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simpxmachina · 1 month ago

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╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker

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cai

💋 cat adams - KILLER DATE

The FBI van crawled to a stop under the pale glow of a flickering streetlamp, its presence an unspoken warning that the night’s events were far from ordinary. Inside, the tension was thick enough to choke on. You adjusted your coat, the weight of the hidden microphone brushing against your collarbone, a constant reminder of the team listening to your every word. You weren’t alone, but that didn’t make this any easier.

Across from you sat Cat Adams, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement, as if the cold steel cuffs encircling her wrists were nothing more than accessories. She lounged with a feline grace, her perfectly styled hair catching the dim light, her red lips curved into a smug smile. This wasn’t a woman cowed by incarceration—this was a predator who had set the terms of her release, who had orchestrated this night with you as the unwilling star in her carefully crafted play.

“You look nervous,” Cat purred, leaning forward slightly. Her voice was low, intimate, like the brush of velvet against your skin. “Is it me? Or is it the pressure of knowing everyone’s watching us? Listening to us? Judging your every move?”

You didn’t flinch. Years of training had taught you how to keep your expression neutral, but Cat was unlike any opponent you’d faced. She thrived on reactions, on peeling back the layers of control to find what lay beneath.

“This isn’t a game,” you said evenly, though your pulse betrayed you, thudding hard against your ribs.

Her smile deepened, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. “Oh, but it is, darling. And the stakes are higher than ever. Hostages’ lives, your reputation... and maybe something even more personal.”

You ignored her, turning your attention to the comms team. “We’re here,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the unease coiling in your gut.

Rossi’s voice crackled in your earpiece, clipped and authoritative. “We’ve secured the perimeter. The rink is clear. Remember, we’ll be monitoring everything. You’re not alone.”

Not alone. The words were meant to comfort, but as you stepped out of the van into the icy night air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking into a trap.

Cat followed, her every movement deliberate, her gaze never leaving you. Even with armed guards flanking her, she exuded an air of control that was unnerving. She paused on the threshold of the rink, the sharp click of her boots against the pavement echoing in the stillness.

“Private ice skating. How romantic,” she murmured, glancing back at you. “Do I detect a hint of effort, Agent? Or is this just another cold, calculated move in your master plan?”

You didn’t answer, stepping onto the ice with practiced caution. You weren’t here to entertain her. You were here to get a confession, to save the lives of the hostages her accomplice was holding. Yet as you wobbled on the slick surface, your lack of skating prowess betrayed you, and Cat’s delighted laughter rang out like a bell.

“Oh, this is precious,” she said, gliding toward you with effortless grace. “The fearless FBI agent, undone by a little ice. Come here before you hurt yourself.”

Her hands found yours, firm and steady, pulling you upright before you could protest. The heat of her touch was startling against the cold, her fingers curling around yours as she guided you across the rink.

“Relax,” she said, her voice a soft whisper near your ear. “You’re so tense. It’s just you and me out here. No guns, no interrogation rooms. Just between girls.”

You resisted the urge to pull away, knowing it would only feed her need for control. Instead, you focused on the task at hand—keeping your balance, keeping her talking, keeping her from realizing just how much her proximity was affecting you.

“Why this?” you asked, your voice calm despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. “Why ice skating?”

Cat smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Because it’s intimate. Vulnerable. It forces us to rely on each other. And, let’s face it, I couldn’t resist the chance to see you off-balance.”

Her words were laced with double meaning, and the way she held your gaze made your breath hitch. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she spoke.

“Tell me, Agent. Are you enjoying this as much as I am?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. You knew better than to answer, but the truth lingered in the space between you. Cat was playing a dangerous game, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t deny the pull of her charisma, the way she seemed to see straight through your defenses.

“Let’s pick up the pace,” she said suddenly, pulling you forward with surprising strength. You stumbled, her laughter ringing out as she steadied you once more. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I’m not here for your amusement,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked the sharpness you intended.

She arched a brow, her smile softening into something almost genuine. “No, you’re here to save the day. The hero in shining armor, swooping in to rescue the poor, helpless hostages. But tell me, Agent... who’s going to save you?”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the two of you, the ice beneath your feet forgotten.

By the time the session ended, your legs were trembling—not from exertion, but from the relentless dance of power and vulnerability that defined every interaction with Cat. As the guards cuffed her once more, she turned to you, her gaze lingering.

