#female defense chief

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Canada’s first female Chief of Defense Staff, General Jennie Carignan, delivers a bold response to U.S. Senator Jim Risch's controversial remarks about women in combat. In a historic moment at the Halifax International Security Forum, she defends the critical role of women in modern military operations and challenges outdated stereotypes. Discover how her statements are reshaping the global debate on gender equality in defense.

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[sunshine-and-kookies]

UNHINGED (m)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Summary-> The corporate recession has your company grovelling for funds.

As the relegated chief operating officer, you have to bear the brunt of seeking out an enterprising and successful shareholder who can revive your company for posterity.

As a sorry state of affairs, you're compelled to enlist the CEO of Jeon Enterprise for his help. However, The question remains.

Just how much convincing are you willing to do?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Part: 1 of 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairing: Yandere Jeongguk x Female Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Yandere

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Warnings for both parts: Power Imbalance, Blackmailing, Manipulation, inebriation, smut, fingering, groping, penetration, some nasty stuff, light choking, a few corporate jargons, jk is a dick who is smitten with oc, jk is selfish asf, threats of violence (not against OC).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Word count: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Disclaimer: This is a two-shot which delves into themes that may be triggering or dark in nature. It is important to note that the behaviors portrayed by Jungkook are purely fictional and do not reflect his real-life character. Reader discretion is advised. Minors are discouraged from engaging with this content. Remember, plagiarism is a serious offense.

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

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"This is unbelievable", you lament, hunched over your desk.

"How did the stocks plummet so much?"

"Miss. L/N, The stock market is a gamble." Mr. Kwon offers.

"I am aware of that Mr. Kwon. But the risks we took were calculated." You massage your temples, grumbling defensively under your breath.

The predicament at hand induced mixed emotions in you. On one hand, you were anxious. Anxious for the employees who have a family to fend for, the news headlines they'll be witnessing and the confrontation you'll need to have with the stakeholders.

On the other, less dominant hand, you felt uncannily relieved.

Ever since your company, Jubilee and Co, invested in the share market with you at the helm, you've been waiting for something to go awry.

Simply, because you couldn't fathom anything remotely auspicious happening under your leadership. Not because you didn't have faith in your capabilities. No.

It was because you've gotten the short end of the stick from life so often that you've grown accustomed to it.

And now that your trepidations have borne fruit, you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

Gingerly clutching the cup of coffee perched on your table, you take a sip. This was not the time to wallow in self pity.

"Mr. Kwon, prepare an excel sheet that has all the consolidated data of the company's capital. We can't afford any delays. I have to begin looking for plausible shareholders."

You could feel the soreness kicking in, as you knead the knots in your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long day.

..............................................................................................................................

You peer at your phone's self camera for the umpteenth time.

Huffing, as you rake your fingers through your hair. Everything about your outfit seemed off but scrounging for a better one would take an eternity. You were living on borrowed time as it is.

"Miss. Y/N L/N, Mr. Jeon is ready for you."

You stand upright, hands clenching the portfolio in your hand futilely, your heels scuffing across the floor of the hallway.

Navigating through the huge corridor, you spot the door of the room where the incumbent CEO sits.

Knocking lightly, you speak "Mr Jeon?"

"Come in."

His husky voice beckons.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you step into the room.

And as soon as you do, you're rendered awestruck by the cabin.

It has expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling city below.

The golden hour sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

The walls, adorned with exquisite golden motifs, which no doubt must have cost a fortune.

Fitting for a billionaire like him, you suppose.

Right in the center of the room is a rich mahogany desk, cluttered with documents.

Perched behind the desk is Jeon Jeongguk, the formidable CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It is renowned globally as the only firm which deals with technological ergonomics. Their unparalleled success transcended borders, setting the standard worldwide.

Needless to say, Jubilee and Co was a far cry from Jeon Enterprises.

You've read enough tabloids about the cold, formidable CEO to know what might transpire.

On behalf of your company's stakeholder, you'll ask him for help. He'll eye you incredulously, disdain marring his face before he politely calls the security guard to escort this deranged woman out.

You're taking a leap of faith coming here and hoping a tech tycoon like him even spares you a glance.

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath, prompting you to look at him.

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened, as he stared at you from across the room.

His gaze trailed your dainty form from top to bottom, eyes darkening the more they consume you.

You shudder.

You should have taken time to look for a more flattering outfit. Or maybe your hair was dishevelled?

Clearing your throat, you politely ask him, "May I take a seat, Mr Jeon?"

Caught off guard, Mr. Jeon suddenly stands up before motioning for you to sit.

"Please do, Miss...?"

"Y/N L/N." , you supply.

"Y/N..." His dulcet voice repeats your name, as though in a trance.

There was an eerie tension in the room but you would be damned if you let it get to you and lose this golden opportunity.

