Seeley quickly shot up from his office chair and raced to the both of us “What the hell happened to you, n/n?” asked softly as he helped Lance set me down in the leather chair infront of his desk.

“Oh you know the usual” I winced when I tried to relax in the chair. “I'm gonna get the first-aid kik” Lance quickly said and left to get the supplies from his office.

Seeley leaned against his desk, standing in between the chair I was seeing in and his desk. Fear plastered his face as he stared down at me “what the hell happened to you?” you could tell he was trying not to freak out, which was an emotion he hated having.

Lance quickly came back to Seeley's office and handed the first-aid kit to Seeley. “thanks Sweets, I got this” he said motioning that he's clean up my cuts himself. Lance nodded and gently padded my shoulder before he left.

I sighed and looked a Seeley, I took a deep breath and started to explain everything. “me and Lance left to get the guy in custody, the Batmen dude... We got in a fight and he got away” I looked down at my busted knuckles as tears pooled my eyes, it stinged when I rubbed my hands together nervously “I'm sorry I let him get away” a tear fell done my cheek quicker then I lost my cool.

Seeley's eyes softened as he knelt infront of the chair I was setting in, he gently takes my bloodied hand in his massive ones. “it's okay” he whispered softly she wipe a splatter of blood off my chin. “Don't worry about that. I'm just glad you two are alright. We'll catch him another time. It's okay.”

I looked up as his soft eyes and let out a shaky breath. I could tell he was hiding his anger as he cleaned my cuts. I knew he wasn't mad at me but at the guy we've been chasing, I could see his jaw clinching as he cleaned up my face with the stuff from the first-aid kit “I'm sorry Seel” I mumbled again.

Seeley take's my chin and slowly lifts my head so we're looking at each other. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You. Hear. Me?” he said, making tears prick my eyes once they met his brown ones.

Seeley softly smiled and wiped the tears runing down my face “It's going to be okay. I promise. How bad are you hurt?”

I didn't want to worry him anymore, so I shook my head and nervously chewed on my busted lip. Seeley gently pulled my bottom away from my teeth as I responded “not bad”

Seeley smirks softly but still gives me a 'yeah right' look “You have blood on your shirt, blood on your face, bruises on your face. I mean Lance is the psychologist, but I'm pretty sure that counts as bad” he said as he cleaned the cut on my forehead “Where else you hurt?” he asked again.

I tried to reassure him, but when I tried to adjust in the chair I winced when the sharp pain in my ribs came back. Out of instinct my hand fell to my waist trying to put pressure on it.

Seeley looked down as after he put a bandge on my forehead. “your rib? Is it your ribs?” he asked softly.

“Let me see” Seeley mumbled and gently lifted my shirt up just a little bit. I winced when my shirt and his fingers brushed up against it. I also couldn't help but blush when his large hands pushed my shirt up reveing my bruised body.

He sighed softly as his eyes held nothing but concern or disappointment. “yeah... you are hurt pretty bad” he look at me and all my injuries, then look down and away. You could see the red tint in his skin as the anger boiled in side him at. He was Really, Really, Angry now. Seeley sighed.

“I'm okay Seeley” I said in a serious tone, I knew he didn't believe me and honestly I didn't know if I believed me either.

“Iet me see your hands” he mumbled as he grabbed a fresh cotton ball and the bottle of alcohol. I wined softly as he cleaned my knuckles. “i know, I'm almost done” he whispered, he looked like he was trying to bottle up every negative emotion possible right now. I could only imagine what he'd do when he crosses paths with the perp.

After he cleaned my knuckles, he gently wrapped the up and then kiss my hand. I blushed at the small gesture. It felt different then the other times we've touched, I'd admit we're pretty touchy as best friends go and it was probably no secret to anyone that I had a crush on him, but I couldn't stop but melt when his lips touched me.

“Look at me, alright? Can you look at me?” Seeley asked, taking my bruised face in his hands”

“hm?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

I don't think either of us were prepared for what happened next. Seeley slowly lean in, with his hand on my cheek then kisses me on the lips softly. It took me by surprise, but once I registered what was happening I melted into the kiss, placing my bandage covered hand on his jaw as I gently deepen the kiss dispite the pain in my busted lip. I never wanted the kiss to end, but the sting in my lip made me pull apart gently.

Seeley look at me with a dopey smirk. “you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that” he whispered as he rested his forehead on mine, breathing hard. He looked at me, all bloody, swollen face, then kisses my lips again once more, softer than the first, but just as passionate. I leaned into the kiss My hands run through his hair.

“Your not gonna let me in on a case for a while, are you?” I joked as rested my forehead on his and I nuzzled my noise against his.

He shook his head, slightly smiling. “Never in a million years. I'm not letting you get hurt on my watch again.”

“guess that's what a squint gets for leaving that lab and doing FBI stuff” I joked.

Seeley chuckled and rolled his eyes. “anything eles hurting?” he asked softly as he rubbed my arms in a comforting way.

“I'm okay” I kissed his nose softly “you patched me up pretty good already” I smiled, but I couldn't hide the wince I made due to my ribs hurt after I shifted in his lap.

Seeley notices immediately. “What is it? Your ribs” he asked, I nodded softly. “It's just bruised... I'll put some ice on it or something when I get home” I said looking down.

Seeley takes my chin and our eyes locked. “y/n, I'm your best friend. So please, listen to me for a minute, okay? You hurt your ribs pretty bad today. You need to let the med techs look at you, please?” his eyes held so much plea and his voice was laced with pure desperation.

I sighed and rested my forehead on his. I kissed his lips softly and quickly. “you know I don't like doctors” I mumbled... He knew that, that's why I chose to come to him instead of the med clinic after I got beat up.

“know, n/n. I know, But It'll just a quick check-up. don't worry. Please?” he stared at me with brown puppy eyes as he softly held my face in my hands. I couldn't ignore his silently beg for me to get help at the clinic.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “I guarantee my ribs are just bruised... I'm a doctor too ya know”

“your a Forensic Entomologist... A bug girl” Seeley said in a serious tone as he helped me stand up, slowly and easy. “It's still a doctor though” my argument ended with a wince.

Seeley looks at me sternly for a moment. “Promise me, y/n, that you'll listen to the medical staff at the Bureau. Okay? Promise me.”

I sighed and looked at his brown eyes, I loved them so much. “promise....”

Seeley gently helped me walk to the door so I didn't irritate my ribs anymore. “aren't you the one who went to work with a screwed up back even though the doctor told you to stay home?” my joking tone turned into a wince when I held on to his bicep as I walked towrds the med clinic with him.

Seeley looked down and playfully rolled his eyes “Okay, you got me there... But, in my defense, I was going a little stir crazy being at home after a week.” I chuckle as he kiss me on the forehead to ease the pain.

“We're here, n/n. Let's get this over with and I'll take you home, okay?” Seeley mumbled as we exited the elevator that led us to the floor that had the med clinic.

the doctor came out of her office and smiled softly “Come on in Dr. Y/n Hodgins” she lead me and Seeley to one of the rooms, Seeley helped me up on one of the examination beds as the doctor looked at her clip board.

The doctor examined my ribs, I winced when she hit the wrong spot “a couple of your ribs are broken... But I'd like to take in x-ray” the doctor said. I looked over at Seeley and he looked angrier than before.

“I guess we'll get you an x-ray and some pain meds in ya” Seeley said. the doctor looked up and gave the both of us a soft expression.

“I'm afraid so” she looked up at Seeley “you'll have to wait in the waiting room unfortunately” the doctor told Seeley.

“okay, sure” Seeley said and then gently take my. “I'm gonna be right outside that door if you need me, okay?”

I nodded and Seeley kissed my forehead before going outside.

-------(Seeley's pov)-------

Before I exit the room, I smile at her. But then once I am out of the room, my expression turns serious as I sit down in the waiting room and anxiously await the results of her xray. I leaned forward in the chair and tapped my foot anxiously. The more I thought and tapped, the angrier I got. My jaw ticked and I covered my face with both of my hands.

“How is she?” Sweets asked, walking up to me with his hands in his pockets. I removed my hands and looked at him, I just now noticed he had a few cuts and bruise of his own, he wasn't as bad as y/n though.

“her ribs are broken, the doc is getting X-rays now.” I don't look up at Sweets as he looked just as worried. The panic in his eyes made me think about how I always thought she would choose Sweets inset of me. I never have thought she'd feel the same way I feel about her, that kiss changed everything and it couldn't have happened at a worser time.

I think Sweets could see the anger boiling inside me as I sat there. No amount of psychology could help the anger I was feeling. Sweets sighed, I knew he was hiding something. I looked up at him waiting for him to share whatever he was hiding. “they cought the guy... The guy that hurt y/n... Aubrey just brought him in” I immediately dart up from my seat, running on nothing but anger, Sweets grabed the sleeve of my suit jacket, pulling me back “don't do anything stupid” he said in serious tone. I didn't know why he said it, Sweets knew I would do it anyway.

I jerked my arm out of his grip and turned my back on him and head towrds the interrogation room. “I'm definitely gonna do something stupid” I mumbled as speed walked down the hallway.

I take a deep breath and walk into the interrogation room. I look up and see the guy, sitting across the table from me, with a huge smile on his face. He looks cocky, arrogant. I glare at him. And for a moment, I don't see what I can do to the guy. And then a smile slowly creeps across my face, He's not leaving this room. The interrogation has just begin.

“I'm getting tired of seeing you guys sniffing around my life” the guy says in a gruff tone, he gave me a creepy smirk. “expect for the girl... She was a cute little thing” he mocked as he referred to y/n. The man was twice her size, meaning he probably had no problem beating her. But that didn't mean he didn't look like hell, y/n put up one hell of a fight. His face was all busted up, worse than y/n's was and he was holding a gallon bag of ice on his groin.

When I look at the guy and I can barely contain my anger. I lean forward on the table and put my elbows on it. “Look, pal. Here's how it's gonna be. You hurt my partner, My best friend. You broke her ribs. I could care a less what you did before this. But you did this And for that, you're not gonna see the light of day ever again”

The guy just smirked and let out a laugh. “You think you scare me?” I glared at him, he just didn't understand the hole he dug himself in.

“You don't scare me, man” the guy said in a gruff voice, he leaned forward and smirked. “why get interrogated by you when I could get questioned by your cute little partner”

I scolded myself when the guy now knew y/n was my soft spot, my weakness and if he wanted to get under my skin he knew to bring her up. He knew what he did to her and he didn't care.

My jaw clintched with rage. “Hey. You shut your goddamn mouth when you speak about my partner. Do you understand?” I say, not breaking eye contact. The guy continues to smirk. He knew he was pushing my buttons and he was loving it. I can feel the anger boiling in my veins.

“She's got some fire in her and put up a good fight but it wasn't hard to get her to the ground” the guy chuckled darkly.

I stand up out of my chair. “you think you're funny, huh? I said for you to shut your goddamn mouth. I ask the question!” My hands clench into fists. I look like I am about to snap.

“If it means seeing her again I'll do it again” the guy leaned forward expressionless. “maybe next time I'll get my hand around her pretty little throat”

“I have had it.” I said threw my teeth, can't take it anymore. I grab the guy by the collar, pushing him against the wall and start to beat his face in. One, two, three punches directly to the nose and the jaw. I look into his eyes with rage and hatred. “That is for hurting my partner.”

Three more punches land on his face, making him fall to the chair in his own pool of blood. I stare at him. “That was for threatening to hurt her again.”

that's when Sweets and Bones came rushing in and separated me and the guy, I struggled in Sweets' arms trying to swing another punch towrds the guy “Booth stop” Sweets grunted as he and Bones tried to pull us apart.

I tried my hardest to get loose from Sweets' grip. “Let go of me! Let go of me!” I scream. But Sweets had a tight hold on me.

My anger had blinded me. I was out of control. “let's go” Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room “your gonna get in a lot of trouble, you relize that?” Bones said. I didn't give a damn especially since it involved y/n.

“I don't care! I do NOT care right now. This guy was threatening to kill y/n!” I scream out, still fighting to break free from Sweet's grip “I would do it again in a heartbeat. You hear me?! You hear me?!”

“Booth, I understand your anger, but right now the best option is to calm down” Bones said calmly.

tears fall down my cheeks and anger bored in to my eyes as Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room. My knuckles were bruised and bloody from the fight. But I didn't even notice them.

Sweets and Bones shared looks “Dr. Brennan, please tell Caroline what happened... Explain y/n was asulted and Booth acted strictly on self defense”

Bones immediately leaves the room as I continue trying to break free from Sweets “Please, Sweets. Just let me go. I don't care about the God-damned consequences. I just need to let this out. I just need to let my anger out.” I look angry but then I look sad and scared at the same time. I don't know what to feel at this point.

Sweets pushed me towards his office where he did most of his therapy sessions. I was bigger then Sweets but some how he manged to shove me into his office. “your girlfriend isn't goona like it when she leaves the med clinic and finds out you lost your FBI license because you beat a guy to death”

Sweets set down in his chair and pointed to a shelf with a bunch of books and fidget stuff. “break what you want...take your anger out”

I walk over to the shelf and grab a stress ball and a book. And then I come back to the chair. I sit down and start squeezing the stress ball. I don't say anything as I continued to squeeze the stress ball harder and harder. The stress ball is about to pop.

“she's not my girlfriend” I mumbled, as much as I wanted her to be it wasn't the time to bring it up... Even if we did kiss.

Sweets rested his cheek on his as he watches the stress ball pop in my hands “I think you better tell her that”

“what are you taking about?... What?” I asked confused as I grab another stress ball and squeeze it. I continue to squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible.

“only love makes you that crazy” Sweets replies. The stress ball popped in my head. “you said I could break stuff not get a therapy season” I said.

“Your not gonna get in trouble Booth. The guy as multiple accounts of asulting woman and now murder is on his track record... There's no fights it's our word against his” Sweet said.

I crushed another stress ball, this time I throw it on the ground in frustration. “he hurt y/n and you were making sure it never happens again... The guy already has life in prison for the murder case we were solving” Sweets says softly.

I throw my stress ball against the wall and I grab another one. I squeeze harder and harder. “But, you know I could've handled this differently” I squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible so much so that it hurts my hand. “I mean, I did not have to beat him up like that. He did not need my knuckles buried deep in his face. I could've shown restraint.” I grumbled.

“Booth, no one blames you”

“I should've handled it differently... I could've controlled my anger.” I squeeze the stress ball harder and harder to the point that my knuckles are bleeding. “I didn't do the right thing. I let my anger get the best of me” I am squeezing the stress ball so bad that I don't even realize the blood on my hand.

My phone suddenly rings, so I take out my phone and answer it. “Hey, y/n” I say, sounding worried and anxious. “Are you okay? How are you doing?”

“I'm alright, but I have to stay home for awhile because of my stupid rib... Are you okay? You sound weird” she asked through the phone worried.

“yeah, I am... What's up?”