“You’re better than I expected,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual teasing edge. “But you’re still holding back. And that, darling, is going to cost you.”

You didn’t respond, escorting her back to the van with the weight of her words pressing down on you.

The night was far from over, and as you climbed into the van beside her, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of yourself you’d have to sacrifice to win this game.

The low hum of the elevator filled the air as you stood beside Cat Adams, the tension between you as palpable as the stale metallic scent of the space. Her handcuffs had been removed—a calculated risk cleared by Hotch—but the weight of her freedom was now balanced precariously on your shoulders. Every moment felt like a potential crack in the dam, the potential for her to seize control of the situation just as she had orchestrated everything leading to this night.

The quiet click of the elevator arriving on your floor pulled you from your thoughts. You led the way down the corridor, each step deliberate. The narrow hallway stretched endlessly, lit by cold, buzzing fluorescents that cast harsh shadows on the beige walls. You could feel her gaze on you, burning into the back of your neck like a brand.

“Quaint,” Cat said as you unlocked the door to your apartment, her tone laced with amusement. “I imagined something more... sterile. But I suppose even someone as controlled as you needs a refuge.”

You ignored her, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let her in. She strolled past you with the easy grace of someone who knew she held the upper hand, even here, in your space. Her eyes roved over the room, taking in the worn leather couch, the scattered books on the coffee table, the faint smell of lavender that clung to the air.

“This is cozy,” she said, trailing a finger along the edge of a bookshelf. “Unexpectedly human, considering the company.”

You closed the door behind you, locking it with a quiet snap. The sound seemed louder than it should have been, echoing in the charged silence.

“Sit,” you said, gesturing toward the couch.

Cat arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into that maddening smirk. “Ordering me around already? My, my, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

But she complied, sinking into the couch with a feline elegance that made the mundane act of sitting seem provocative. Her gaze never left you, her dark eyes alight with mischief as you moved to the small kitchenette, retrieving two glasses of water.

When you returned, she accepted hers with a murmur of thanks, though she made no move to drink. Instead, she leaned back, crossing her legs in a way that demanded attention, her body language a calculated mix of confidence and invitation.

“So, Agent,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “What’s next on this... date of ours? Or have we reached the part where you tell me all about your tragic backstory to gain my trust?”

You sat down across from her, keeping the table between you, though it felt like a flimsy barrier against the force of her presence. “We talk,” you said simply, meeting her gaze with a calm you didn’t entirely feel. “About the hostages. About your accomplice. About how this ends.”

Cat laughed, a soft, melodic sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, darling, you’re adorable. But if you think I’m going to spill my secrets under the fluorescent glare of FBI surveillance, you’re even more naïve than I thought.”

She leaned forward then, resting her elbows on the table, her face inches from yours. Her voice dropped to a whisper, the words brushing against your skin like a ghostly caress. “Take off the wire. Give me a reason to trust you.”

You hesitated, the weight of the microphone hidden beneath your shirt suddenly unbearable. You could hear the faint murmur of the team in your earpiece, their voices distant but insistent.

“Don’t,” Rossi’s voice said, sharp and commanding. “She’s manipulating you.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze locked on Cat’s. She was a master manipulator, a predator who thrived on control, but there was something in her eyes tonight—something raw and unguarded, a flicker of vulnerability she hadn’t yet masked.

Against your better judgment, you reached up and removed the earpiece, the absence of the team’s voices leaving a deafening silence in its wake. The microphone followed, dropped onto the table with a quiet clatter.

“There,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within you. “No wire. Just you and me.”

Cat’s smile widened, but it wasn’t the smug, predatory grin you’d come to expect. It was softer, almost... tender. She reached out, her fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that left a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Brave,” she murmured, her voice laced with admiration. “Or foolish. I haven’t decided yet.”

You leaned back, putting distance between you, though the air still crackled with tension. “Talk,” you said. “If you’re serious about trust, prove it.”

Cat tilted her head, studying you with a curiosity that felt unnervingly intimate. “I will,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “But first, let’s finish the date. You’ve gone to so much trouble, after all.”

She stood, moving to your side of the table with a languid grace. Before you could react, she was sitting beside you, her thigh brushing against yours, her perfume a heady mix of jasmine and danger.

“Do you always sit so far away on dates?” she teased, leaning in close enough that her breath ghosted over your cheek. “Or is it just me?”