"As the chief operating officer, I'm here to represent Jubilee and Co."

This was it.

This was the part where you'll be catapulted out of the building by big and buff security men--

"How may I be of assistance to Jubilee and Co. today?"

You blanch.

Out of all outcomes you were expecting would ensue your introduction, this was the most unexpected one.

You were not prepared for this, how do you broach the proposal of an alliance now?

Quickly gathering yourself, you resume.

"We are honoured you have decided to give us the time of the day, Mr Jeon."

"Don't mention." His tone, though professional, betrayed a hint of eagerness.

"From what I presume, you're here to ask for an affiliation." He continues.

"Your stakeholders want Jubilee and Co to become a subsidiary under Jeon Enterprises."

You were tongue tied.

Mr. Jeon was an astute man. You'll give him that.

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

"And why, exactly, should I invest in a company that is, for a lack of better word, in shambles? Inundated with abysmal employees", He rejoinders.

You wince. No matter how true his word were, they were acerbic.

Jubilee was like a baby to you.

You've gone through hell to make it transition from a tier 3 brand name to a decently esteemed firm. You've spent countless sleepless nights looking after it, skipped meals to tend to it's wounds.

Chagrined, you speak before your brain can process your words.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon. But Jubilee is more than just its current state. It's a testament to resilience, to the countless hours of dedication and hard work put in by its employees, including myself."

Your gaze meets his, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

"Yes, we may have faced setbacks, but we've also overcome them. I believe that adversity often presents the greatest opportunities for growth. I understand your reservations, Mr. Jeon, but I urge you to consider the untapped potential within Jubilee. With the right investments and guidance, I firmly believe that it has the potential to rise from its current situation and flourish once again."

A hush falls over the room.

Jeongguk's gaze remained unwavering, fixed on your face throughout your entire tirade.

"Consider me convinced, Miss. Y/N."

"S-Sir?"

"I guarantee. Jubilee's stock will be restored, funds will be augmented, and brand reputation will be unrivalled. The employees that will henceforth be inducted will be recruited by my personal hiring team."

You can barely hear the rest of his sentence, already thrumming with excitement. Your mind plotting all the ways you can get back at the naysayers.

The resurgence of Jubilee is inevitable, now that you have Jeongguk on board.

"But, you must understand Y/N, there are no free lunches in this world."

And just like that all your dreams come crashing down.

"Pardon, sir?"

Mr. Jeon gracefully rises from his chair, closing the proximity between the both of you as he leans on the front of the desk, positioned directly in front of you.

"I'll accede to all your demands, but I want a fair trade."

Mr. Jeon's words hang in the air. You had hoped for a smooth negotiation, where was this coming from?

"What kind of fair trade are you suggesting, Mr. Jeon?"

A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze.

"I'll provide my expertise, my resources, to ensure Jubilee's revival," he begins.

"But in return, I ask for something beyond the confines of business."

There is a tacit silence enveloping the room.

The implication of his suggestion is glaringly blatant.

Situations like these were rife in the corporate world. Pleasure in exchange for business gains was not unheard of.

What was however, unheard of, was an employee of Jubilee engaging in such lewd dalliances.

While they were definitely slacking and inept when it comes to work and strategies, Jubilee has maintained a pristine image of possessing the most morally sound employees.

You are caught in a mire.

On one hand, you are disgruntled that he thought you were so shallow that you'll take him up on an offer as promiscuous as that.

But on the other hand, you are convinced this is your only shot at reviving Jubilee. Jungkook's assets and team marshalled together will undoubtedly take Jubilee to unprecedented heights.

"We have a deal, Mr. Jeon."

..............................................................................................................................

"Jeongguk, stop please! Not now, I have to get ready for a meeting."

"I don't renege on my promises, baby girl." He hums, biting your lower lip as his hands fondle your clothed chest.

"And I expect the same from you, yeah?"

The past few months have been very conducive for Jubilee.

As expected, with Jeongguk's acumen & assistance, the company is practically thriving, now in a league comparable to the unicorns.

And it had to be. You've traded yourself for its prosperity after all.

"Fuck", the expletive rolls off your tongue as a strangled moan.

His palms knead the flesh as he grinds his hips on your clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty, my baby. Got me wrapped around your little finger like a hormonal fucking teenager."

He grunts in your ear as one of his hands find purchase on your hip, the other smoothly lifting your pencil skirt to stroke your thigh.

"Kook, I c-can't"

He is terse as he pants, "Yes, you can. You will do everything I ask you to, am I clear?"

"Y-Yeah"

"Good girl" He dotes.

Unbuttoning your top and latching his tongue onto your now bare nipple.

"Stop teasing Kook, touch me already. I'm so fuckin' wet"

He grins as he resumes his ministrations on your inner thigh, cheekily peering up at you from where he is stationed, between your breasts.