“Can you come back to med clinic and get me please?” she asked softly, she still sounded worried though.

“Sure, no problem” I say through the phone. “Just let me finish up here and I will be right there.” I look over at Sweets. I feel guilty for taking my anger out.

“I'll be about... fifteen minutes. Okay?” I hang up the phone and immediately left Sweets office with a quick goodbye.

-------(1st pov)-------

I'm waiting for Seeley in the waiting room outside of the med clinic, as I am I stare at my pain meds with a bord expression.

“Hey n/n. How are you doing, sweetheart?” Seeley asked walking over to me slowly. I get up and wrap my arms around him, trying not to disturb my ribs. “I'm so happy to see you right now” Seeley mumbled against my shoulder.

“What happened to you?” I asked worried as I noticed his knuckles were all red and bruised. He quickly shook his head no. I gently left his arms and gave him a stern expression “what happened to your hands? And don't tell me nothing”

Seeley look down at his hands and then back up at me. “Well, I am not proud of this... But I beat up the guy that hurt you. You know, the one that broke your ribs”

I let out a deep breath and gave him a soft look. “oh Seeley” I looked at him with no judgment as I placed my bandaged covered hand over his cheek and rubbed it softly with my thumb.

Seeley nuzzles into my touch and take a deep breath and slowly open his eyes. “Look, n/n. I... I was wrong... I shouldn't have done that. I am not proud of it in any way. It just happened and I didn't think I could control it.” Seeley mumbles as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

I quickly wipe away the tears as they fall, I kissed his forehead and wrap my arms around him, hoddling him tight not caring about my broken ribs. “Shh... It's okay” I whispered as I ran my fingers through his short hair.

“I love you” he blurts out. I leaned out of his arms and looked up into his eyes suprised. “I'm s-”

“I love you too” I whispered and pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw us.

#Seeley Booth #Seeley Booth x reader #Seeley Booth imagines #Bones imagines #david boreanaz x reader #Bones TV show #Bones x reader #James Aubrey x Sister!reader #Prompts #David Boreanaz #Bones headcanons #seeley booth headcanons #Agent Booth #Agent Booth x reader #Agent Booth imagines

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

Note

hii!! can i request ts midnight prompt: 21) You and I ended up in the same room, with Nolan Price? 💕

Tagging: @kmc1989 @topmagtiger @ireadfanfictionontheweekends @flopiboni @evee87

References to How We Met - Nolan reflects on your relationship.

There’s one bed. Nolan was expecting at least twin singles but right now he finds himself staring at a queen sized mattress in a shitty motel room trying to puzzle out his next steps.

“I’ll take the floor.” He says as he props his rolling suit case up against the door.

It’s been a long drive from the city, you’d handled the majority of it while he read and then re-read through the case file in the car. He has to go up against a judge tomorrow, argue jurisdiction because your perp not only killed in New York, he also killed in New Jersey too and they’re being territorial.

“Nolan.” You say firmly as you set your holdall down on the bed. “We’re both adults. I’m not letting you sleep underneath your suit jacket on this very dubious carpet.”

You aren’t wrong about the carpet, it’s sticking to his shoes.

You shower while he unpacks his clothes. He listens to you sing to yourself as he hangs up the drycleaner’s bag containing his suit on the curtain rail. He can’t help but smile at how oddly domestic this whole scenario feels. Though if he were taking you away it would be to a B&B in the Catskills, not this God forsaken place.

Nolan rubs his hands over his tired features, he isn’t even sure why he’s thinking about that. He’s been thoughts like this ever since the night you fell asleep in his office. Things had changed between the two of you since then, you’d brought him an apology coffee, shared a breakfast pastry and from then on he was smitten because he’d caught a glimpse of the real you. The pretty detective who’s just as dedicated to justice as he is.

He’s tucked in bed by the time you leave the bathroom, the latest Dan Brown clasped between his hands. His gaze flickers up as you close the door behind you and his heart just stops because the sight of you in an oversized Six t-shirt and boy boxers is just the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life. It’s in that moment Nolan realises just how much he wants this, not the sex but the intimacy of being with someone who knows you, who cares about you.

“I didn’t know you were a fan.” You remark, gesturing at the book as you climb into bed alongside him. He can feel the heat of your body rolling off you as you settle beside him, your cheek pressed to the pillow.

“It’s escapism.” He tells you as he sets the book down on the nightstand and lies down beside you, looking into your eyes. “The closest I’ll ever come to being a treasure hunter.”

“Is that what little Nolan wanted to be when he grew up?” You ask him, your lips curving up into a small smile.

It unlocks something deep inside him and in that moment there is nowhere else he would rather be than this rundown motel in New Jersey.

“And an astronaut.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders. “I had lofty goals from a young age and I was obsessed with space, still am actually. I have a year round pass to the observatory.”

His cheeks colour as he tells you that last part because he realises he’s revealing something he’s never told anyone before. He doesn’t share his private life with his colleagues, he likes to keep the two world separate.

“Your turn.” He says, clearing his throat. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

You purse your lips together for a second before saying.

“This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with someone in years.”

That does surprise him, you must see it in his features because an apricot flush creeps across your cheeks.

“It’s been a long time for me too.” He finds himself telling you.

He’s had liaisons on and off over the past few years but they always leave or he does. Noone spends the night. Somehow the time he’s spending with you right now is far more intimate than any of the sex he’s had.

“Do you miss it?” You ask him. “Being that way with someone else? Being held by them?”

There’s such a vulnerability in you right now, you’re sharing a part of yourself with him and it’s only fair that Nolan does the same.

“Yes.” He says honestly. “The life I lead… it’s lonely.”

You understand that, he can see it in your eyes. The job you do, the one you did back in the Bronx, he understands how it can create a disconnect.

“We don’t have to be lonely tonight.” He whispers. “Not if you don’t want to.”

His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer. You feel so good pressed against him, the perfect fit against his muscular form.

“Nolan.” You say quietly, your fingertips ghosting along the line of his jaw.

“Just let me hold you.” He murmurs, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Let me show you how much I care.”

Love Nolan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nolan price #nolan price x reader #hugh dancy #law and order

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virescent-v · 1 year

Note

Hiii. I hope you have a good day!! I'd like to ask 2,4,6,140 from the smut promt list. 😶

Two Emily fics in a week? I'm very proud of myself. :))) Also sorry this one also took like two-three weeks to do...

Office Hours

Summary: It's Emily Prentiss smut, ya'll. If you've read my stuff before, you know what to expect lol. Grey haired mommy Emily can do whatever she wants to me

Word count: 2k+

Prompts:

“just a little harder”

“no panties?”

“use your tongue”

“i can’t believe how wet you are already”

Have a great weekend everyone ;)

There was something so entrancing about watching Emily interrogate a suspect, something that I tried to never witness because it turned me on every single time. However, this time was unavoidable as the rest of the team was out of the office chasing down other leads, of which we had few of.

I let Emily handle the perp, her experience gave her a leg up that the unsub wasn’t expecting. She was no-nonsense, intense, and fierce. She didn’t back down or give the unsub an inch. Even with her tactical questioning, she still wasn’t getting much, and she eventually decided it was best to let him sweat in the box for a bit.

Following her out of the room, she led me back to her office wanting a few minutes to debrief and go over what we knew. But the second the door was closed behind us, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. I reached out and pulled her around to face me, a questioning look in her eyes before she registered what was happening.

Emily’s smile widened. “You okay there, baby?”

Oh, she definitely knew what I was feeling. Damn behavioral analyst. I licked my lips, my eyes dragging up her body. “You know I feel about watching you in the box, Em.”

She chuckled, pulling me closer to her, wrapping her arms low and loose around my hips. “I know. I wouldn’t have taken you in there if I didn’t need the backup.” She pulled me in for a small, yet sensual kiss. She didn’t do work sex, an unfortunate thing for me with how turned on I am. She tried valiantly to keep it professional, a few quick kisses hidden behind doors, a hand on my shoulder in passing. We’ve been dating for over a year and I haven’t gotten her to change her mind. Yet.

She broke away from me, walking back around to her desk, settling into the chair. I pouted a little before following her. As I approached her, I turned her office chair around and sank down to my knees, glancing up at her from my position on the floor, rubbing my hands up and down her thighs.

She smirked down at me, pushing some of my hair behind my ear, trailing a thumb across my bottom lip. “Hm, you really are worked up, aren’t you baby?”

“Mhm,” I moaned, taking a quick swipe at her finger with my tongue. “I want you, Em,” I whispered, making direct eye contact with her. I could see her pupils darken, her nostrils flared a little. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her. “Please? I promise I’ll be quick.”

She chuckled, contemplating. She glanced at the clock on the wall, obviously trying to calculate when she thought the rest of the team would be back. “Fine, if you’re quick. If we get caught, I’ll edge you for a month,” her voice sounding firm. “Pants and underwear down, bend over my desk.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t question her because I knew she was being serious. I’m surprised she’s even letting me do this, but obviously she’s just as worked up as I am. I stood up quickly, undressing myself from the waist down, gasping as the cold air of her office brushed against my heated core.

“Mmm, look at you. I can’t believe how wet you are already. Absolutely dripping for me.” Emily used both hands to push my legs further apart. My breath started to come faster eagerly anticipating her next move. She used one hand to trail through my wetness, coating her fingers in my juices.

I tried to look behind me as she removed her hand, my face pushed against her desk. I caught just a glimpse of her tasting me from her fingers, her eyes closed as she licked each one clean.

“You taste so good, baby. You ready for me?”

I nodded vigorously, “Yes, Em, please.”

Her hand snuck back between my legs, gathering more of my wetness before she slowly eased one finger inside of me. I couldn’t contain the small moan at finally having her inside of me, even though I knew I was going to need more from her.

“You have to be quiet or I’ll stop. We can’t have the whole office knowing you’re a desperate, needy whore for me.”

I closed my eyes at the onslaught of arousal that shot through me. Something about Emily’s filthy language always racketed my excitement up tenfold.

Her thrusts started getting a little harder, faster, her finger twisting inside of me, touching every inch of me that she could.

“More, Em, I need more of your fingers inside me,” I hoarsely whispered. I was normally very vocal and it was taking a lot out of me to make sure I was quiet.

She laughed lightly, “My needy girl,” she said, easing another finger into me.

The stretch of her fingers felt so good and I could feel myself dripping more, my cunt pulsating around them as if trying to get her to go deeper.

Emily was great at reading me and my body and started fucking me with vigor. She was thrusting into me with the perfect amount of speed, force, and depth, making sure to push down on each thrust in and push up on each pull out.

I was biting my lip hard to stop from moaning out loud, my knuckles turning white from their grip on the desk. “Just a little harder, Em, baby, please,” I moaned loudly, thrusting back onto her fingers, unable to control myself.

Emily shot out of her chair, grabbing a handful of my hair in her other hand, pulling my head back as her thrusts got considerably harder. “Moan like that again, baby girl, and I’ll leave you wet, aching, and wanting.”

My moan in response stuttered in my throat as Emily’s hand traveled around my neck, choking me enough that I could feel the wave of euphoria wash over me, pushing me closer to cumming.

“I said be quiet, baby. But since you can’t seem to help yourself, I guess I’ll have to do it,” she said, shoving two of her fingers in my mouth. I wrapped my lips around them, grateful to have something to help me stay quiet.

Emily’s thrusts seemed to pick up even more speed, pushing deeper into my warm, wet cunt. “Rub your clit, love.”

I trailed a hand down, rubbing tight, little circles against my swollen nub. I could feel the pressure building in my lower stomach. I was so close. I tried to rub myself in time with Emily’s strokes inside of me, but her pace was hard to keep up with. I just needed a little bit more and I was going to tumble over the edge.

“Come on, baby. Cum all over my fingers. Be mommy’s good girl and cum for me.”

That was all I needed.

Emily pulled her fingers out of my mouth, clamping her hand across my lips as I screamed, my cunt clamping down on her fingers, gushing my juices down her wrist.

Emily continued to thrust into me, her pace slowing as my orgasm washed over me. As I finished, she gently pulled out of me, cooing at my whine.

She pulled my upper body up and back against her, wrapping her arms around my waist to hold me up. Her hands rubbed slow, soft circles against my lower abdomen as her mouth found its way to my neck, peppering tender kisses there.

As I caught my breath, I turned in her arms, tucking some of her graying hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful and I was so lucky to be with someone who made me feel like she does. She smiled at me, all of the emotions she was feeling shining in her eyes. She kissed me quickly before reaching down and helping to pull up my underwear and pants.

As she got me settled, I was starting to feel my arousal skyrocket again. I pushed her gently back into her chair, settling on the floor in front of her once more.

I reached up, running my hands over her burnt orange blouse, feeling her breath catch, tracing them down to the button on her slacks. I started undoing her pants, dragging them down just enough to have access to her. “Em, no panties?” I asked incredulously, licking my lips at the smell of her. She just smirked at me in return, lifting her hips to help me get her pants down.

I slid my hands up her thighs, pushing them apart. I went to use my hands to spread her further, but her hand on my jaw stopped me cold.

“Use your tongue, baby girl.”

I trailed kisses up her thigh, biting at the inside of it, making sure to leave a mark. She was mine and I needed her to know that, and wanted to see the evidence of me on her.

Just as I was about to wrap my tongue around her clit, a knock resonated through her office from the door.

Emily hurriedly pushed me under her desk, scooting her chair up as close as she could to it to conceal the fact that her pants were down around her ankles.

“Come in,” she yelled, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat as Derek pushed through the door.

“Hey, we got a new lead while we were out. We’ve been thinking about this all wrong, I think. We’re ready to debrief you in the conference room.”

“I’ll be right there. I just need to finish this up really quick,” she said, holding up a random sheet of paper.

I decided enough time had gone by, my need for her desperate. I trailed slow kisses up her thigh, licking a broad stroke up her lower lips, finally getting a taste of her. Emily’s legs immediately tried to close around my head, a hand sneaking under her desk to hold my head back.

“You okay, Prentiss?” I could hear Derek ask.

Emily nervously chuckled. “Yeah, uh, yeah. I think lunch just didn’t sit well with me. I’ll be right out.” From my position, I could still barely brush my tongue over her clit, and it made her hips jump. “Make sure everyone is ready when I get there.”

“Got it,” he said, exiting the office and closing the door behind him.

Once the latch closed, Emily pulled back a little from her desk, dragging me out from under it. “You better make me cum quick,” she said, forcing my head back between her legs. “I’ll punish you for this later.”

I moaned into her pussy, the vibration causing Emily to sink further in the chair and grind her hips into my face.

I switched from broad strokes to using the tip of my tongue to flutter against her, building her up closer and closer to the edge. I wrapped my tongue around her straining clit, sucking at the pressure I knew Emily liked, moaning again as I could feel her legs start to shake around me.

“Shit,” Emily cursed above me, throwing her head back against her chair.

I moved a hand between her thighs, drawing circles around her opening before easing a finger inside, immediately finding the spot inside of her that makes her go crazy and curling my finger against it.