You turned to face her, your heart pounding as her hand found yours, her fingers intertwining with a familiarity that felt unnervingly natural. Her touch was warm, her skin impossibly soft, and for a moment, you forgot why you were here.

“This isn’t a real date,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Cat’s lips curved into a sly smile, her gaze dropping to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “Isn’t it? You’ve got the setting, the ambiance... the undeniable chemistry. What more could you ask for?”

Her hand moved to your face, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re trembling,” she said softly, her voice a seductive whisper. “Is it me? Or is it something else?”

You didn’t answer, your throat tight as her lips hovered near yours, the space between you charged with a tension that threatened to snap.

“Tell me, Agent,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “What’s stopping you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the lines between right and wrong blurring into a haze of desire and doubt.

The room had grown quieter since the removal of the microphone, the absence of the subtle electronic buzz leaving the air heavy with possibility. Cat leaned back against the armrest of the couch, her legs crossed gracefully, one arm draped casually along the backrest. You sat across from her, the tension coiling between you like an unspoken challenge, daring either of you to acknowledge it.

But Cat’s eyes were what undid you. Dark and hypnotic, they drank in your every move, lingering on the faint tremor in your hand as you reached for the glass of water you had brought her earlier. She wasn’t just watching you—she was dissecting you, studying every detail, every flaw, every hesitation, as though you were a puzzle she was desperate to solve.

"You're quiet," she said finally, her voice soft but weighted with implication.

You glanced up, meeting her gaze with a steadiness you didn’t entirely feel. "I’m waiting for you to talk."

Cat’s lips curved into a knowing smile. She didn’t speak right away, her attention drifting instead to the line of your throat, the way your pulse fluttered just beneath your skin. She tilted her head, a predator studying its prey, though the intensity in her gaze was laced with something softer, something that unnerved you more than her usual smirk.

“I’ve talked plenty,” she said eventually, her tone almost playful. “Maybe I’m more interested in listening now. You fascinate me, Agent. Have I told you that?”

Your jaw tightened, the compliment catching you off guard. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” Cat leaned forward slightly, her fingers tracing an idle pattern on the arm of the couch. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about you. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, even the way you tilt your head when you’re trying to hide that you’re nervous. It’s... intoxicating.”

Her words were deliberate, slow, meant to unsettle. And they did, though you refused to let it show. “If you’re trying to distract me—”

“Oh, darling, I’m not trying. I don’t need to try with you.”

Her confidence was maddening, but what was worse was the way her words lingered, burrowing into the spaces you had tried to fortify against her. You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of how close she was, how the faint scent of her perfume seemed to cling to the air between you.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Right now, in this moment. Are you wondering if I’m lying? Or are you wondering what it would feel like if I touched you?”

Your breath caught, a faint hitch that you cursed yourself for. Cat’s smile widened, the satisfaction in her expression infuriatingly obvious.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, though the words came out weaker than you intended.

Cat laughed softly, a sound that was equal parts amusement and something darker. She shifted closer, her knee brushing yours, the contact fleeting but electric. “Flattery implies I’m trying to win you over. But we both know I’ve already won, don’t we?”

You forced yourself to meet her gaze, refusing to let her see how much she was affecting you. “This is still a mission, Cat. You don’t win anything unless I get what I came for.”

Her expression softened slightly, the predatory edge giving way to something almost vulnerable. She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours with a tentative curiosity that felt foreign coming from her.

“And what did you come for, Agent?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more introspective. “Answers? Justice? Or maybe something you won’t even admit to yourself?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, not when she was looking at you like that, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.

Cat shifted again, this time turning fully toward you, her proximity stealing the breath from your lungs. She reached up, her fingers ghosting along your jaw, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine.

“What do you think of our date?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Be honest, Agent. No wire, no team, just you and me. Did you enjoy yourself?”

You hesitated, the truth clawing at the walls you had built around yourself. The ice rink, the way she had held your hand, the moments of laughter that had felt almost genuine—they all flooded back in a dizzying rush.

“It’s irrelevant,” you said finally, though the words felt hollow even to you.

Cat smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in it, as though she could see right through you. “You’re lying,” she said softly. “And I think you know it.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek as she whispered, “Deep down, in your heart, do you like me? Do you love me? Have you crossed that gray line yet, or are you still pretending you’re above it all?”