"Someone's needy."

You huff exasperated, placing a hand on his as you halt him.

"Fine, I'll just ask Taehyung for help. He won't deny me anyways."

All air escapes you as you're suddenly jerked, your bare back meeting the wall with a thud.

You open your eyes at the sudden movement.

Jeongguk's laborious breath is laden with ire.

Eyes closed. Jaw clenched.

His previous playful beam, nowhere to be found.

He takes in a deep breath before opening his eyes.

They're the darkest you've ever seen them. Pupils enlarged to an extent that his eyes appear pitch black.

You fucked up.

His hand comes up as he lightly chokes you, not enough to hurt you but enough to cause a pool of wetness dripping down your thighs in its wake.

"Say shit like that one more time and see me burn that fucker alive."

"You have the fucking audacity to even think of another man, when yours is right in front of you? Don't you fucking forget who you belong to Y/N. You're fucking mine. Body, Heart and Soul. You've sworn your loyalty to me. You've surrendered yourself to me completely the day I agreed to buy that shitty company of yours."

Your panties are completely drenched at this point and you're unsure if its because you're turned on or petrified of how vexed he has become by the mere thought of you with another man, even though you had said it in jest.

Without any preamble, his fingers prod at your entrance as he sinks them in. Your walls embracing him like second skin.

"Even your tight little pussy isn't yours anymore. It belongs to Jeon Jungkook.”

He slaps your pussy immediately after, as though proving his point.

“And I don't fucking share, so you better pray to any deity you worship that I don't fucking catch you masturbating or so help me god."

He fingers you passionately. Not stopping even after you plead him to.

"T-Too sensitive, K-Kook."

Unbuckling his belt, He pulls out his penis. It stands tall, proud and red with pre cum oozing out of the tip.

You grab him for stability as he pushes the tip in, letting your walls adjust and clamp before he brutally picks up his pace.

"Tell me who you belong to." He bellows.

Too out of it, you fail to form a coherent response.

THWACK.

He slaps your ass hard.

Once. Twice. Too many times to count.

"I-I'm yours Koo, only yours." you manage to say, eager to cajole him.

"Damn right you are." He hums, seemingly placated with your answer. Picking up his pace, he spits in your mouth, meshing his tongue with yours, while his fingers play with your clit.

You feel the familiar warmth below your cervix, as you groan,

"C-Cumming"

He gently pats your hair, kissing your earlobe.

"Let go, baby."

As you ride off your high, too blissful to pay attention to your surroundings, you don't notice the way Jeongguk's gaze darkens.

............................................................................................................................

Part: 1 of 2

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

[marydoyouwrite]

Back to Me

PAIRING: idol!Jaehyun x militarygeneral!Reader

GENRE: smut, angst

SUMMARY: The youngest and first female military chief is embroiled in a dating scandal. While she isn't willing to put his rumored beau at risk, the man is a willing participant, only if she would allow him.

WARNINGS: overstimulation, Jaehyun has a bulge kink, pussy eating, it gets messy at the end there's mentions of blood and violence, my military terms for sure aren't accurate so please read with a grain of salt! <3

enjoy!

8.5k word count

++++

Breaking News: South Korea's Youngest and First Female Military Intelligence Chief Finally Has a Beau?

Seoul, South Korea — In a surprising turn of events, South Korea's youngest and first female Military Intelligence Chief, General YN Park, who has captivated the nation with her unprecedented rise in the military, is reportedly no longer flying solo.

General YN, just 36 years old, broke multiple glass ceilings when she assumed the top position in South Korea's National Intelligence Service (NIS) last year. Known for her unparalleled strategic mind, her dedication to national security, and her stoic public persona, the news of her newfound relationship has caught everyone off guard.

Despite the intense scrutiny and pressure associated with her high-profile role, the General has managed to keep her private life out of the public eye until now. Rumors about a mystery beau have been swirling for weeks due to surfaced photos with a man whom other sources say to closely resemble NCT 127’s member, Jung Jaehyun.

Although no one has confirmed the identity of the man in the photos, some have pointed out that he appears to be familiar with the General’s close-knit circle.

"We’ve never seen General Park in this kind of casual setting before," said Han Min-seok, a military analyst and former intelligence officer. "It’s a rare glimpse into her personal life, and it’s sparked a lot of curiosity. Given her high profile and position, the idea of her having someone close to her is, frankly, surprising, and people are eager to know more."

Despite the media frenzy, neither the General’s office nor the Ministry of National Defense have issued any statements about the photos. Sources close to the General have been tight-lipped, and her team has refused to answer questions about her personal life. However, some insiders suggest that Park has always maintained a strict separation between her career and her personal matters.