It only took a few well timed thrusts of my finger and curls of my tongue around her clit to have her hand tightening in my hair as she shuddered around me, her juices flowing down my hand as she came.

I used my tongue to clean her up as best as I could, wiping my hand across my mouth to wipe away any evidence of what we’d been doing.

I helped her get dressed, kissing her lightly before walking towards the door. “Let's go, boss. We’ve got a debrief to be a part of.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your punishment, baby girl.”

I smirked at her over my shoulder as I opened the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

#virescent v fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #wrote this one in first person to try something different! how do we feel about it??#emily prentiss x you #no use of y/n #emily prentiss x reader #im sorry but this outfit????? her hair???? im obsessed #the prompts actually help me write so send me more stuff!#i also want to try and write a series but i definitely need ideas lol

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softspiderling · 2 years

Text

cruel existence | j.h.s.

summary: “Excuse me, can anyone tell me where I can find Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” Jake’s head whirled to the guy nobody had heard coming into the break room. His hair was wild, face red, as if he had been running for the past few minutes. Only when Jake’s eyes fell to his FBI minted vest, his heart plummeted into his stomach, the smile on his face vanishing. “What happened?” Jake asked, nearly falling over his feet as he walked up to the man, blood rushing into his ears. “Is she okay?” or, you get hurt at work and Jake spirals

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x reader

warnings: mention of violence, blood, usage of guns, and a death (of a minor character)

word count: 3,7k

author’s note: hello my friends. here is pt. 3 of the wingman's best friend universe, and if you missed jake and fbi!reader rest assured, they are back. honorable mentions to my ride or die's jordan, sol and may @gretagerwigsmuse @seasonsbloom @sunderlust ily guys. no beta, we die like goose. PS: this fic is part of the wingman’s best friend universe, but can be read as a stand-alone!

It was silent.

The only thing echoing through the warehouse was water dripping on the ground, paired with the squelching sound your boots made as you walked further into the dark building.

Donovan Sinclair had been in possession of two dirty bombs; you and your team had been trying to chase him all week. It had started off with an explosion at a corner store, where Sinclair’s partner had accidentally set off one of the bombs, killing him and 4 other civilians, injuring 9 others. Even though the incident has been on the news for basically every single minute of the day, you were told by your officials to not announce your current findings of the case, so as to not set off a wild panic.

Which was not very easy for you.

While the rest of your team struggled with keeping the possibility of a bomb going off any second, it was even harder for you. You’d set off a Navy wide alarm if you told Bradley or Jake, not that they would tell anyone classified information. But you wanted to grab both of them and pack them in a car and drive far away from wherever Sinclair was currently holed up. The sudden disappearance of two high ranking naval aviators? You weren’t sure what would set off the Navy’s alarm bells if not that.

So you just tried to stay busy. Which really wasn’t that hard, since there was a terrorist on the loose. By the third day, you hit a dead end, when one of a street camera caught Sinclair exiting a hardware store. By the time you got there, he had hijacked a car and made you chase him through the entire city, which got you here.

“Any signs of him outside, Mateo?”

“Negative. Avery and I will enter the building from the other side, let’s try to cage him inside the warehouse.”

You glanced over to your partner Gia, motioning for her to lead the way, the two of you tiptoeing through the huge empty warehouse. As quiet as possible, you approached the hallway, where it split into left and right. Hesitantly, Gia glanced back at you. In all your training, you’ve been told over and over again to never leave your partner. There was a reason why you worked in teams. But you’ve also learned to trust your instincts, and you couldn’t live with yourself if this son of a bitch got away.

“Let’s split up,” you whispered, giving Gia a nod of reassurance. “Stay alert, we’ll meet up in the back.” With a tap to your earpiece, you turned down the right hallway, your shoulders tense. There were offices lined on either side of the hallway and you checked every single one, entering the rooms with your gun first. You might have backed Sinclair in the corner but you knew better than to underestimate a perp, especially one that was as dangerous as him.

At the end of the hallway was a large, dark room, with tall, metal shelves in the middle. As you stepped into the room, you felt the hairs by the nape of your neck rise immediately.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

In the split second that it took your eyes to adjust to the darkness, another body slammed into your side, hard. Your gun slipped out of your hand, clattering against the floor and you barely had time to react before you got a heavy punch right into the stomach; you doubled over in pain as the other person chuckled darkly.

Sinclair.

You curled your hand into a fist, slamming it into Sinclair’s face, but he easily dogged your fist, shoving you against the metal shelf. It knocked the breath out of you and before you could recover, he grabbed you by the shoulders, throwing you across the floor. Even before your face made contact with the ground, you knew that your chances against him were slim. He had caught you off guard, and clearly had more strength than you did. Crouching on your knees, your vision was starting to get blurry, but you launched yourself at his legs, toppling him over with a crash.

“Stupid bitch!” Sinclair sneered, slapping you across the face so hard that your skin splits open, warm blood trickling down your cheek. Prying your hands from his legs, Sinclair kicked your torso until tears sprung into your eyes, all you wanted to do was give up. But you couldn’t.

Sinclair leaned over you, pressing his palm against your ribs, making you cry out in pain, as you saw your gun glinting in the far right side on the floor. As your hand reached out for it, Sinclair wrapped his around your neck, tightening his grip.

“You really think I’d let the FBI ruin my plans?” Sinclair grunted, pressing even tighter. It was getting harder for you to breathe, your fingertips barely grazing against the butt of the gun, but Sinclair quickly caught on, his hands loosening as he scrambled for your gun.

Reacting quickly, even though your lungs were burning and your entire body was telling you to rest, you grabbed Sinclair by the back of his jacket, flinging him back as hard as you could. Lunging forward, you reached for your gun but just as you were about to grab it, Sinclair pulled you back by your legs, the gun slipping out of your hand.

Heaving, you propped yourself up, barely any fight left in you, but Sinclair was already pointing the gun at your head, smirking.

“Any last words?”

You spat blood at his shoes, raising your chin defiantly, trying to show you weren’t afraid, even though you were terrified. Bradley was never going to forgive you, and Jake? You didn’t even want to think about him right now.

“Fuck you,” you hissed at him and Sinclair’s eyes flashed angrily before a shot rang through the air. You expected a searing pain, but it never came, as Sinclair sank to his knees, blood oozing out of the gun shot in his forehead. Whirling your head back, you saw Gia standing in the doorway, breathing out deeply, before you sighed in relief, letting yourself relax.

However, it suddenly felt like all the energy was drained from you, the pain that shot from every limb was so unbearable, it was getting hard to breathe.

“Agent down, I repeat, we got an agent down. Send an ambulance to our location immediately!” Gia yelled, before gentle hands brushed your hair out of your face, something wet dropped on your cuts. It burned

“Hurts…” you croaked out, your eyes fluttered open just to see Gia staring down at you, tears in her eyes.

“We never should’ve split up. Stay awake, okay? The ambulance will be right here, you have to stay awake.”

“‘m… So tired…”

You could hear Gia say your name, gently shaking your, sending shots of pain right through your body. In the distance, there were sirens, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things. Loud, hurried steps came closer, before you finally let yourself fall, letting the darkness engulf you.

“Anyone up for a beer tonight? It’s been ages since we went down to the Hard Deck,” Halo sighed, leaning her head against Fritz’ shoulder. The rest of the squadron voiced their agreements, but Jake only grunted, shaking his head.

“I think I am out. Gonna see if my girl wants to get dinner tonight.”

“How is my favorite FBI agent doing?”

Jake rolled his eyes at Javy peering over the magazine he was reading. Ever since he found out that you were an actual FBI agent, he’d been pestering you and Jake (and Bradley, occasionally) with questions, his act of protective best friend completely forgotten. Jake blamed Javy’s obsession with Criminal Minds.

“She’s fine. Just, extremely busy and stressed, I’ve barely seen her,” Jake lamented. “Her new case is heavy, that’s all I know.”

“Ooooh what kind of case is it? Russian mob? British spy? Serial killer?”

“My god, he’s like a puppy,” Yale muttered, wrinkling his nose at Javy, but he only whacked him with the rolled up magazine. The two began bickering with Yale putting Javy in a headlock, the latter pinching his sides.

“Excuse me, can anyone tell me where I can find Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?”

Jake’s head whirled to the guy nobody had heard coming into the breakroom. His hair was wild, face red, as if he had been running for the past few minutes. Only when Jake’s eyes fell to his FBI minted vest, his heart plummeted into his stomach, the smile on his face vanishing.

“What happened?” Jake asked, nearly falling over his feet as he walked up to the man, blood rushing into his ears. “Is she okay?”

The FBI guy eyed Jake, his gaze drifting to the other aviators, before looking back at Jake.

“I need to find Lieutenant Br-”

“Listen buddy,” Jake hissed, grabbing him by the vest roughly, pulling him close. “If you don’t tell me right now what’s going on, I will-”

“Hangman!”

Jake turned away from the red faced FBI guy, only to see Rooster running up to him, his phone clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were turning white. Jake’s breath stocked in his throat.

“She’s in the hospital. We gotta go now.”

The ride to the hospital passed like a blur, Jake hadn’t even paid attention. The only thing he knew was what Bradley had told him.

She and her team were chasing some guy and he caught Toots off-guard. She put up a hell of a fight, but the guy was huge and she and her partner had split up. She didn't have a chance. I- They called me, because I’m her emergency contact, Alvarez was just doing his job, following protocol. They say she’s still in surgery. It’s-

Rooster’s voice had cut off and Jake knew better than to look over or to say anything. They both were having dark thoughts, knowing exactly that they should expect the worst. Jake’s never been on the other side of this. Sure, he was waiting outside the doctor’s office after Javy went into G-loc, but this? This was different.

This was you.

As soon as Rooster pulled into a parking spot haphazardly, both men bolted out of the car, all but running into the hospital. Reaching the front desk, the nurse looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Is Toots-?” Rooster paused, taking a deep breath before giving the nurse your real name. “Where is she?”

The nurse pursed her lips as she clicked through the files on her screen before turning back to Rooster and Jake.

“She’s still in surgery. You’re welcome to take a seat in the waiting room.”

With an annoyed huff, Jake pushed away from the desk, heading into the waiting room, but instead of sitting down like Rooster, Jake started pacing from one end to the room to the other. About ten minutes in, the grandma in the right corner glared at Jake and it took everything in Jake not to snap at her. He’d rather direct his anger at Rooster.

“How the hell are you so calm?”

Rooster rubbed his hand over his face, his gaze on the floor before he lifted his head to look at Jake.

“You’re already about to fly off the handle, one of us has to stay calm.”

Scoffing, Jake turned away from Rooster with a shake of his head. He continued pacing for another minute, before he gave up, falling down in the chair next to Rooster. Both of them sat there in silence, and then Jake spoke up, his voice barely a whisper.

“How many times has this happened before?”

“Not as many times as you’re afraid of, but more than you’d like,” Rooster replied with a wry smile, exhaling deeply. “After I graduated from college, she was the only one who was there for me whenever I had an incident at work. It was like we took turns waiting for each other in the hospital and it kind of sucked having to wait by myself. Worry by myself.”

Rooster looked over to Jake. “I’m glad she has you, now.”

Jake wasn’t sure what to answer, so he didn’t say anything, leaning back in his chair and praying that you’d be okay. When the doctor finally came into the waiting room, calling your name, Jake and Rooster both jumped up, staring at her

“The surgery went well, there were no complications. She has several broken ribs and internal bleeding, all she has to do now is rest,” the doctor said, closing your file. “You may see her now. But she’s still asleep.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied, breathing a sigh of relief. He stood up, following the doctor to the room, the door closed. He wasn’t sure what he had expected but when the doctor opened the door, Jake stopped in his tracks. You were lying in the hospital bed, your usually bright skin impossibly pale, bruises splattered across your body, where it wasn’t covered by your gown. If it wasn’t for the slow rise but continuous rise of your chest, he might’ve thought you dead. His breath hitched in his throat.

“Go,” Rooster muttered, giving him a light shove, but Jake shook his head, leaning against the door frame, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“I can’t.”

“Wha-? Hangman!”

Nearly stumbling over his feet, ignoring Rooster calling after him, Jake fled down the hallway, looking for a bathroom. He knew what had happened to you, but why was it so much worse seeing you like this?

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was a bright light coming from the left; then you felt the warm hand caressing over your knuckles.

“Jake…?” you croaked out, slowly opening your eyes.

“Hey… No, it’s me.”

It took you a while before the room stopped spinning that you recognized Bradley on your bedside, looking at you with furrowed brows. Disappointment settled in your stomach. While Bradley still was your emergency contact, you had expected Jake to be here for you when you woke up, at the very least.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Bradley asked, the concern obvious in his voice.

You tried wiggling all your body parts and to your relief, you could feel all of them; the pain, that you remembered being overwhelmingly strong, was now merely a dull ache. Only your head felt like someone had dropped a boulder on it.

“Honestly, I thought I’d feel worse,” you admitted. “Though my head’s a bit woozy.”

“Just wait until the anesthesia wears off, you’ll be in so much pain,” Bradley teased. You chuckled, but only briefly, your smile dropping as you glanced over to the door. He followed your gaze and you wished that Jake would appear, so you wouldn’t look stupid.

“He was here, you know?” Bradley said quietly, turning back to you. “He nearly beat up Alvarez for not telling him what had happened to you. He just- bolted as soon as he saw you lying in here like this.”

“That’s dumb.”

Bradley gave you a look. “Imagine him lying in this bed, in the same state that you’re in. How would you react?”

Miffed, you settled back in your bed, giving your best friend a dirty look.

“Since when do you come to Jake’s defense? You love fucking with him.”

“Hey, don’t act like I hate him. We’ve had our issues, but those were Hangman and Rooster issues. I never had an issue with him being your boyfriend. He’s good for you and you’re good for him. And knowing you, you’re probably starting to get a bit pissed off at him. Which is fair, but don’t be too hard on him.”

You scoffed at his words, even though you knew he was right. But the way Jake reacted just didn't feel right. Up to this point, your relationship was… Easy. Fun. You never even fought before. This was the first bad thing that happened since you started dating and Jake’s first instinct was to run?

“I am going to get the doctor and grab you some water, okay? Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

Bradley’s words drew you out of your spiraling thoughts and you waved him off, nodding.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be fine, you mother hen.”

Bradley pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before he left the room, leaving you by yourself. You knew that the next couple of days were going to be rough. Gia was probably filling out the report for the case and maybe getting reamed at by your supervisor for splitting up in the first place.

Now that you thought about it, you’d probably get the same lecture when you’d get back to work.

Someone by the door cleared their throat and when you looked up, you saw Jake lingering in the doorway. You fought the urge to turn your face away from him, but you couldn’t help glaring at your boyfriend.

“How you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, casting your eyes down on the bed, horrified to realize that there were tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I’m going to be honest, sweets, you scared the shit out of me,” he said as he approached your bed, his hand finding yours. “When I saw you lying here like this, I- Are you crying?”