Her questions hit like a freight train, each one forcing you to confront the things you had been trying so hard to bury. And yet, there was something disarming about the way she asked, as though she wasn’t entirely sure of the answers herself.

“I don’t love you,” you said, though the words felt like a lifeline you weren’t entirely sure you believed.

Cat’s gaze searched yours, her expression unreadable. “But you could,” she said, her voice almost wistful. “And that terrifies you, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, her fingers trailing down your arm in a touch that was both intimate and calculated. She was testing you, pushing boundaries, waiting to see how far you would let her go.

“Let me make it easier for you,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I’m obsessed with you. Every word you say, every move you make—it’s a high I can’t seem to kick. So tell me, Agent... does that frighten you? Or does it excite you?”

Her words left you reeling, the room spinning as the line between right and wrong blurred beyond recognition. You could feel the weight of her gaze, the heat of her body so close to yours, and for a moment, the mission, the hostages, the danger—it all felt like a distant echo.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you said finally, your voice barely audible.

Cat leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “I think you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Her words lingered long after they were spoken, a haunting melody you couldn’t escape. And as the silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truths, you realized that she wasn’t the only one crossing lines tonight.

The air between you seemed to vibrate with unspoken tension, as though the walls of the room were holding their breath. Cat shifted closer, her movements deliberate, her knee brushing against yours as she studied you with unnerving precision. Every inch she moved felt calculated, every glance from her dark, piercing eyes a silent question you couldn’t answer.

“Do you know what fascinates me most about you?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with something electric. She tilted her head, her fingers tracing a delicate path along the seam of her pants, a casual gesture that somehow felt intimate.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Enlighten me.”

Cat smirked, her gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “It’s the way you try so hard to hide yourself. Like right now. You’re stiff, guarded, projecting this... untouchable exterior. But I see the cracks, darling.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I see the woman behind the badge.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated the way your body reacted, the way her proximity made your skin buzz with awareness. “You think you know me?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Cat laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “I don’t think, sweetheart—I know.”

Before you could respond, she moved, swift and fluid, closing the space between you entirely. Suddenly, she was on your lap, her legs draped over yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you froze, unsure whether to push her away or let her stay.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice catching in your throat.

“Relax,” she murmured, her hands settling on your shoulders. “I just want to be close to you. Is that so terrible?”

It was terrible, and not for the reasons she thought. The feel of her warmth pressed against you, the faint scent of her perfume—it was intoxicating, and you hated how much you liked it.

“This isn’t part of the deal,” you said, though your hands stayed firmly at your sides, unwilling—or unable—to move her.

“No,” Cat agreed, her voice like silk. “But it’s exactly where we were always going to end up.”

Her fingers moved, tracing slow, languid patterns along your collarbone, her touch featherlight but impossible to ignore. “You’re so controlled, so rigid,” she mused, her gaze locked on yours. “I wonder... what would it take to make you let go?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words died in your throat as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Tell me,” she whispered, her breath warm and teasing. “What do you want right now? What do you feel, sitting here with me?”

“I feel like this is a mistake,” you said, but your voice wavered, betraying you.

Cat pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her expression unreadable. “And yet, you’re not pushing me away,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Why is that, Agent?”

You didn’t have an answer, and she didn’t wait for one. Her fingers moved again, this time trailing up to your jaw, tilting your face toward hers.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her tone soft but laced with challenge.

Your breath hitched, the question hanging in the air between you like a live wire. Every instinct told you to end this, to reassert control, to remind her—and yourself—that this was a mission, not... whatever this was becoming. But you didn’t move.

Cat’s smile softened, her expression almost tender. “I want to kiss you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Not to manipulate you, not to win you over. Just to see what it would be like. To see you let go, even for a moment.”

Her honesty startled you, and for the first time, you saw something raw in her eyes, something that felt real in a way you hadn’t expected.

“This isn’t about me,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“But it is,” she replied, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re the only thing that’s felt real to me in years. The only person who’s ever looked at me like I’m more than the sum of my sins. Don’t you see? You’ve already won, darling. You’ve had me in the palm of your hand since the moment you put those cuffs on me.”

Her words were a confession, but not the one you had been sent to extract. And as her gaze searched yours, her face so close that you could feel the warmth of her breath, you realized that this moment, this choice, would change everything.