For now, speculation remains rampant. Public reactions have been mixed, with some expressing support for the General’s right to a private life, while others are questioning the potential impact of her relationship—whatever its nature—on her leadership role. General Park’s legacy as a trailblazer for women in the military, particularly in her groundbreaking position, may be complicated if her personal life begins to overshadow her professional achievements.

One thing is certain: South Koreans are watching closely, and the mystery of General Park’s private life seems poised to captivate the nation in the days to come.

As the story develops, stay tuned for more updates on this intriguing, and increasingly personal, story.

—-----

After reading the news article, you gave the tablet back to your chief of staff. "I don't know what you want me to do about this, Yujin, but I have an audience with the President tonight."

Yujin looks at you incredulously. "Exactly my point. You don’t think he’s going to grill you on this?"

You sift through the mountain of files on your desk and let your eyes linger on the names of the people that kidnapped eight south-koreans, including the of the National Assembly’s current speaker, all in exchange for ransom and request for extradition of their Russian mafia leader. The case has been a real headache and you want nothing but to make sure you get everyone out of this chaos unscathed. 

"No, because we have a high profile kidnapping case to solve."

“You say that but the president has never missed an opportunity to inquire about your romantic stints! So can you please let me do my job and tell me if any of these are true?”

It was your turn to look at Yujin incredulously. "There's nothing. It was just dinner as friends."

"Are you sure? Because we're releasing a denial on this and you can't make me  retract this next month even if I have to resign!"

And just when you're about to answer Yujin, your cell phone goes off and her eyes go big at the name it displays. She snatches your phone before you can and answers it and puts it on speaker mode. "Speak." Yujin mouths.

You roll your eyes. "Jaehyun, Yujin is listening in."

"What the fuck, YN."

"Yujin, language." Jaehyun laughs from the other line while Yujin is seething.

You allow yourself to sit down. You also massage your temples because of how Yujin is acting at the whole thing. She’s always been efficient at being Chief of Staff ever since you took the position as Chief of Military Intelligence three years ago and while you love her persistence and attention to detail, you don’t like it when you’re the subject of it. 

"So I'm guessing you've read the articles."

"Jaehyun, are you two dating?!"

"Jae, don't mind Yujin, I already told her we aren’t and she's going to put that out."

"Wait! I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"I was just thinking... I wouldn't mind if you said we were dating."

"What the fuck?"

"YN language."

You scoffed and blurted, "Jaehyun, we aren't dating."

You stand up from your seat and approach the window in your office overlooking the city. Your mind is racing at Jaehyun’s words mulling over what to do about it. You want to swat his soul out of his body for the irresponsibility of just saying whatever he wants. But then it’s Jaehyun, he really does say whatever he wants. 

—Beginning—

You recall how you two met. 6 years ago in New York, coming from a scalding session with your then superior, you went straight to a bar of the hotel where you were staying. You were there as part of an activity under South Korea and US’ visiting forces agreement and you had a blunder earlier that day for being provoked by a US Military Officer. You clearly let his provocation get to you so you got a good scolding from your superior. “You are above and better than that,” was what he repeatedly said. And although you’re already used to the heat of military work, you still need to blow off steam for your mental health. 

“One old fashioned.” 

You put your head down as you wait for the bartender to finish preparing your drink. You feel the shift on the seat next to you but you don’t put your head up. You’re too focused on blowing off steam. 

“Can I get a Whiskey?” At the same time the person next to you orders, your drink is ready. You lift your head to take a sip of your drink and you just stare off into space. No thoughts, just head empty.

“Ma’am?” You turn at the sound of your native language and see two pairs of innocent looking eyes stare at you expectantly. You knit your eyebrows and surveyed his whole face and decided he looked vaguely familiar to you. You can’t decide whether his face is familiar because he looks like a model for magazines or because you’ve already seen him somewhere. 

“I’m sorry, I’m Jaehyun and I’ve already done my military service in Korea. I sometimes see you at events and during our training. You’re 1st Lt. YN, ma’am.” That’s why he looks familiar. You probably crossed paths more than once. 

“It’s Captain now, but yeah, YN. Sorry, Jaehyun, is it?”

“Yes, Captain. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I didn’t expect to cross paths with you here. Are you vacationing?” 

You’re wary about sharing too much information but for some reason, the way he talks, his body language, and the slight redness in his ears, puts you at ease. So you engage, a little bit.

“I’m here for work. You?”

“I’m also here for work. Would you mind if I joined you a bit longer?”

You stared at Jaehyun and noted that your instincts and senses aren’t on heightened alert like how it usually does in the presence of a stranger. You don’t sense a hint of malice in his presence and somehow he radiates a certain kind of warmth. How he does it, you don’t know but you decide to just humor yourself.

That night, when you decided it was time to rest, you realized you had a great time. Jaehyun was a conversationalist with a tinge of naughtiness just bubbling beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. You suppose he can’t show his full self yet. Not in front of his once superior, you get that. But even with his restraint, he managed to get more than a laugh or two out of you. Once or twice, his fingers brushed with yours. And more than thrice, you saw his line of sight align with your lips. Nothing escaped you.