Jake’s tone rose when he noticed the streaks of tears on your cheek. “Are you in pain? Can you breathe? I’ll go get the doctor!” He let go of your hand, standing quickly, pausing when you called his name.

“I am fine!”

“Then why are you crying?” Jake asked, confused. You rolled your eyes at him, wincing when that made your migraine stronger.

“Why weren’t you here when I woke up? Bradley said you came here with him, but then you just bolted? What the fuck, Jake?”

You stared at him, waiting for an answer, but Jake just stood there, frozen.

“Is that how it’s going to be everytime something bad happens? You just bolt, leaving Bradley to deal with the consequences and come back when everything is okay?”

Jake clenched his jaw, before taking a deep breath.

“Maybe I deserved that. But you can’t seriously believe what you’re saying. Sweets, I am 100% in this relationship, you hear me?” he sat back down on the bed, lacing your hand with his in a tight, but not uncomfortable hold. “You’re right. I should’ve been here when you woke up, that’s on me. But when I saw you lying here like this… I got scared, okay? It fucking scared me seeing you so small and frail, because I’ve never seen you like that. And that made me think what if… What if next time, you can’t fight back? What if… What if I lost you?”

Looking at him through your lashes, you wiped the tears on your cheeks, unsure what to say.

“I am sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. And I am sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t count on me. I promise I’ll be better,” Jake said, looking at you, his forehead creased.

“It was pretty shitty of you.”

The corner’s of Jake’s mouth ticked upwards and he reached out to gently cup your face with his hand.

“It was... Are you doing okay?”

You nodded, covering his hand with yours. Somehow, his touch calmed you, making you feel safe without really doing much.

“Yeah, for now. I don’t know how much pain I’ll be in after the anesthesia wears off, though. I just hope that I can go home today.”

“Sorry, but no,” Jake answered, clicking his tongue. “They’re keeping you here overnight and if your breathing looks good tomorrow, they’ll let you go home. But you’re not allowed back to work until the doctor’s given you a clean bill of health.”

“... I am sorry, but have you become a doctor since I last saw you?”

Before Jake could reply, a doctor entered your room with Bradley in tow, who settled on the other side of your bed, holding a water bottle in his hand. The doctor gave you a small smile as she opened your file.

“I am glad you’re up, special agent. You have significant bruising and internal bleeding, especially from the broken ribs. We fixed the broken ribs surgically and I would like to keep you here overnight, just as a precaution. I wouldn’t want you to come back here by tomorrow evening complaining of chest pains. You should abstain from strenuous activities for at least six weeks, and I advise you against working, if that’s at all possible. If you insist on working, then desk duty, only. I’ll prescribe you some pain killers for when you’re at home, otherwise you should just rest,” the doctor said, closing your file. “Do you have any more questions?”

A bit baffled, you shook your slowly, waiting until the doctor left the room before you glanced at Jake suspiciously, giving him a look.

“You cornered her before, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I wanted to make sure that I knew everything there is to know to make sure you heal with no problems at all,” Jake pointed out and you leaned back in your bed with a huff.

“Wow. Two mother hens? How will I survive?”

Jake and Bradley both started going off in rants, making you regret your statement immediately. By the next day, after the doctor deemed you well enough to leave the hospital, Jake drove you home, insisting on taking the next few days off so he could take care of you. You were tucked into bed, comfortable on a mountain of pillows (because Jake read that lying flat on your back would put more pressure on your broken ribs), as Jake tuttered around your apartment, locking the door and putting your things away.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this, right?” you asked him when he finally came to bed, crawling under the blanket on the left side of the mattress.

“I know,” Jake replied, snuggling up to you, yearning for physical touch without hurting you. “But I want to.”

author's note: i hope you like it besties. don't forget to comment/like/reblog when you did!! i'd love to hear from you!!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @sssjuico10 // @princessofglitterland // @unordinare // @unluckymonaghan // @solacestyles // @pythagothug // @shanimallina87 // @fantasias-creativebubble // @katcoquette // @lovinnoya // @emakacat // @takeyour-pantsoff // @another-tblr-fangirl // @alana4610 // @band-of-losers // @oscarisaacsleftknee // @candid-confetti // @sallyp-53 // @j-velvet // @vexedcanadian // @fantasyfan4life // @justanothermagicalsara // @obiwankenobis-lap // @et-homephone // @dummythiccwitch // @nonononomiles // @harper1666 // @simpingfortoomanypeople // @fangirling-4-ever // @hueanhdang // @i-wear-wet-socks313 // @hopeless-romanticnamed-s // @angelilacsworld // @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy // @unlikelycollectiondreamer // @lonelywithv2 // @je-suis-prest-rachell // @hotch-meeeeeuppppp // @deliciouslydisturbed365 // @tinyworm3 // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner // @army24–7 // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader

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lizdonnelly · 9 months

Text

Appearances

Pairing: Elizabeth Donnelly x f!reader, suggestions of Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson Warnings: Smut, language Summary: "We do not see people as they are, but as they appear to us." Takes place after the events of 3x21 ‘Denial'

---

Alex Cabot would admit to being many things, but a pushover was not one of them. The ADA crossed her arms and adjusted herself on the bench within the cell, adamant that back talking to Lena Petrovsky would be worth the ass chewing that would surely ensue when the news reached the Bureau Chief that her subordinate was being held in contempt. Adjusting her watch, Alex realized it was already well past six. She bit the inside of her cheek at the thought of Liz receiving the phone call during dinner. While the woman was typically volatile enough as it was, any interruptions Alex had spurred on after hours lately had inspired an especially caustic response. A few rumors were circulating around the DA's office, and to their credit, they tracked with the reputation that preceded Liz.

"Elizabeth Donnelly? They're promoting that radical feminist?" Arthur Branch had scoffed over a glass of whiskey at the annual holiday benefit when he had asked Alex who had the honor of being her new boss. "She had everyone's balls in an iron vice back in the 70's until she let a perp escape out the bathroom window. Ruined her reputation, but didn't fix that attitude."

Alex feigned a smile in acknowledgement, tracing her thumb along the edge of her champagne flute. She couldn't lie, her family ties and pedigree had certainly helped carry her through the conservative boy's club that the DA's office had been, but she liked to believe she knew enough of the script to ease through on her own accord. If it worked at Harvard, how could it be any different at Manhattan SVU?

"You know, it's always been an open secret that she bats for the other team," Arthur derided. "Explains a lot, don't you think?" Alex's blood cooled.

"Here's what I don't understand..." Ripped back to reality at sound of the harsh, staccato voice that echoed down the hall, Alex braced herself. She straightened her back out and smoothed her brow. Time to test her resolve. "Yes, ma'am. That's correct, she's just down that way. Check the second cell on the right."

--- Liz turned to you before she headed down the hallway, voice softening. "Stay here while I go give her a reality check," she said. "It shouldn't take long." You nodded, leaning against the guard's desk. You adjusted your grip on the takeout bag that you had asked the restaurant for as soon as Liz received the call. Although your shift at Mercy General's ER had been fatiguing, the idea of a cozy dinner with your girlfriend had carried you through the workday. With drama stirring up again on Liz's end, it had been about a week since you'd last been able to have a proper night out with her. Despite your understanding of the responsibility that came with her career, an all too familiar feeling had begun clawing its way through you. "You cold over there all by your lonesome, miss?"

Startled, you turned around. Two guards stood behind the desk, and one winked.

"Sweetheart?" Liz stood in the doorway of her bedroom. You paused your motions, eyes widening as you looked up at her.

"You must be cold all alone like that," she said faintly, slowly walking closer. "Run out of patience waiting for me to get back?"

It was true. Although you had only started formally dating her for a few months at the time, you both fell quicker and harder than you thought you could. You felt a wave of shame at succumbing to the ache that had gnawed at you, broke you. She had been pulled into a particularly demanding case, and hadn't been able to follow through on a date night in over two weeks. Liz had suggested you spend the night, promising she'd be home before midnight to make reparations for lost time, but you had made the mistake of watching her get dressed for her court appearance earlier that day. It was stupid, really, to get caught up in the thought of it like some hormonal teenager. A woman as put together as she was surely wouldn't take well to finding out that you could cave so easily.

But her hands were smoothing up the bare skin along your back now, pulling you off your spot straddling the pillow and flush against her suit. She pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Here, darling," came her voice in your ear. She patted her thigh. Hesitantly, you shifted up into place and began to grind against it, burying your face into the crook of her neck. Your cheeks burned.

"Come on, it's alright. You can make a mess."

The guard pulled the zipper down on his jacket.

"I've dealt with worse," you managed, not sure whether the words were really meant for him or as a reminder to yourself. You tugged at the corner of your coat and looked over at the men. Something about the way they were eyeing you now began to unnerve you. Your heartbeat quickened. You tried your best to tuck your hospital ID badge into your pocket before they could get a good look at it. "Is that so? Snow's supposed to get real bad tonight," the guard continued, swapping glances with his coworker and grinning. He stepped forward towards you. "You know what they say's the best way to keep warm?" The man waggled his eyebrows, both of them now chuckling. "With my foot up your ass," came Liz's voice as she rounded the corner. She pulled you under her arm, leading you towards the exit. She cast a look over her shoulder that you weren't able to catch, but the sound of the guards' boots squeaking out of the room said it all. ---

Running a hand through her hair, Alex made her way through the station, thankful for the dim lighting now that her eyes burned with fatigue. Lewin had succeeded in making peace with Petrovsky, although it took hours for the news to reach the ADA. Fortunately, Olivia had the patience of a saint. The detective had been more than willing to meet up with her for a late night dinner once Alex was able to drop a few things off at her desk. The thought of nursing a warm bowl of soup almost made up for the fact that her shirt was beginning to stick to her skin. Her mind wandered to the idea of sitting across from those wide, chocolate puppy dog eyes that always held such an earnest fire in them. Something began to stir within Alex, but she shook it off, digging her nails into her arms. Olivia was a talented detective. Her empathy and ability to make people feel heard was what made victims able to open up to her. It was just a skill that also happened to benefit her coworkers, nothing more.

As the ADA turned the corner, she paused.

The door to Liz's office was open. One of the lamps had been turned on inside, and a hazy glow filtered out across the darkened hallway. The Bureau Chief was standing in the doorway, hands grasping at the hips of a woman in a pair of scrubs. Everything in Alex stilled as she saw the woman lean up and run a hand through Liz's short, swept back hair. There was a warmth that radiated in her boss' eyes that she had trouble believing could exist there. The woman whispered something to Liz, and whatever had been said caused Liz to pull her forward into a bruising kiss.

Alex hid back behind the corner, unsure of how to process catching Liz Donnelly slide her tongue down another woman's throat. Waiting for the sound of the door to close, Alex pushed herself flat against the wall. Much to her dread, footsteps began to head towards her. Her adrenaline spiked.

Knowing there was no way to call the elevator in time, the ADA dipped into an open conference room nearby, hoping the clicking of her heels wouldn't give her away. Not long after, Liz rounded the corner, briefcase in hand. She furrowed her brow and looked around. Alex held her breath, knowing that she'd burn the remainder of her nine lives at the DA's office if the woman found out what she'd seen.

Fortunately, Liz slipped into the women's restroom.

Alex's phone buzzed within her pocket. "Where are you? Donnelly still giving you trouble?"

Alex paused before typing her response. "Got sidetracked, sorry. Be there soon."

--- At Liz's insistence, you settled into one of the leather chairs in her office and left the takeout bag on the table for you both to dig into once she returned. Looking around, you took in the sight of all the awards and fancy, framed pieces of paper hanging along the walls with signatures of names that meant nothing to you but surely held some sort of high regard in the legal world.

Melinda had warned you that Liz didn't have the most gracious demeanor. She said the prosecutor was about as cold as they come, aside from those that ended up on her table. However, that didn't stop her from urging you to confront your feelings for the woman in the same breath. It had been over a year of tiptoeing around the subject before you both ended up confessing feelings over drinks. Somehow, it all felt much more real getting to finally see the office that soaked up so much of her time.

Sucking in your bottom lip, you tasted her on you again.

Your eyes landed on her desk. Heat began to pool in the bottom of your stomach at the thought of her gazing over at you from behind it. Cautiously, you got up and walked over. You ran your fingers along the edge of the wood, chuckling at both how much of a statement piece it was and how impersonal Liz kept it. Apart from the heavy, gold nameplate, there wasn't much across it that would make it clear who worked there. For all the years you devoted to medical school, you certainly didn't have anything with as much pomp and circumstance with your name on it. Accidentally pushing a drawer open in the process, you came face to face with something unexpected. Tucked halfway underneath a few blank memo pads in the drawer was a newspaper clipping. In it, you smiled widely at the camera, accepting an award on behalf of the trauma unit at Mercy General. The article had been published over two years ago. "Feeling nosy, eh?"

You jumped at the sound of Liz's voice from across the room. Strangely, she had changed into a pair of suit pants. She set her briefcase to the side, and you heard her lock the door. "Where'd you get this?" "Judging by the looks of it, the newspaper, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes and giggled.

"They teach you those skills in law school?" It was her turn to laugh now.

She made her way across the dimly lit room to wrap herself around your back. You felt her press a kiss to the back of your neck. "I picked up the paper at the cafe by my home one morning, and wouldn't you know it, there was the name of the adorable woman in scrubs I kept seeing order her croissants there," she said, smiling into your skin. "It made up for all the shitty coffee I dealt with to get a chance to see her."

"That was a few months before Melinda introduced us at the gala," you said. "I don't remember ever seeing you there, and I could never forget the night we first met." She pressed up against your back. You felt the bulge in her pants and bit your lip. The impromptu outfit change suddenly made sense. "I like to keep some things to myself," she whispered. She shifted, positioning the outline of the strap to nudge the space between your legs. "Other things, not so much."

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut. "Here? Are you sure?" "Bend over, sweetheart." "What if someone-" Liz nipped at your earlobe, and the words died in your throat. "Hush," she whispered, patting her desk. Mind swimming and desire taking over, you leaned over the edge of her desk. You moaned at the feeling of her hands sliding up the back of your thighs. Suddenly, you felt her loop her fingers into your waistband, easing your pants and underwear off. You let your forehead hit the surface of the desk at the feeling of the cool air hitting your ass. "I've thought about this all too often," Liz whispered. She kept her voice low, but it only further added to your arousal. "You're even more gorgeous like this than I imagined." You gasped at the feeling of her swiping two fingers along your pussy, not sure of how long you'd be able to hold out like this. Liz chucked. "How long have you been wet like this for me?" "I told you earlier," you panted, thinking of the kiss you had shared in her doorway. "Y-you look so good tonight." Liz rewarded you by stroking her fingers around your entrance. You whined at her touch, hips bucking up towards her. She used her free hand to tug her pants open. "Oh god, Lizzie... please," you choked as she began running the toy through your folds.