“Cat,” you began, your voice shaking, but she silenced you with a look, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“Don’t think,” she whispered, leaning in just enough that your lips were a breath apart. “Just feel.”

Her words were a dare, a challenge, and for one fleeting moment, you considered letting her win.

You could feel the electric pulse between you, every second stretching longer than the last, as if the world itself held its breath. Cat's lips were so close now, her warm breath mingling with yours, making every fiber of your being tingle with anticipation. Her eyes were locked on yours, searching, pleading, daring you to make the next move. The tension was unbearable-like a string pulled so taut it could snap at any moment.

But you didn't move.

Neither did she.

Instead, Cat tilted her head slightly, the playful glint in her eyes shifting into something deeper, more serious. "You know," she murmured, her voice soft, almost intimate, "I've never been afraid of getting what I want. But with you..." She trailed off, her words left hanging, heavy with implication. "There's something different about you. You... you make me feel something I've never felt before. Something I didn't even think i could feel."

Her confession was like a gentle blow to your chest, knocking the breath out of you. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. You weren't just playing a game anymore. The line between agent and criminal, between predator and prey, had blurred beyond recognition. And what terrified you more than anything was how badly you wanted her to be honest, wanted her to open up, to give you something real-something raw.

But you couldn't let yourself forget. You were here on a mission. A mission to stop her, to bring her down. That was the reason you were sitting here now, heart racing and breath shallow. Not because of the way her hands were so casually draped on you, not because of the way her lips hovered so close to yours, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. "This isn't what you think it is, Cat. You're playing a dangerous game."

Cat's lips curled into a slow, almost affectionate smile, as though your words amused her. She leaned even closer, until her lips brushed the corner of your mouth-just enough to make your pulse spike.

"No," she said softly, almost a whisper, "this is exactly what I think it is."

Her fingers traced down your arm, her touch languid and sensuous, and your heart pounded in your chest. Every touch, every movement from her was deliberate. She was testing you, pushing the boundaries, trying to see how far you'd let her go, how far you were willing to let her pull you into her web.

"You're not the first to try to catch me," Cat continued, her eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place. "But none of them ever had what you have. I don't know if you even realize it, but you're different. You make me want to-"

Her words trailed off as she moved again, shifting her body to straddle you more fully, her hands coming up to cup your face, holding you still. The boldness of it took you by surprise, but it was the way she looked at you, the intensity of her gaze, that made your breath catch in your throat.

Cat's eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. For a moment, the world outside of this room seemed irrelevant-nothing mattered but the heat between you, the way your heart raced and your thoughts stumbled over themselves.

"I told you," she whispered, her breath warm on your lips. "I want you, but not just like this. I want to see you... open up, let go. Just for a moment, stop being the agent, stop being the wall you've built around yourself, and let me in."

You couldn't help the way your body reacted. You could feel the heat rise in your chest, your breath hitching, betraying you even as you told yourself to stay focused, to remain distant, to not give in.

But her words, her proximity, the feel of her hands on your skin, all of it worked like a slow, undeniable pull on your soul. You knew what she wanted-what she was asking for. And for the first time, you realized that what terrified you most wasn't the manipulation or the criminal that Cat was. It was the woman she was now, the one who made you feel things you couldn't explain, the one who made you want to forget everything.

"I'm not a toy, Cat," you said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to.

But Cat didn't seem to hear you. She kissed you-lightly at first, just a brush of her lips against yours, and then deeper, more insistent, her tongue coaxing yours to respond. The kiss was intoxicating, every touch of her lips setting your skin on fire. And for a moment, all you could do was surrender to it.

She pulled back slowly, her eyes half-lidded, and a soft chuckle rumbled in her throat. "You're still trying to resist me, aren't you?" she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "But I can feel it... you want this. You want me."

You didn't answer. There was nothing to say. She was right. The truth was there, laid bare between you. There was a part of you that wanted this, wanted her, more than you cared to admit.

But the mission. The people you had to save. The line you could never cross.

Cat wasn't about to make it easy for you, though. She slid one hand into your hair, pulling you closer again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm not done with you, Agent. Not by a long shot. So, tell me... what do you want? What will you do next?"

Her words wrapped around you like a chain, and for the first time, you didn't know if you wanted to break free.

#cat adams #criminal minds #aubrey plaza #aubrey plaza x reader #rio vidal

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