If anything impressed you out of the whole exchange, it was him asking for your number. He rubbed the back of his neck while asking if he could get in touch with you sometimes when you’re back in South Korea. “Although of course, I don’t expect you to. You’re the busiest!” He added.

You wanted to give him credit. You’ve talked with many men that had their intentions laid down in the open and while you’re flattered by their respect and interest, no one ever dared to ask for your number when it was time to say goodbye. But Jaehyun did. So you don’t make it hard for him and gave him your number.

You bid your farewells but you remained in touch. You eventually discovered what he does for work and was even more impressed at his talent and charisma. Needless to say, both of you remained friends with all the benefits of it, including great sex.

And god, only thinking about sex with Jaehyun is enough to make your toes curl. He was a great person and an even better fuck. No one can make you cry and beg on your knees apart from him. So you never met anyone anymore. Only he can satisfy the itch you get every once in a while. Only he can make you submit wholeheartedly.

But despite all the passionate nights, never did it progress to something more. Especially not when you were appointed Chief of Military Intelligence three years after you met. There was a quiet acknowledgment that both your professions came first above all else. 

And for your part, you could never put his life at risk. You know you were pushing it when you selfishly chose to keep him in your life. To call him when you need a little reprieve from everything. Just the possibility of your enemies targeting Jaehyun for his connection with you is enough to send your stomach spinning. And your enemies are not few. With the bold decisions that had to be made for the safety of the nation, angry people are at your left and right. You vowed to never put the people you care for in a position of danger. Especially not Jaehyun.

You snapped back into reality and addressed Yujin. “Anyway, deny it. We’re not dating. I’m no longer discussing this.”

—One—

“Jaehyun and I are dating,” the way the words rolled off your tongue was more of a question rather than a statement. You chastised yourself because did you really have to end up using this card just to get what you want? In your defense, you’re backed against the wall with no other remedy but to appeal to emotion. 

“Come again? Are you two really?” The President is eyeing you very intensely trying to figure out if you were just bluffing. You did a quick look at Yujin and saw her mouth hanging open. “YN, if you’re making this up, you know I’ll see through your bluff,” he adds.

You stand up from where you’re seated, take the Whiskey you’ve been offered a while ago, and maintain eye contact with the President. If there’s anyone who’s best at bluffing, it better be you.

“Mr. President, I tell you I want to do this mission myself but you tell me you worry I won’t be back alive. I tell you I will and that not a single South Korean will die on that night, you tell me you needed assurance. And since my love for this country doesn’t seem enough to convince you that I have the willpower of a bull to pull this off, I’m telling you that I will be back because someone I love is waiting for me. And I can’t bear to disappoint that man.”

The President stares at you, studies you, and you know your sincerity came across. Of course you and Jaehyun aren’t dating. But there wasn’t a single lie on the things you said just now. It’s not normal for the Chief to be the person on the ground doing the mission. But this time, you weighed the risks and you can’t bear having someone else do it. The potential of dying leans more towards dying versus not dying. And while you trust your subordinates, this is something you have to take.

So you weren’t lying. It’s true that you can’t bear the thought of sadness and grief taking over Jaehyun’s handsome face. Not when you’ve never even talked about feelings. You’re going to make it back alive from that mission no matter what it takes.

“Okay,” the President sighs in defeat. “But I need a run down of the plan. I need my general back and make it so until your last limb.”

You gave the President a curt nod, “On my last fucking limb,” You gave a salute to the President and walked out of the conference room. Behind you is a quiet Yujin. 

“You’re mad,”

“Of course not. Why would I be mad? We just released an article denying everything about YOU and JAEHYUN dating only for you to confirm it before the President. That’s not something to be mad about.”

You stop in your tracks and turn to face your seething Chief of Staff, “This mission is the most important to me right now.” Yujin seems to soften at the sound of your gentle tone. “And so is going back alive because Jaehyun and I aren’t dating, yet. And I want us to.”

Yujin’s eyes go big at your revelation and she understandfully nods. “Now, let’s plan this mission good,” As you walk towards your office, you send a text message to the person who has no idea what he was pulled into.

Are you free tonight? 

—Two—

1 message 

Ma’am General: Are you free tonight?

Jaehyun smiles at your message knowing that the only reason you’re sending this is because you want to meet up. And he very much wants to, too. Before he gets to respond, he’s interrupted by Johnny, “You guys down for some drinks after practice?”

“Uh, I’ll pass.” And Johnny chuckles at his quick response, knowing full well why he’s not coming. He sees Doyoung whip his head in his direction. “Jaehyun, are you meeting YN again?! I swear to god, you just had articles about you today!”