At the sound of the nickname only you were allowed to call her, and only in the privacy of the heated moments you shared, she withdrew her fingers and eased the length of her strap inside you.

You gripped the edge of the desk as she began thrusting at a steady pace, her hands settling along your thighs to deepen her movements. The sound of your panting, the smacking of your ass against her, and the occasional restrained moans she fought back filled the air around you.

From along the bookshelf at the other side of the room, you caught a glimpse of yourself across the reflective surface of one of the awards she displayed, Liz mounted over you. Following your glance, the prosecutor snickered, leaning down to pull you into a kiss. "Do you like seeing me on top of you like this, darling?" she said, dragging her teeth across the soft spot exposed along your neck. You bit back a wail. "I can't...I'm going to..." you felt the waves of pleasure threatening to spread across your body. You fought to still them as much as you could, but the way she was pushing up against that spot deep inside you threatened to drive you mad. Your moans became less coherent, and you reached back to grab at her frantically. "Go ahead," she panted, her voice now strained. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart, you can do it." Your mind went fizzy, and the floodgates finally burst. Liz fucked you through your orgasm, hands soothing you up your shirt and all across your back. Not long after, you felt her grind up against you, finally collapsing. "Fuck!" she cried out, a little louder than she probably would have liked.

But what did it really matter? Who would be still around at this time of night?

--- "What did she hit you with this time?" Olivia asked, walking alongside the ADA as they both headed towards the elevators. Alex hit the button and shook her head. "That I need to stay in my own lane if I want to keep this job." Olivia rewarded her with a grin. Alex felt something in her stomach flip. "So not that bad this time. That's something," the detective said. The doors opened, and the pair walked in. Alex watched as Olivia thumbed the button for the ground floor. It was nearly two in the morning, yet the detective still had a lightness in her step. The prosecutor's eyes furtively scanned the woman as the elevator began its descent. She paused, noticing Olivia had a bit of a cowlick at the back of her pixie cut. Without thinking, Alex reached out and ran her fingers through the back of Olivia's hair, smoothing it out. Olivia hummed in response. The elevator halted. The doors opened, and Alex froze. She locked eyes with none other than Liz Donnelly, who stood behind the woman the ADA had seen her with earlier. Several strands of the short, blonde locks that Liz kept so neatly maintained were now plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her suit jacket hung around the arms of the woman she was with. Alex saw the Bureau Chief's eyes dart over to the hand the ADA still had threaded in Olivia's hair. The two lawyers met each other's gaze again. Unaware of the telepathic recognition of mutually assured destruction that was unfolding around her, the woman tugged Liz into the elevator with her. Alex removed her hand from Olivia's hair and found anything to look at but her boss. "Do you have any plans for the night?" the woman piped up, trying to make small talk with Alex and Olivia. "Staying in my lane," Alex said.

#elizabeth donnelly #elizabeth donnelly x reader #svu

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bamber344 · 11 days

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Cracks In The Façade

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posting this now because i can't be F'ed waiting till tomorrow morning tbh...

We've got a Steve and Vivienne double POV special! it was my first time inside both of their heads so I hope I've done them justice!

CWs: references to previous torture (beating, cutting), gun whump, minor medical whump, caretaker who is just doing her best fr fr, references to past gaslighting, living weapon whumpee

enjoy!

Cracks in the Façade

Detective Steve Matthews sighed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling it away from his chest to allow some airflow. It was a blisteringly hot day, and he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was right at that moment; standing in the sun outside of a convenience store that just got held up. The perp didn’t get very far, thankfully. Seven had been patrolling nearby and took the man down before he could make it across the street. Now Steve was just here to take statements and collect evidence in the summer heat. Or, more like he was there to supervise the beat cops as they did all of those things under the direction of another detective while he just stood around sweating. As if Captain de Vygon would actually let him lead his own investigation.

At least he didn’t have it as bad as Seven did, though. It couldn’t have been cool in that intimidating black armour, and he knew that the captain was breathing down her neck just as hard as his – probably even harder. Ever since those SWAT officers were killed a week ago, Seven had been moving differently; almost gingerly, as though she was hurt, or so Steve had noticed in their few encounters. It rose warning flags in the back of his mind. Something just wasn’t right about that whole situation. Steve didn’t trust de Vygon’s integrity at the best of times; he wouldn’t put it past him to beat his volunteer superhero for a mistake, especially one so extreme. The real question was, why would Seven put up with it? It just didn’t sit right.

Well, what was he going to do about it, anyway? He wasn’t a hero. He was barely a cop. Seven was an adult woman and a borderline supersoldier. He’d seen her flip a grown man over her tiny 5’3” frame and break his arm with ease. If she had a problem with how things were going behind the scenes, she could get herself out of it. The Union would take her in no questions asked if she wanted. It was probably just in his head.

Right now, the woman was standing some distance away, seemingly spacing out while staring through the window at the mannequins on display in a woman’s clothing boutique. She seemed to have relaxed some now that she wasn’t on active duty, antsily twiddling her fingers together as she examined the clothes. Steve walked over to her. He had nothing better to do, after all.

“Thinking about buying something?” he asked.

Seven jumped a little before turning to him. “S-sorry?”

“Are you thinking about buying something from here? You seem pretty fascinated by what they got on display.”

Seven looked at him, and then back to the mannequins, wringing her hands nervously. “Um, I don’t have any money. I was just… looking.”

No money? That was odd. Though, perhaps she just meant she didn’t have any on her. It didn’t look like her armour had pockets, to be fair.

Steve shrugged. “Still, you work hard. You should treat yourself. Why not come back after your shift is done?”

Seven stared at him, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could sense the confusion in her body language. She looked back and forth between him and the boutique a few times. “Uh… O-okay…”

The more Steve interacted with her outside of combat scenarios or de Vygon’s presence, the more he felt like there was something seriously weird going on. Her apparent personality just didn’t match the front she put up whenever she was working. If he had to guess, he’d say she almost felt like… like a sheltered kid or something. Where the hell did de Vygon find this girl?

A memory flashed through his head, but he shook it off. He’d heard it enough from the precinct counsellor; it was just a hallucination induced by stress and a lack of sleep, nothing more.

The awkward silence stretched on. Steve sighed. “Well, whatever. Do what you want. I’m gonna head back to the scene; I think the boys are almost done with the evidence.”

He turned and started walking away, hearing Seven’s footsteps following along behind him. He approached her because she’d looked a little lonely, standing there staring at the store like a puppy with a toy it couldn’t have, but now he felt bad about interrupting her privacy and ruining her quiet moment.

They got back to the scene. Steve busied himself catching up on the evidence that had been logged, while Seven milled around, as she was wont to do at crime scenes. A few days after her first appearance, a couple of fleeing perps returned to a scene that she’d already left and ruined some evidence before the police could stop them. Ever since then, she’d made a habit of sticking around to ensure everything went smoothly, unless there was another pressing issue that required her attention.

It was a few minutes later that things went awry. A loud crack echoed across the street and Seven flew backwards. All of the officers dove for cover and Steve was no exception; throwing his car door open and hiding behind it. There was a shooter, and if they had managed to knock Seven off her feet, they had to be packing some serious heat.

Steve glanced around. Seven was on the floor, but she was still moving. According to de Vygon, that armour of hers was bullet-proof. He hoped for her sake that was correct. She lifted her head, trying to get up, but another shot ripped through the air and sparks flew from Seven’s helmet as she was forced straight back to the ground.

Steve drew his pistol, taking a deep breath. He peeked through the window of the open car door, looking up at the roof of the opposite building. The sky was blindingly bright, but he could just about make out a figure perched on the edge. Light glinted from the scope of the sniper rifle in their hands.

One of the other officers returned fire and the figure startled, backing up and taking their rifle with them. A huge pair of dark wings unfurled from their back and flapped, lifting them from the roof with improbable speed. Steve took aim and fired a few shots, but none of them met their mark. The figure was too fast, ducking and weaving through the air until they were gone from sight.

“Seven, are you alright?!” Steve asked, jumping out of his hiding spot to check on her.

Seven groaned, lifting her head again. The glass on the front of her visor was cracked, but it didn’t look like the bullet had gone through. Most likely, it ricocheted off the edge. He couldn’t tell where the first shot had impacted, but the woman didn’t seem that much worse for wear, if a little winded. “Y-yeah… I’m okay.”

“Come on, we might still be able to see them from the roof!”

Steve turned to the other officers. “Put out an APB! We’re looking for someone with huge black wings and a sniper rifle! They won’t be able to hide!”

The authority in his voice surprised even him, but it spurred the officers into action, scrambling to communicate with dispatch to organise a manhunt. With that out of the way, he turned back to the building the shooter was perched on, running towards it. Seven was back on her feet by now, right behind him.

She cleared the building in a single jump, disappearing over the edge of the roof. Steve wasn’t so blessed with augmented abilities, and as such had to painstakingly climb his way up the fire escape, activating muscles he probably hadn’t used in years. He was definitely going to be sore by tomorrow morning.

Finally, panting and gasping from exertion, he reached the roof, but it was too late. The winged person was nowhere to be seen. It was just their luck that their suspect would be able to fly. Still, they’d find them in time. There was no way someone with such an obvious power could hide themselves for long.

Seven was looking at the floor, where the shooter had been perched. Scattered around the area were a dozen long black feathers, no doubt left by their wings. Once again, Steve was hit by a memory he’d been trying to forget, of a night roughly eighteen months ago, where he’d seen an impossible sight that subsequently nose-dived his career.

~~~

It was a little past one in the morning on a cold winter’s night, and Steve Matthews was returning to precinct 23 to pick up some case files he needed to look over. It had been a long week, and exhaustion was clawing at him like a feral cat, trying to drag him to bed, but there was still work to be done. He promised himself that once he got back to his apartment, he would sleep and go over the files in the morning, and that assurance gave him the strength needed to keep going for these last few hours.

It was when he was just about to enter the precinct that it happened. The glass door flew open and Steve froze as he came face to face with the two girls running out. They froze in turn, staring him down. In the dim light from the street lamp, Steve could just about make out their appearances, and what he saw shook him to his core.

One girl was older; clearly an adult, and the other was probably in her early teens, if Steve had to guess. They were both dressed in identical black thermals and had shaved heads. The older one had a large pair of wings sprouting from her back, the feathers puffing up in anticipation. Both girls had the exact same face; one that should’ve belonged to a dead woman. The younger one’s eyes held a cocktail of fear, sorrow, and pain. In her older sister, there was only rage.

A small twitch of her feathers was all the warning he got before the older one was wrapping her arms around the teen, beating her wings against the cold air and disappearing into the dark sky, leaving Steve alone to contemplate the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

~~~

Steve remembered how hard Captain de Vygon had tried to convince him what he’d seen wasn’t real. He remembered all of the counselling sessions he’d been forced to go to, all the cases he’d been forced to drop because of his supposed ‘unstable mental state.’ According to de Vygon, of course it had been a hallucination! Why else would both girls have had the face of a dead superhero? Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes was one of the most famous superheroes Tombguard had ever seen, and Steve had even met her a handful of times before her death thanks to his niece. It made sense that his brain would pick out her face to put on the actors in its mysterious play. It was all just in his head. Steve had even started to believe it himself. Now, however…

Steve looked over at Seven. She came from precinct 23, just like those two mystery girls. What face hid underneath that visor of hers? Why was everything about her so weird? Just what exactly was de Vygon doing underneath the precinct?

Seven was still staring at those feathers. A thought occurred to him; a pit opening in his stomach. If those girls had all come from the same place, there was every possibility that they knew each other. And now, one of them had just shot Seven with clear intent to kill. Regardless of what else was going on behind the scenes, that had to sting.

“Did… Did you know who that was?” he asked carefully.

Seven hesitated, but ultimately shook her head. “N-no. Captain de Vygon has spoken of a girl with wings before, but I don’t know who she is.”

Her voice was slurring a little. Steve frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-”

—

“Did you hear that?” Brianna asked, craning her head around despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see anything, anyway.

“Hear what?” Viv replied. They were sitting together on a rooftop, enjoying a lunch break from their patrol. Not that there was really much to be patrolling for, especially not for a support hero and rescue hero, but it was a good excuse for both of them to get out of studying for a while, and enjoy the warm summer’s day. That reminded Vivienne that Maddie was probably about due to be dragged out of the house again, as well. Rosie would kill her if she let her wife rot inside all summer, and they hadn’t really done anything since Rosie’s death anniversary aside from hang out and play video games together.

Brea frowned. “Sounded like gunshots. Over in that direction.” She nodded her head down the street, her shoulder-length braids swishing back and forth with the movement.

“Should we go check it out?”

Brea shrugged. “If you wanna. I’m not too keen to get caught up in a fight or something, though.”

“We’ll just have a look from a distance,” Viv said. “If it’s something we can help with, maybe we can step in, but we’ll see.”

“Alrighty then, sounds good.”

The two of them stood up and Viv took Brianna’s hand. In an instant, the scenery changed and they were about two kilometres down the street. Brea shuddered - she still wasn’t very used to teleportation - as Viv looked around. There were a few police cars parked a ways away, and she could just about make out two people on a rooftop nearby.

“So?” Brea asked. “Anything interesting?”

Vivienne squinted. “A couple of cop cars, and… I think that’s my uncle? And that new hero that works with the police, too. They’re on a roof. Doesn’t look like anything dangerous is going on anymore.”

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering what that new hero’s deal is. I’ve heard a lot of weird rumours on the radio. What’s her name again? Seven?”

“Yeah. Maddie and I met her a couple weeks ago. We didn’t really get to chat though, because de Vygon showed up and swooped her away. Wanna see if we can say hi?”

“Might as well. Not like we’ve got much better to do. Just… warn me before we teleport next time, please? I know I can’t actually see that we’ve moved, but something about the way the air pressure pops just throws me off.”

“Sure, sorry about that.” She took Brianna’s hand again. “You ready?”

Brea took a deep breath and nodded. Vivienne focused on the empty space a few feet away from her uncle. She did a countdown for Brea’s benefit and as soon as she reached zero, Viv flipped the switch in her brain and the space that she was focusing on appeared under her feet. She turned her good cheer up to eleven and announced herself to the two police officers.

“Hey guys! What’s-”

Seven whipped around and a wave of darkness spilled from the seams in her armour, barrelling towards the two of them. Viv stumbled backwards, waving her hands.

“Wait, wait! Friendly!”

The wall of shadow stopped inches from her face, dissipating into the air. Seven didn’t drop her combat stance though, watching them through her visor like a hawk. Speaking of which, her visor looked seriously messed up. The opaque glass was spiderwebbed with cracks, coalescing at a point near her temple. Also, it sort of looked like there was a hole in her armour, right above her heart. What the heck happened here?

“I-it’s just me! You know, Vivienne? We met one time? Oh yeah, and this is Brianna, she’s my friend. Hi, uncle Steve!”

“Yo,” Brea said.