He winces at Doyoung’s scolding. It’s mild to say that the management was pissed. They were blindsided, how could they not be pissed. They learned about his “closeness” with you through the news and if that wasn’t enough, an official statement was released confirming that the two of you are in fact not dating. Talk about a whiplash. So he’s not surprised why Doyoung is feeling so sensitive.

“Ya, hyung, give Jaehyun hyung a break,” Haechan butts in. “We’re kinda too grown for this now. I think Jaehyun hyung’s age is the right age to get into dating scandals.” The youngest one winks at his direction and Jaehyun laughs at his cheekiness. 

“Thanks Haechan, but I don’t mind. I did kinda blindside everyone. But Doyoung hyung, that should be General YN for all of us.”

Doyoung just sighs and continues with practicing choreo for the group’s upcoming tour. He’ll console the older member later when he’s less angry. He knows Doyoung is coming from good intentions but Jaehyun won’t dare comfort him while he’s in his feels.

“You know he’s just worried right?” Taeyong comes from behind him while fixing his shoes.

“Of course, dating scandals are never good for idols and their groups,” he replied knowingly.

“No, that’s not why,” Jaehyun turns to Taeyong, a bit confused. “The General? Never doubted you could pull a woman like that but shit, that’s some dangerous waters. You’re aware how many enemies she has, right? Especially with some controversial decisions she made, I bet there’s a long list of people targeting her.”

Jaehyun knew. Of course he did. But someone verbalizing it like this just sends a shiver down his spine. His stomach churns at the thought of powerful people  putting a big red target on your head. And what’s worse is he’s not in the most ideal position to ensure you’re always safe.

“So Doyoung is just worried because people close to the General also become targets by default and not because he thinks this is affecting the group. Besides, Haechan’s right, it's about time we got involved in dating scandals,” you snicker at the last bit.

Taeyong taps your shoulder and you’re left to your thoughts. But as how he has approached it ever since, he doesn’t dwell on it too much because nothing good is going to come out of that trail of thought.

Technically speaking, you and him aren’t dating. But Jaehyun knows its just a matter of communication. He’s confident where he stands in your life if your moans and late night calls are any indicator of it. But apart from those things, your subtle way of caring always touched his heart. And if that’s all you can give him, he’ll take it. 

When am I never? Should I pick you up?

Jaehyun sends you a reply and walks to where his stuff is to start fixing. He finishes packing and bids the team farewell, “See you tomorrow!”

He’s going to take a good shower before meeting you. By how this day went, he’s guessing you’re going to want to melt into a hug immediately and just the thought of it puts a smile on his face. No one knows that side of you. Not even Yujin who has been with you for the longest time since your early years in the military. Only he gets to witness the soft, whiny, and sweet side of the nation’s steelhearted General. 

Ma’am General calling…

“Ma’am? Something wrong?” Ma’am has become a pet name between the two of you. He loves how the endearment annoys you just a little bit. So when you respond without any snark, Jaehyun’s a bit worried.

“Nothing wrong. Just… I kinda can’t go anywhere without my security right now. Is it going to be a bother if you went to my place instead? I have something to tell you.”

“YN, of course not. I’m just going to take a shower and head straight to where you are. Also, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep. Just a lot of things. But I’ll tell you everything later,” you blow out a long frustrated sigh on the other line. “I’m gonna need a year’s worth of sleep after everything.”

“You need coffee, got it.”

“Shit, you’re good. That got me horny,” he chuckles and shakes his head. This is another side of you that has made him fall so hard. “See you in a bit, YN. I’ll be quick.”

—Three—

The door to your house opens and it reveals a very fresh, very newly showered, Jung Jaehyun. In his left hand is the coffee he promised you. While you want to jump him, you restrain yourself because you’re about to deliver him some news that will probably wipe the dimply-grin he has off his face.

“I want to hug you but I’m gross and you’re newly showered,” you’re slumped on your sofa and you look at the uniform you’re still wearing. Your boots are still on and your hair is for sure a mess after wearing your beret the whole day. You don’t even want to try and smell yourself. 

“You in your uniform never fail to give me a hard on, YN,” you scoff at the man who went straight to where your boots are to remove them from your feet. “You and your kinks,” you retorted.

You stare at Jaehyun who is currently untying the lace of your boots. He removes the left boot and the right and as he successfully removes both your socks, he massages your feet a little bit. Just enough to relax your soles. This man, who also must have had an equally exhausting day, went straight to give you a foot massage. 

“How does a hot bath sound?”

“To be honest, heavenly,” Jaehyun lifts his head to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Let me prepare one for you.” You mumble a small and shy okay before Jaehyun stands and goes upstairs, probably to your room to prepare the warm bath. 

You fidget your toes as you wait for him to come back. These things that Jaehyun is doing for you are more than just fruits of friendship, you’re sure of it. But there’s an ongoing war in your mind that holds you back. You worry he’ll resent you one day for failing to protect him both from physical and emotional harm and you can’t live with the possibility. But you want him so much since the first night you met that it’s killing you inside.

“YN, think we can get you undressed while the tub is being filled with water.”

“Yeap, okay,” you start to get up but Jaehyun stops you. So you just look at him confused. “Let me take you up.” You don’t protest his proposition as he carries you like a child in his arms. He’s carried you way too many times already to be flustered at the gesture. Hell, his tongue even tasted every inch of your skin. But even as you convince yourself that it’s not a big deal, your face betrays you. And when Jaehyun looks at you, he notices the warmth spreading on your cheeks and all of a sudden, he feels warm, too. 

Jaehyun sets you down on the bed and goes to the bath probably to check if the tub’s been filled and the water is just right. Just a few moments and Jaehyun is back with you. He unbuttons your top and hangs it up in your dresser. He unzips and peels off your pants next until you’re only in your underwear. He gives you a nice kiss on the cheeks as he removes your bra. His hands trail to your hips and the lace of your panty is just between his fingers for a second too long before he pulls it down. And now you’re fully naked in front of him. You see the up and down of his throat but in the years you’ve known him, you know he absolutely won’t make a move unless he’s done making you comfortable.

Jaehyun carries you to the bath and settles you gently into the tub. You sigh at the contact of warm water, it’s like all the worries and stress  dissipate with the steam. Jaehyun puts some shampoo into your scalp scrubber and he starts massaging your head with it.

“That feels so good,” you groan with so much relief.

“So good you can relax?”

“Absolutely.”

There was comfortable silence afterwards. You just stare at Jaehyun and his busy hands cleaning your hair and then lathering soap on your body giving your tense muscles some good massage here and there. 

“I have to talk to you about something.”

“Of course, I’m listening,” he responds as he scoops some water in his hands to wash away some soap that got too close to your eye.

“I told the President we’re dating,” Jaehyun looks at you with parted lips.

“But you said -”

“I know, but,” you sigh before continuing, “something came up.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Jaehyun asks carefully, probably being cautious about not pressuring you into divulging details you can’t share, another thing that you appreciate about him the most. 

“There’s this mission we’re preparing for. And based on my assessment, I think it’s best for me to be personally involved in it,” Jaehyun slowly nods in understanding.

“But how does that relate to you telling the President that we’re dating? But just so you know, totally not mad about it. I like it, actually.” You roll your eyes at the cheeky smile that Jaehyun whipped up. And you flicked some water towards his face when he kept raising his eyebrows.

“The President thinks it's a dangerous mission and that he could lose his Chief from it. HE doesn’t believe my love for this country is a strong enough force to push my will to live and make sure I return safe, so,” you pause and look Jaehyun in the eye, “I told him, I’m dating you. That I will be back no matter what because someone I love is waiting for me and I can’t bear to disappoint that man.”

Somewhere along your sentence, you whispered a word or two, probably the part where you professed your love for him was a decibel more fit for your K9s at work.

Jaehyun cupped your right cheek, his thumb gently grazing over your cheekbones. With this, you’re forced to look at his eyes which held emotions you couldn't fully understand. There’s warmth, and love, and then worry, and overall softness to his gaze that makes you weak.

And then, his lips brushed yours—soft, tentative, as if the world itself might break if he moved too quickly. It was so gentle, almost hesitant, but it was everything. Very different from all the kisses you’ve shared so far. All the longing, all the moments they had both kept hidden, poured into that single, quiet kiss.

The kiss deepened, his tongue begging access to your mouth, and all of a sudden nothing mattered. Jaehyun’s lips were insistent now, as though he was trying to pour all the things he couldn’t say into this one perfect, imperfect moment. When he breaks the kiss, you’re panting.

“Wow,” you breathed out between Jaehyun’s quick pecks after that breath-taking kiss.

“So what I heard is that you’re about to go into a very dangerous mission that could potentially kill you,”

“What the hell -”

“And that you will be back because you love me.”

“Uh, yes. That’s what I said.”

“Fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. It’s just that my mind is on a marathon right now. I love you, too, you must have known that for -”

“You love me, too?”

“Come on, YN, you can’t honestly believe I’d stick this long if I didn’t love you. And really, bubble baths on a weekday at midnight? Love is the only explanation for my willingness. You’re telling me you really didn’t know?” Jaehyun exclaims with a hint of offense. But the truth is you’ve known about it for a very long time. In the quietness and the loudness of your friendship, you’ve known about his love for you ever since it started to bloom.

“No, I know…” you mumble.

“Good girl. So as I was saying,” he blows out a long sigh, “I love you so much, but I’m so fucking worried thinking about what you just shared.”

“Why? Don’t trust me?”

“Of course I do, you can deadass exterminate a whole mafia by yourself.”