Steve sighed. “Hello Vivienne. This is a crime scene, you can’t be here.”

They must have startled Seven something fierce. Her whole body was shaking. Viv frowned, ignoring her uncle.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

The woman finally dropped the combat stance, putting a hand on her chest. “D-detective… I… I think the first shot pierced my armour…”

Steve whirled around. “What?! You said you were okay!”

“I- I thought… The shock must’ve… It… It hurts.” Her voice cracked into something almost like a sob at the end. Vivienne’s gut wrenched.

“Uncle! There’s a first-aid kit in your car, right?”

Steve blinked, taken aback. “Y-yes, but-”

“Brea, get her to lay down. I’ll be back soon!”

“You got it,” Brea replied.

Viv turned to Seven. “You can trust us, alright? I know first-aid; I’m studying to be a nurse right now. It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna fix you right up. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Seven nodded shakily. “O-okay…”

Vivienne jumped into action, grabbing her uncle’s wrist and teleporting him down to where the police cars were milling. He barked some orders at the other officers as they made their way to his car, relaying the situation and telling them to inform Captain de Vygon while Viv opened the trunk and grabbed the first-aid kit. She wasted no time teleporting them back to the roof-top, pleased to find Seven already lying on her back. Brea was holding her hand, speaking softly to her.

“Do you want to take your helmet off?” she asked. “You might be able to breathe a little easier without it.”

Seven shook her head. “Not allowed to let anyone see my face…”

“Well, I’m blind, so I won’t be able to see it anyway. If you’re more comfortable with it on, that’s fine.”

Seven reached a hand up, and for a moment Viv thought that she would get to see the face under the mask, but all she removed was her mouthpiece. Her lips were chapped and dry, and the surrounding skin was discoloured with fading bruises. Her bottom lip looked like it had been split recently. She and Steve shared a look. Clearly, he was thinking similar thoughts.

If Seven never took her helmet off when she was out, where had she taken those hits?

Viv tried to ignore it. That wasn’t important right now. She knelt down at Seven’s side, examining her abdomen.

“We’re gonna have to remove your chestplate to get a good look, Seven,” she explained. “Don’t worry, help is on the way. We’re just gonna make sure you’re as well as you can be until they get here.”

“Latches ‘re under the armpits,” Seven replied, slurring slightly. Without the electronics in the mask obscuring it, her voice was soft. It had a rough sort of cadence that reminded Viv a little bit of Rosie, only without the hispanic accent.

Viv followed her instructions, finding the latches and pulling the chestplate off. If the state of what little she could see of Seven’s face had shocked her, then she definitely wasn’t prepared for the state of her bare torso. She sucked in a breath, and heard her uncle curse quietly.

Below her armour, Seven was wearing nothing but a sports bra, leaving very little to the imagination and filling Vivienne with some very conflicted emotions. On one hand, Seven was fucking sculpted. She looked like a goddamn greek statue, and the sight of those sweaty planes of muscled, tanned skin were leaving Viv a little breathless. On the other hand, it looked like someone had used her abdomen as a punching bag, leaving a tapestry of colourful bruising across every inch of aforementioned skin. What was even more concerning than that, however, were the two sloppily stitched-up cuts intersecting each other on the upper-left side of her belly. They were too clean to be anything other than intentionally made, and clearly the patch-up was far from a professional job. Vivienne didn’t know what to think about any of this, but it was giving her a distinctly bad feeling.

She pushed all of those thoughts down. Now wasn’t the time. Seven was her patient, and right now all that mattered was finding and assessing the damage from the bullet she was presumably shot with. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find at all. A large patch of blood had saturated the cotton of her bra right above her sternum, surrounding a very obvious hole.

The fact that she was still conscious and alive meant that the bullet had most likely been slowed down enough by her armour to be stopped by her sternum, but Viv doubted that the bone remained entirely intact in the process. It was a marvel that she was still able to move about in the way she had. Either Seven was very used to pain, or she was still bursting at the seams with adrenaline. Based on the state of her body, it was probably a mix of both. The only certainty was that she needed a hospital. Until professionals arrived, Viv and Brea would just have to do their best for her.

Step one was to find the bullet. If it was deeply embedded in the bone, there wouldn’t be anything they could do for her now aside from slowing the bleeding, but they might be able to remove it themselves if it just impacted the surface. There weren’t any major blood vessels in that area, so they could probably do most of the patch-up work on site.

“Brea, can you check how deep the bullet is?” Viv asked.

Brianna nodded, moving her hand closer to Seven’s chest. Two of her fingers disappeared, turning into thin wisps of smoke that then drifted daintily down onto Seven’s body. The smoke wafted around searchingly until it found the hole, sinking into it and examining the interior painlessly.

“It seems like it’s just below the surface of her skin. Doesn’t feel like it’s fragmented or anything. We shouldn’t have any problems removing it here.”

“Cool,” Viv replied, pulling on some gloves from the first-aid kit and searching for a pair of tweezers.

“Don’t worry,” Seven muttered. “I’ve got it.”

Vivienne was about to protest when blackness began to seep across Seven’s skin from the shadowed edges of her armour. It travelled like a liquid, remaining flush with her body as it slipped under her bra and amassed in the bullet hole. Seven tensed up, balling her fists and clenching her teeth, clearly trying to power through the pain of whatever she was doing. Viv was a little too distracted by the mouth-watering sight of her tensed abs to question it. After a few seconds, Seven relaxed, her body deflating with a sigh as a flattened, gore-covered bullet rose from the hole, lifted by a pillar of shadow, before being discarded and rolling away down the side of her chest, leaving a trail of red on the cotton in its wake.

Viv blinked. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“‘s not the first time I’ve had to pull shrapnel out of myself,” Seven replied.

Well then. Just another thing to file away under the ‘weird and concerning things about this new superhero’ tab in her brain.

Vivienne took a second to get her brain back in order. This next part was important.

“Alright, well… Are you okay with me lifting your bra so we can patch up the wound?”

Seven waved a hand that flopped limply back to the ground. That wasn’t a great sign. “Go right ahead.”

Viv took a breath and ripped the metaphorical band-aid off, lifting the garment and looking only at the bloody wound on her chest, refusing to let her eyes drift anywhere else. Time to do her thing.

“I know I said we’d do our best for you here, but you should really go to a hospital just to be safe. The risk of infection here is pretty high,” Vivienne explained as she gently rubbed the wound down with an iodine wipe. Brea kept hold of Seven’s hand, whispering comforting nothings to her to distract her focus away from the pain Viv was no-doubt causing.

Seven shook her head. “N… No hospital. Not allowed.”

Oh boy. It just got worse and worse with this one, didn’t it?

“Do you at least have some sort of medical facility you can go to?”

Seven nodded, so at least that was one less thing for Vivienne to lose sleep about. She pulled out a bandage and placed it over the wound, deciding it was safer not to stitch it up here in case she missed anything that the actual doctors would need access to treat. With that done, she pulled Seven’s bra back down into its place.

“Well, that’s about all I can do for that right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Viv asked.

Seven let out what was probably supposed to be a considering hum, but it ended up sounding more like a groan. “Mm, I dunno… Thanks for your help, though. You guys’re nice. And you’re really pretty, too.”

Brianna barked out a laugh as Viv’s insides got caught in a vice. “O-oh. Um, thank you.” She could feel her face burning with an obvious blush. Stupid redhead genes.

“What about me?” Brea asked, smirking.

“Yah, I meant you, too,” Seven clarified. Her voice was slurring a lot now. “I really like your… your face. ‘s nice.”

Brea was trying to act cool, but Viv could still see her dark complexion deepening from the blush on her cheeks, too.

Steve - who had walked away once Viv removed Seven’s bra for the sake of her modesty - made his way back over to them. “Seven, do you have a concussion? You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Oh, uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Viv groaned. “Of course you do. How do you even know?”

“My visor can check for it… That bullet hit me in the head pretty hard, so the first thing I did was get it to check.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Steve asked.

“A lil’ bump‘s no reason to stop working.”

“We should take your helmet off to check. It might be pretty serious,” Viv said.

Seven shook her head again. “Not allowed.”

“Seven, I’m not kidding! You could be in real danger and we’ve had no idea this whole time!”

Steve sighed. “It’s fine, Vivienne. You’ve done good. Her medical team will take care of the rest. Speaking of which…” he trailed off, glancing over the edge of the building. “Looks like the cavalry’s here.”

Everything moved quickly from thereon. A group of people ascended up the fire escape with a stretcher and carefully laid Seven out on top of it. They were about to make the painstaking journey down when Viv just offered to teleport them. It would be dangerous taking her down the fire escape, and the quicker Seven got some proper medical attention for her head, the better. It wasn’t long before she was bundled into the armoured van and driven away to wherever her supposed ‘medical centre’ was, leaving Vivienne, Brianna, and Steve alone on the roof.

“Yeesh,” Brianna said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “That girl has issues.”

Steve shook his head. “Everything about her is just… giving me a bad feeling.”

“I’ll say,” Viv replied. “Did you see the state of her torso? Those bruises were awful! Not to mention the cuts…”

“I’d suspected something like that. The way she’s been moving recently, it was obvious that she was in pain. And I’d bet good money that Andreas de Vygon had something to do with it. He practically has her on a leash.”

The name made Vivienne’s blood boil. That man was truly scum. He’d tormented the Union for years, harassing and slandering her and her friends. Why any superhero would choose to join him was beyond her. That being said, the more she learned about the mysterious woman, the more it seemed like it might not have been a choice after all.

“There’s gotta be something we can do, right?” Brea asked, voicing Viv’s thoughts. “If de Vygon’s mistreating her, surely there’s someone we can tell about it to get her out of his hands?”

“He would just cover it up,” Steve said. He let out a breath, rubbing his face with weary exhaustion. “Look, the only thing I know for sure is that that woman is strong enough to take down the entire precinct if she wanted. If she had a problem with how she was being treated, she could get herself out of it. De Vygon might have influence, but he’s just a normal man when it comes to power. Seven could easily kill him if he angered her. We’re probably just looking too much into it. Those injuries could easily just be from combat training or something.”

Vivienne sighed, looking out over the city in the direction Seven’s medical team had left in. “I hope you’re right, uncle. I really, really do.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue

Even in the midst of a concussion and a broken sternum, Jordyn can't help but be a hopeless lesbian

Viv didn't really get as much introspection into her character as I would've liked but that's just because she was so focused on Jordyn that there was no time for that. Chapter was ballooning a lot as is. I'm sure she'll get more later :)

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought! Comments and reblogs very appreciated :)

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whumpblr #whump #living weapon whump #whump writing #gun whump #creative writing #blind character #medical whump

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call-me-little-sunshine84 · 1 year

Text

Slow Heat

SSA Matt Simmons x female reader

Rating: explicit - minors DNI

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: After wanting Matt for so long, what will you do when you finally get him?

Warnings: smut! - mentioned masturbation - oral sex (m receiving) - unprotected sex - multiple orgasms - canon divergence

A/N: this is set in an AU where he is divorced - there is a horrible lack of Matt smut and I don't think I would do justice to the husband/wife vibe but didn't want to make him a cheater

“Morning Matt,” you said cheerily as he entered the office. “Good morning,” he replied tersely, juggling his bag and a cup of coffee. He hadn’t been the same since telling everyone about the divorce. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through, trying to get used to his new reality, and learning to coparent with that many kids.

A small, awful part of you was secretly glad he was getting divorced. It made the way you felt about him, and had felt ever since you met, a little more acceptable. Married man = giant no in your book. Divorced man = okay to fantasize about, which you did more often than was probably normal. There was also the small fact that you worked together. Sure, you worked in tech, it’s not like you went out in the field with the team, but they still treated you like one of their own - probably thanks to your friendship with Garcia. Office romances hardly ever worked out. Still…you couldn’t help but watch him every time he walked past, your heart skipping a beat when he smiled at you.

Wanting to be respectful to what he was going through, you kept all your feelings to yourself. It was so hard when all you wanted to do was spend one night with him, showing him how eager you were to please him. Instead, you just ended up pleasing yourself while thinking about what he must look like underneath his clothes. It went on like that for months, you lusting after him from the sidelines, until one night after a particularly bad case.

The team had returned to the office, looks of defeat and anger plainly written on their faces. You just happened to still be there, finishing up a last-minute assignment. Your heart sank when you looked up at them getting off the elevator. “Oh no, what happened?” you asked, concerned. “The perp got away,” Rossi replied, shaking his head. “Damn, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. “We’re going to go get a drink, need to shake this off. Do you want to join us?” he asked. “Sure, why not,” you replied, happy for the break. You were stiff and sore from sitting in a chair all day.

Everyone grabbed their things, and you walked around the block to the nearby tavern. Thanks to Penelope switching seats with you - after a less than subtle wink and shoulder nudge - you ended up sitting next to Matt. At first you were extremely nervous, but you were surprised to find that talking to him came easily. The conversation stayed steady, both of you talking about your families, hobbies, favorite movies, everything. The others slowly began to say their goodbyes, and before long you realized it was just the two of you left.

“Oh wow, I guess I need to get back home,” you said, looking at the time on your phone. “I’ll go with you, make sure you get there okay,” Matt offered with a smile. “You really don’t have to, it’s not like either of us drank that much,” you replied. And it was true, you switched to coke after a few shots, and he had been sipping the same beer all night. “Really, I insist,” he told you. Pretty sure that your face had turned several unflattering shades of red, you relented, grabbing your purse. The walk back to the office to get his car as well as the ride back to your apartment, were filled with awkward silence. What happened to the way you had been at the bar?

Pulling into the parking lot, he offered to walk you to the door. You took him up on it, not knowing what would come next. Standing at your doorway, you looked at him, wishing the night wasn’t over. “Want to come in for some coffee?” you asked, holding your breath until he replied. “Sure,” he said, and you unlocked your door with trembling hands. Throwing your bag down on the counter, you picked up two coffee mugs and were about to begin making the first one when Matt walked up behind you.

Standing so close you could feel the heat coming off of his body, smell the cologne he was wearing, you resisted the urge to lean back against him. Instead, you stiffened, unsure of what to do or say. Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, turning you around to face him. Looking up at him questioningly, his face so close to yours, you gasped as he ran his hand gently across your jawline, sending sparks through your body. “Matt, what are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, your body on edge just from that little bit of contact. Instead of answering, he leaned down and kissed you slowly and sweetly. “I think we could both use this, don’t you?” he asked, moving his body even closer to you. It was true, it had been a long time since anything but your vibrator had brought you to paradise.

“If you had any idea of how many times I had fantasized about this, you wouldn’t even have to ask,” you replied in a surprising burst of boldness. Never in your wildest dreams did you think any of this would actually be happening. He growled at your response and moved in to kiss you again, this time fast and hard. His hands roamed your body slowly in contrast, exploring every inch of you.

Dragging him into your bedroom, you pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. Holy shit you thought, running your hands over his muscled abs, practically drooling at the sight of him. Pushing him back onto the bed, you undid his belt and removed his pants. He was already hard, and just the outline of him straining against his boxers had you practically dripping. You kissed and licked a slow trail down his perfect body, working your way down to what you wanted most. Your eyes widened when you freed his dick from his underwear and the smirk on his face made you want to climb on him right that second, but you somehow controlled yourself, deciding to make this last as long as possible.

Taking him in your mouth, you flattened your tongue and ran it up and down his shaft while sucking gently, and he groaned deeply in appreciation. One hand around his base and the other gripping his muscular thigh, you worked your magic on him, bringing him right to the edge before he pushed you back, not wanting to finish too soon.

Eagerly shedding your clothes, you rejoined him on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck, raising goosebumps all over. Going lower, he cupped your breasts, wrapping his lips around one hardened nipple while gently massaging the other. Moaning, feeling like your body would ignite at any moment, you almost jumped off the bed when he reached a hand down and ran his fingers through your slick folds.

“Damn, you really did want this, didn’t you?” he grinned, feeling just how excited you were for him. All you could do was groan his name as he dragged his fingers through your walls, hitting that sweet spot that you always had trouble finding yourself. Two fingers worked inside you while his thumb made sweet circles on your clit. You looked up at him, his already dark eyes almost black, clouded with lust. It was enough, just knowing you were the cause of that look of absolute desire on his face, to push you over the edge. You climaxed, thighs trembling against his hand.

Giving yourself no time to ride out your high, you pushed him back against the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. “Oh my God,” he grunted, a look of absolute devotion on his face as you lowered yourself down onto him slowly.

The stretch and slight burn went away quickly as you adjusted to his size, and you found a steady pace. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, and you ground down on him eagerly. Who knew sex could feel this good you thought to yourself. After all the months of longing for Matt, this was actually happening. He moved his hands up to grasp your breasts, bringing you back to reality. You rolled your hips even harder and faster, that invisible coil in your belly growing tighter, threatening to snap again. Your nails digging crescent shaped marks into his chest, you felt your second orgasm sweep through you. Squeezing down around him as you continued to ride him, Matt groaned your name as he also found release. Collapsing against him on the bed, your sweat slicked bodies sticking together, you sighed contentedly. Slowly tracing the tattoo on his bicep, he asked if you were okay. “Of course. I told you; I’ve wanted that for a long time now,” you replied. He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You know, for a profiler you really missed all the signs, didn’t you?” you said with a laugh.

#matt simmons smut #matt simmons x reader #matt simmons x you #matt simmons imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #daniel henney #matt simmons

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vee-beeee · 11 months

Text

Its raining somewhere

HELLLOO

Heres a little itsy bitsy one

Premise: you and Connor talk and snuggle when its rainy. VERY cozy vibes

Warnings: maybe a little sad than my usual fluff. still very fluffy tho :) reader had a hard day :(

Guys i live for comfort fics LOL

Connor x reader

╰┈➤---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's raining outside.

You sleepily open your heavy eye lids and look out the window, that's being covered in rain drops from the storm outside. Letting out a soft sigh, you tug the blanket covering your body closer to your chin to get more comfortable.

You also nuzzle into your android pillow, that's currently resting below you.

Connor shifts his head above yours and moves your body in between his legs so your closer to him. You move up slightly on his body to lean your head against his chest and splay your hands on either side of his form, and you make sure to turn your body so you still have a view out the window.

Connor lets out a long breath, one that tickles the hair on your head, and moves his arms so they are securely wrapped around you. He shifts a little more before going still beneath you, and you realize he re-entered his rest mode. You stir a little to look up at his peaceful face, his LED lighting up the room with a calm blue.

Its cozy.

You close your eyes once again and let your thoughts lazily drift to think back on the hard day you've had.

You had a difficult case this morning (one that really took a toll on your psyche) and Gavin of course was a nuisance to your entire investigation. He was always a little more annoying when Connor and Hank were out of the office. At lunch you barely got to eat your food because someone messed up the files for said case and you had to fix it before there were serious repercussions.

Then Connor and Hank brought in a perp that was a kicker. He caused a whole ruckus in the office, and totally clipped you in the kneecap when you had rushed to help.

Connor was super done with him after that.

Following that fiasco, you were confined to your chair per "doctors orders". So you had to try to do all of your work from your desk, which was a little but of a pain. You even swore to him that after 30 minutes you felt all better, but

Connor be Connor.

(Which just means that he would rather carry you everywhere or just do it himself than let you walk somewhere injured)

Then, to top the day off, Fowler discontinued one of your cases. You knew you were close, you just needed more time. But your protests fell on deaf ears as the big boss dismissed you.

Connor immediately shot up from his desk when he saw your exasperated look as you lightly shut the door behind you, and quickly came to your side, his expression full of concern.

You had gone to the bathroom for a few minutes after that, and Connor stayed with you the whole time. You both just stood in the middle of the room hugging, and luckily no one came in.

You may have cried a little. Just a tad. It was all a little overstimulating.

Connor had insisted that you leave early after that. He didn't take any "no's" or "but's" for answers. He informed Hank that he was leaving to take care of you, and the lieutenant simply gave him a small thumbs up and told you to take care.

(And then promptly left himself)

You leaned on the car door the whole ride home, watching the water droplets run down the window. You were totally racing them in your head, and when you sighed as your droplet lost again, Connor tilted his head and asked what you were doing. To which you softly smiled and told him, and he just gave you a lazy grin and continued driving, telling you that you were cute.

And as soon as you got home, both of you got changed into softer clothes and Connor got you all wrapped snuggly into a blanket, and then threw you onto the couch. So there you had sat, all nuzzled into the blanket while your loving android got you hot cocoa, and set it on the small table in front of the couch. You took a sip before he took you into his arms and laid down on the couch.

and here you were

encased in his limbs while you continued to watch the water droplets race down your floor to ceiling window. Feeling Connor breathe deeply beneath you.

You were just thinking of falling asleep when you heard an intake of breath.

"Are you still awake Honey?" moving your head across his chest to plant your chin on his pecs, you were met by his shiny honey brown eyes. You mumbled a quick "I'm falling asleep I promise" to which he chuckled, and brought a hand to rub itself on your back. He whispered a soft "get to sleep" before he was out again.

You closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off sleep while the android below you unconsciously drew you closer to his resting body.

A pretty good rainy day.

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I truly dont know if this is trash or good butttt HERE IT IS

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING

I like comfort fics you guys 😭

I SWEAR im going to start writing longer stories soon lol

#dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh rk800 #detroit become human #dbh hank

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natsarrownecklacx · 2 years

Text

Small Town Sheriff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary- Natasha’s mission is to keep you safe. Natasha never fails a mission, well, usually. Based on a request.

word count- 2202

Warnings- Gun shot wound, asshole Hydra agent, passing out, blood

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Crime scenes, murder, detective work, suspects, interrogations, clues. These are things you know all too well. It’s what you’ve trained for. Gone to school to study for. Have years and years of experience with.

What you don’t have an abundance of experience with is sharing your caseload with entitled, big city cops. Or in this case cop, singular. A red haired, five foot five, over confident, smug, cop.

Sometimes when cases involve higher scale investigations the FBI have to come in. But considering your small town is located in what you consider "the back ass of nowhere” that doesn’t happen often. Maybe one or two cases tops in the past ten years. Both times, the perp had come into town looking for a place to hide from the authorities. It’s why everyone in your town is weary of outsiders; they bring trouble.

Everyone knows everyone in a town like yours. That’s how, when Natalia Roman first set foot in your office, claiming to be your partner for the case you’d just opened, you’d immediately spotted her as an outsider. Alluring, but an outsider nonetheless.

At first her charming demeanor and kind smile had honestly captivated you. She was professional, always handling her job with the utmost care. She always made sure that things were in order, warrants, permits, evidence, everything. She was a huge help. She was also funny, never failing to make you laugh or bring a smile to your face. Despite your town's unspoken rule against outsiders, you found that you genuinely liked spending time with her. She made the usual uneventful days at work more enjoyable, even making you look forward to going to work to see her.

But then you began to notice how, sometimes, when she thought you wouldn’t notice, she mentioned things she shouldn’t know. Things about you or other residents in the town that she couldn’t have found out from any files or town gossip. The latter being because everyone refused to talk to her. Something that got in the way of her interviewing witnesses, which you didn’t really mind. It just meant that she couldn’t do interrogations alone, so you more or less always did them together.

Then there was this one witness you brought in for questioning who Natalia straight up refused to leave you alone with. You even had to pull rank, saying that because it was your town and your case, you should be able to question the witness alone. The witness, a smug man, refused to talk in her presence; something that struck you as odd. What you found even more odd was the hardened look she directed toward the man when she thought you weren’t looking.

Natalia, surprisingly, disagreed, saying how she technically ranked above you and how she couldn’t leave you alone with a potential dangerous witness. She even became hostile, saying that if you refused to cooperate she would have you removed from the case. That was the one and only time Natalia had pushed back on a boundary you’d set. The speed at which she moved from her usual kind demeanor to almost threatening made you pause.

After that, you’d immediately tagged her in your mind as untrustworthy, as outsiders usually are in your town.

You couldn’t figure out what her motivation was for being here, only that she’d lied about the real reason she’d come in the first place. You know for certain because you’d called one of your friends at the FBI and asked about her. They knew nothing of her, not her name, not what she looked like, nothing. As far as they were concerned there wasn’t even an agent in your town.

Not one belonging to them anyway.

Your friend had urged you to stay away from her. To allow them to call it in, send you some backup and have her hauled out of there. But you refused. Some part of you told you it was better to keep her close by. That she needed to be here, your gut instincts told you so. And they’d never let you down before, so why should you believe they would now.

Right now, as you lay on the ground bleeding, you think back to that thought and scoff. You should’ve let your friend come in and take her in for questioning. Maybe then there wouldn’t be a bullet sized hole in your thigh.

It hurts like hell and there’s a lot of blood, too much blood. You’ve been shot before, it’s kind of inevitable in your job. But that was different to this. There’s a searing pain that spreads through your whole body each time you try to move even an inch. The blood pooling from your leg is a deep, dark red. It’s a fatal shot. You know that. The bullet probably nicked your femoral artery, meaning you're going to die soon. Alone and bleeding out on the floor.

You can’t help but laugh at the thought. Of all the places to die of course you’d end up doing it here. I’m a run down old warehouse at the edge of the town.

You’d followed that same suspect out here, the one that started your distrust with Natalia. You’d seen her put something under the hood of his car as you were driving home and decided to follow him, wanting to see what it was she put there.

Apparently he wasn’t too fond of being trailed. Something you wish you’d done more stealthy. He led you inside, giving the impression he thought he was alone, then, when you least expected it, he shot you.

“You think this is funny?” He asks, a perplexed look on his face as he hovers over you. Placing his booted foot on top of your bullet wound he presses down, a sickening smile spreading over his face as you scream out in pain. “Not laughing now are you.”

“Please.” You beg as he puts more of his body weight on your leg. At this point you’re convinced the bullet has lodged itself into your bone.

“Please.” He mocks, a fake pout on his face. “How pathetic. You’re meant to be sheriff and you’re here begging like a little bitch.”

You close your eyes as shame washes over you. He’s right, you’re better than this, you can do more than this. Taking a deep breath you pull together every bit of strength you have inside you. In a quick motion you lift your uninjured leg to bend it back against your chest before kicking him full force into the knee.

The man drops to the floor, a yelp leaving his mouth as he hits the ground with a thud. Without a second's hesitation, he lunges toward you, rage clear in his eyes as he screams. “You bitch!”

Acting on pure instinct, and the last of your adrenalin, you kick him in the face, a sickening crunch sounding through the room before his unconscious body hits the floor, blood pouring from his nose.

Your body, weakened from the blood loss, slumps back against the ground. You vaguely register a noise from the front of the house, the front door slamming open and hitting against the wall behind it with a violent smack. Fast passed footsteps echo off the walls, someone’s running through the house.

“Y/n.” A voice you recognise sounds off somewhere in the room. “Oh shit.”

You can feel someone lifting your leg, wrapping a bandage around it. The pain you feel at the action has you attempting to shuffle away from them, wanting to curl into yourself to protect yourself from the pain. Strong hands still you by your shoulders, one going to cup your cheek before both disappear back to bandage your leg.

You think the person is talking to you. Something that sounds a lot like your name keeps being spoken into the room, but you can't process the words, not really. Not with your hearing fading in and out as you battle against the unconsciousness that wants so badly to consume you.

The bandage around your wound tightness to an intolerable level, the pressure added to the gash on your leg making you cry out in pain. “I know, I’m sorry.”

You want to tell them to stop. That it hurts too much. You're too tired. But your voice doesn’t seem to be working, instead all that comes out is a whimper of pain.

The person hovers over you, a messy blur of red, black and pale skin. You blink your eyes to rid yourself of the bleariness, willing yourself to focus on the person trying to save your life.

The first thing your eyes settle on is a pair of green orbs. They’re so pretty. They hold so much concern and what looks to be fear but god, they are so, so pretty. Her hair comes into focus next, along with the rest of her. Natalia, you think, and you can’t help but be grateful that it’s her who found you.

“Just stay awake. Okay? Please. Help will be here soon.”

Her mouth is moving, but you can’t hear a word she’s saying. So you just keep your eyes locked on hers. How could you never have noticed how beautiful they are before.

“I should have been here sooner. I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have known you’d do something like this. Shit!”

Natasha continues to hold pressure to the wound, her hands trembling slightly as she does so, until help arrives. You drift in and out of consciousness on your way to the hospital. Each time you wake you look groggily for Natalia. She’s always positioned to your left, her hand holding yours tightly.

This time when you wake Natalia is not next to you but standing at the foot of your bed arguing with a man wearing a long black coat. “You were supposed to watch her Natasha! To keep her safe! How could you let this happen!”

Natasha stands in a defensive position. Her shoulders squared and her jaw clenched as she faced the man in front of her. “I got distracted. It won’t happen again.”

Natasha? You think to yourself. But before you can finish the thought you drift into the darkness again.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, y/n.” Her voice whispers into the room. You’re waking up, slowly, but you keep your eyes closed, not watching to interrupt her. “I was supposed to protect you but instead I got distracted by you and you got hurt. I’m so sorry.”

Something wet drops onto your hand, it takes you less than half a second to realize it's a tear. “Nat?” You ask, your voice horse from not being used. Slowly you blink open your eyes to see Natasha with a shocked look on her face. Quickly she looks between your eyes to your hand held securely in hers.

“Sorry.” She mumbles. “Thought you were asleep.” She lets go of your hand, rounding the table to get you a glass of water. Wordlessly, she hands you the glass and you drink from it gratefully.

Natasha takes a minute to watch you, letting the fact that she did in fact save you sink in.

You wince as you try to sit up in your bed. Surprise filling you at the speed in which Natasha found herself at your side trying to help you. Once you're settled Natasha sits in the chair she previously occupied.

She’s acting differently than she did before. Something about her giving a more authentic vibe. She holds herself differently, her voice is a few pitches lower, even her eyes look to be a slightly darker shade of green.

“Who are you?” You ask, preparing yourself for a long, complicated answer.

Natasha shifts in her chair, uncomfortably. She wants you to know her, she wants you to be around for a long time. But she’s not sure if she can trust you just yet. So she settles on easing you into it.

Shaking her head Natasha sends a soft smile your way. “Another day. For now, you need to rest.”

You reluctantly accept her answer, wanting to know everything there is to know about her but also understanding there needs to be a certain level of trust for that to happen.

You lay back down on the bed, Natasha watching from her seat as your head hits the pillow and your eyes instantly become heavy. “Will you be here when I wake up?” You ask, a certain vulnerability to your voice. You want her to be there when you wake up. You want her to stay.

Natasha fights against herself to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, finding you too adorable for words at that moment. “Yes.” She answers. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t go anywhere.”

“You promise?” You ask without missing a beat.

Natasha smiles at that, this time leaning forward to tuck that stray hair behind her ear when she gets the urge. “I promise.”

With that you fall asleep. Natasha’s hand held between both of your own. The warmth from it lulling you to sleep as you think about what tomorrow has in store for you.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #black widow x you

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deanstead · 2 years

Text

Murder Next Door || Part 2

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When one of Jay’s neighbours is found dead, both he and Y/N find themselves right smack in the middle of what could turn out to be a very dangerous situation.

Word Count: 2,925

Tags/Warnings: canon-typical mentions of murder, blood, idiots-in-love

A/N: Thanks to bestie @mertes4cker for looking through a small part for me so that I ultimately pushed through with this! Here's Part 2! Let me know what you guys think, I hope yall like it! Any mistakes are all mine!

MINI SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Part 1 || Part 3

Jay glanced at his watch, once again feeling the familiar irritation of being one step behind a perp rise from his gut and wash over him.

Exhaling, Jay stood and glanced around the empty bullpen. Voight had dismissed everyone about two hours ago but Jay had stayed behind to dig further into Abbie’s personal relationships to see if he could find anything but all he could come up with was a list of people that Abbie had been seeing recently. Kim was really much better at this part.

So he got up, deciding that he should get back, get some shut-eye and check in on you as well.

You hadn’t said anything else to Jay about the case, about Abbie, or even about the mystery man, but Jay knew you too well. So you didn’t need to. Jay knew that a part of you was already running ‘what-ifs’ through your mind, despite your silence.

Jay made it back in record time since the streets were pretty empty, even for this time of night. He even had time to stop and get a smoothie for you before your favourite place closed.

Jay looked back at his watch as he jogged up the stairs, smiling a little as he imagined the expression you’d have when he brought home the smoothie, mentally smacking himself.

Seriously, Jay. Stop it.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it any longer when he reached the landing, his eyes immediately falling on the sight of you standing at the slightly ajar door, someone dressed somewhat as a police officer standing in front of you, his hand on the door.

Jay barely registered the growl of protectiveness that rose within him before he was there, sliding himself in between you and the stranger.

“Detective Halstead, Intelligence. Is there a problem?” Jay said, his hand sliding behind him and closing around yours protectively as he gently pushed you further back into the apartment.

You felt the relief flood you, your fingers unconsciously wrapping back around his hand.

There was a silence from the man, before he shook his head. “We’ve been sent to make routine checks. As long as everything is fine.” He said, his voice losing just a tinge of the confidence he had had just a second before. With that, he turned and left down the corridor.

Jay waited, watching him head straight for the staircase at the other end of the building without stopping at any other doors before he headed back in and closed the door behind him.

“You okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

Jay belatedly realized you were still holding hands so he gently let go. Your eyes flicked downwards at that moment and you froze, realizing how much of a death grip you still had on him before you loosened your fingers. “Sorry.”

To cover up the awkwardness, Jay raised the smoothie he had, watching the smile spread across your face as he had predicted.

“10 points to Halstead.” You grinned.

Jay angled his eyebrow up. “Just ten?” He teased, handing you the drink, but inserting the straw into the drink for you.

“What did he want?” Jay asked now, turning his head back towards the main door.

You glanced up from where you were drinking and shrugged. “He said he had follow up questions about the… the murder.” You told Jay, even though you felt this buzzed feeling in your gut that it was something much more than that, now that you felt safe enough for everything to process.

Jay frowned and you could tell - his worried frown.

“And he asked to come in.” You said, your voice smaller now because you knew Jay was going to jump.

“What?” The growl came almost immediately. “And he was alone the whole time? Did he give you a badge number? Which district he was from? His name? Anything?”

You put your hand up. “One question at a time, Jay.” You took a breath and stole another sip of the smoothie. “It was… weird. Like you know that feeling I have… that gut feeling? There was something off but I couldn’t place it. It was…”

You paused, as the memory hit you now, before you took a sharp inhale of breath.

“His voice.”

Jay looked up. “What?”

You looked up again, your eyes shaking this time and Jay moved forward to take the drink from your hands, using the opportunity to stand a little closer. “That’s what was familiar. I’d heard his voice before.”

Jay frowned but didn’t say anything.

“That night. That guy that didn’t want to take his keys out.”

Jay’s eyes widened.

“That’s where I’ve heard his voice before.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay glanced at where you were sitting in the pantry of the bullpen with Kim, before he turned back to Voight. “This asshole is testing us. Testing her.” He said through gritted teeth.

Voight studied Jay for a while more before he turned back to the rest of the team. “Alright, what do we have?”

Kevin glanced at Jay. “We ran down all her boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, anyone we could find but everyone checks out.”

“So we have nothing?” Jay’s voice went up a few notches.

No one said anything for a beat, the silence only broken by Hailey’s ringtone.

“Upton.” Hailey answered, as Jay turned back to look at you again, where Kim was sitting with you, just as you looked up and gave him a smile.

Jay smiled, putting up an “okay?” sign, to which you nodded and responded back.

The frustration was overwhelming. All he wanted to do, other than catch this son of a bitch, was to take you into his arms and protect you from any other danger. And he couldn’t even do that because you had no idea. You had no idea that he’d been in love with you, and Jay was hesitant to shake the stability that the both of you had established. Friends were better than nothing, right?

“That was Abbie’s sister.” Hailey said as she got off the phone.

Jay frowned. “I thought she wasn’t in the country.”

Hailey nodded. “We managed to track her down after all. Let’s go talk to her.”

Jay glanced back in your direction before he nodded. “Yeah, give me five.”

Jay headed in to the pantry, opening the closed door and Kim smiled. “Hey Y/N, I gotta go… settle something. You gonna be okay?” Jay asked.

Kim pushed back her chair. “Let me know when you’re ready.” She said, leaning forward to squeeze your arm.

As Kim closed the door behind her, you glanced back at Jay and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Which you were. Actually, you were pretty sure that Jay was more on edge than you were, judging by the way he was just standing.

So you reached out, a little impulsively, for his hand.

“I’ll be fine. Kim’s going to send me back to your place and for the time being I’m supposed to focus on my novel, anyway.” You paused. “And you’re on the case.”

Jay exhaled a little forcefully, squatting down to be on eye level with you. “Alright, don’t be a hero and just… be careful okay? Call me if anything happens and whatever you do, unless it’s me, Will, or someone from the team, do not open the door.

You smiled back at him before you nodded. “Got it.”

Jay put an affectionate hand on your head. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

You nodded again, watching Jay leave, the smile still lingering on your face.

Even if you could only be friends, at least you could be by his side.

“Hi, Eva? I’m Detective Upton, we spoke on the phone.” Hailey introduced herself to the lady who opened the door. “And this is my partner, Detective Halstead.”

Jay gave her a small smile and nod.

Eva Walker smiled back at the both of them before she stepped back. “Yeah, come on in.”

She led them silently towards the sitting room. “Can I get you something?”

Jay shook his head with a smile and Hailey just motioned for her to sit down.

Eva was silent for a while, before her eyes roamed around the room. “Abbie and I grew up here, it was my parents’ house.” She said, her voice holding a hint of sadness.

Hailey let a beat of silence fall before she spoke again. “Were you guys close?”

Eva let her eyes find Hailey’s blue ones, before she nodded. “Yeah. My work is mainly overseas, but we used to talk a lot, even so.”

“Used to?” Hailey prompted.

Eva exhaled. “She was behaving a little weirdly recently, again. I thought he’d found her again, but she didn’t say anything and I didn’t want to push.” She paused. “I should have pushed.”

“He?” Jay asked, picking up on it immediately.

Eva glanced up now. “She had this guy stalking her. It’s why she moved around so much. She only came back to Chicago because my mother was ill and he hadn’t contacted her for a bit. She's been back for a few years. The detective on the case thought he might have moved on.” She paused. “Abbie joked about it with me - the safest place is also the most dangerous place, right?”

This was new information, and Jay finally felt like they were getting somewhere.

“But he was never identified?” Jay asked.

Eva shook her head. “The detective was sweet, he checked in on her regularly but there wasn’t much he could do, you know? They tried lifting prints off the stuff she received, but it didn’t go anywhere.”

“Do you still have the detective’s number?”

Hailey and Jay had gone straight to see the detective on the case, but they were essentially back at square one since they had had no suspects. It had probably been a stranger, someone Abbie had probably met during a random encounter.

Stalkers were the worst to find, even when their stalking victims were alive. And now that Abbie wasn’t, it’d be hard to retrace her steps.

But at least, when Hailey and Jay returned to the bullpen, not all of it was bad news. They’d found two different blood types at the crime scene, one belonging to the victim, another belonging to an unknown male that was not in the system.

Even so, with the new information that Abbie had had a stalker, Kim had delved deeper into Abbie’s communication records, finding calls that traced back to different burner cells that lasted for less than a minute for each call. Voight had sent Kevin and Kim to go trace each of the cells, to see if they could track him from the source of the burner.

Voight had then sent Jay home to be with you since he was worried, and for good reason. As he stepped past the threshold, Jay's phone rang.

“Yeah.” Jay answered, glancing around the empty sitting room, noting that you were probably in your room.

Kim’s voice crackled from the other side of the line. “Platt called me. They’re not signing off on 24/7 protection.”

“What?”

Jay could hear Kim’s audible breath, like she had seen this coming.

“Jay, look I know you care about her. More than you let on but…” Kim started, but Jay interrupted her.

“Yeah, she’s my friend.” Jay raised his voice a little, despite trying to keep himself in check. “Kim, I know it’s not you and it’s out of Sarge’s hands but she’s my friend. I don’t care if I have to do it myself.”

Jay’s voice traveled down the hall to you in your room and you felt a weird sensation of annoyance that you’d never felt before. You knew it wasn’t your place to feel annoyed but you really wished he’d stop treating you so well if he was just going to be your friend for the rest of your life.

Sometimes, it just felt like you and Jay were dancing in and out of the gray area between being normal friends and something more and on some days, like today, it irritated you more than it should.

You swallowed down your feelings as you heard Jay hang up.

Taking a breath, you rearranged your features before you left the room. Even if you didn’t, Jay would come looking so there was no point continuing to hide out in your room anyway.

“Jay?”

You’d figured it out based on his side of the conversation but you waited for him to fill you in, your eyes studying his expression.

You waited, but Jay seemed to be having difficulty getting the words out.

“They can’t have uniformed officers with me, can they?” You said, saving Jay the trouble. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine. I’m not the only person in this city.”

Jay saw through your brave front immediately, his eyes narrowing.

“You don’t have to worry. I have a plan, alright? And if I have to do it myself, I’ll do it. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Jay said, his voice low, his piercing green eyes seeming to look right through your soul.

As he stepped forward, you did something you’d never done before with Jay - you took a step backwards, avoiding his hand.

Jay frowned. “Y/N?”

“Don’t.” You said, the word coming out as a whisper. “Don’t go out of your way. I’ll be fine, like I always have been.”

Jay felt a wave of annoyance as he looked back at you. “Like you’ve always been? Like when the guy you were seeing cheated on you? Or like when you almost ended up living on the streets? That kind of fine?”

That smarted.

You could tell Jay regretted it, the words that didn’t really seem that harsh but that hurt like hell.

You glared at him, before you turned heel and left, storming out the door.

You walked straight out the building, not caring that you’d forgotten your outer jacket, nor that it was dark. And with each step you made, you got more annoyed.

If it hadn’t been for this murder, if you hadn’t been the one who’d somehow bumped into the stranger in the lobby, you were sure things wouldn’t be such a mess. The mix of emotions you were feeling - the fear and nervousness from the looming threat that you didn’t know how to handle, mixed with all the million emotions that Jay Halstead made you feel.

And now that you had stormed out and the cold hit your bones, you had a problem.

You had literally nothing on you, you couldn’t even call Will.

You slowed down just a little, before you felt someone grab you from behind and a yelp escaped your lips.

“It’s me.” Jay’s voice, before you felt a jacket go over your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, wanting to glare at him but your heart was still pounding.

Jay didn’t say anything.

“Why do you care, Jay? If I’m such a mess, why the hell do you care?” You asked, the unsettled emotions rising to the surface once again.

“Because I worry about you!” Jay’s voice rose now, and you could hear the annoyance surrounding the words as they hit you. “Is that so wrong?”

You could feel the tears gather behind your eyes but you couldn’t give it away. “Well, stop it.” You told him. “Stop it because you confuse the hell out of me and I can’t do it like this. I can’t.”

“So what the hell do you want me to do?” Jay asked. “You want me to stop caring? Because I can’t do that, Y/N!”

“Why the hell not?” You retorted.

Jay exhaled loudly, giving you a look like you were stupid. “Do I really have to spell it out for you, Y/N? Because I’m in love with you, alright? You happy now?”

The words hung in the air between the two of you, before you realized you had to say something.

“You, what?” You asked, barely daring to believe it.

Jay breathed heavily, like he’d been running. “It took me all of ten seconds to grab your coat and chase you back down. I keep telling myself not to get too close but I can’t do it, alright? So I know you don’t feel this way but you’re just going to have to deal with it because I’m not going anywhere.”

You blinked back at Jay, the tears pooling in your eyes again.

“Jay, I…” You bottom lip trembled a little. “You…”

“What?” Jay asked, almost like he was challenging you.

You just closed the distance between the two of you, right into his arms, pushing your face right into him.

Jay stiffened. “Y/N..?”

“God, Jay. What the hell do you think I feel?” You asked, your voice coming out as a whisper. “I’ve been so terrified of losing you I forgot how much I kept buried inside me, and then now I have to worry about some maniac who probably wants to kill me. So, today I just… I just…”

Jay pulled you gently away, before he leaned down and pressed his lips over yours without another word, his hand threading through your hair gently.

As Jay broke away, you looked up at him and he swept the tear off your cheek, before he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t let anyone touch you. Not while I’m here.” Jay said, before he wrapped his arms around you again, pressing you into him protectively.

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