“Good, so don’t worry because like I said, I don’t want to disappoint this man who’s waiting for me.” you said to pacify him before reaching out to him for another quick kiss.

“Mm, YN, you know how I think you’re the strongest person in the whole world. But this worry I have is something I can’t help. So while trusting you, I will also worry about you,” 

“Yeah, okay,” you answer quietly. You can’t help but agree because you feel the same. While you trust yourself to protect him from any and all pain at all costs, you also can’t help but worry you’re going to be the greatest heartache he’s ever going to have, whether it's your fault or fate’s.

“When is this mission happening?”

“In three days’ time.”

“Shit.” You look at his face and see that there’s a million thoughts racing inside his head. You caress his face hoping it would calm and comfort him little.

“Not too much time, huh?”

“Yeah,”

“We should start fucking to reach quota, then,” you laughed too hard at Jaehyun’s attempt to make things lighter. 

“I agree, you should get started.”

Without a beat, Jaehyun is carrying you out of the tub and onto the sink that had a towel laid down. 

“Gotta dry your hair first,” He takes another towel and starts patting your hair dry. “But not too dry, if you don’t mind because your confession got me hard so fast.” You giggle at his silliness and just let him do whatever.

When your hair is no longer dripping wet, he sets the towel aside and looks at you from head to toe. He takes a strand of your hair away from your face before settling his fingers on the side of your neck. 

“So pretty like this,” he peppers your neck with kisses, his lips travelling down south to your chest. His hands settle on your hips, “So pretty and all mine.” 

His kisses trail down to your breasts, then to your stomach, then just above your slit. He gives you one last hungry look before he gives your pussy one long lick and wraps his mouth around your clit. The warmth of his mouth makes you throw your head back. His right hand gives your hip a squeeze before he brings his fingers to your core, inserting two digits at once, giving you a delicious stretch. All the while his left hand is stationary on your hip, making sure you remain where he wants you to be. 

He curls his fingers to press on the sensitive spot inside you, “Fuck,” is your only response. Jaehyun is a starved man by the way he sucks at your bud. He’s desperate to taste and drink you up. By the way his mouth and fingers are going, you know he doesn’t have to wait any longer. 

Jaehyun moves his left hand to the inside of your thighs to spread your legs even wider, to give him more access. Jaehyun eats you out with more vigor and more speed in his fingers. You let your hands grip on his hair, your eyes rolling at the sinful feeling of his tongue and lips.

“J-Jae, please!” you scream as you feel your stomach tightening. Jaehyun knows you’re close, so he guides you into that orgasm by stuffing another finger inside of you. This does the trick. You moan his name as you come undone. He removes his fingers from your core only to use both his hands to spread you open so he can lick you dry and clean. You get sensitive from his continuous lapping so you try to push his head away from your core.

But Jaehyun is feral, “Not yet baby girl. Gonna make sure I get every last drop of you.”

And you know better than to argue. So you just let your hand rest on his shoulder as you allow him to drink you to his heart’s content. Once he’s done, you’ve become a panting, shaking mess. No strength in your legs and no single thought in your head.

“Thank you, baby. Shall we move to the bed?” you don’t answer and just wave your hands at him, signalling he can do whatever he wants. And Jaehyun is more than happy to oblige. He carries you and throws you on the bed with too much excitement.

“Jaehyun!”

“Sorry, baby, you got me all worked up.” Without another word, he dives to where you are. His mouth quickly found its way to your right nipple, his next target. His left hand massaging and toying with your other breast. Without stopping his ministrations, he uses his free hand to pull his shirt off his body. Only when he needed to pull it over his head did he let go of your nipple. As he does, he tosses his clothing to the side and removes his jeans revealing his familiar yet still always mouth-watering cock. Jaehyun is a sculpture from the gods. Not only is his face and physique perfect, but his cock is, too. He is both long and thick that you always feel the stretch for days after every heated session. 

The sight gets you excited that you get up on your knees.

“Baby girl wants to suck me? Pleasure me with that beautiful mouth of yours?” you nod as you move closer to him. You take his cock in your hands and play with the tip for a bit before taking him fully in your mouth. 

“Fucking hell,” Jaehyun groans, “Pretty general, taking me in so good.” This encourages you to take him deeper in your throat. The feeling makes Jaehyun knit his brows and grab your hair in his hands. He pulls your hair, sending a pleasurable pain to your scalp. He guides you to take him even deeper, making you gag in response. Some drool escapes from the side of your mouth and the intrusion in your throat makes your eyes tear up. 

Jaehyun wipes the drool on the side of  your lips, “Want to see you cry only for my cock.” Jaehyun takes control of the pace and fucks your mouth with so much passion. You put your hands on his thigh for support, but his length accomplishes the picture he wants to see. It’s always a welcome challenge blowing Jaehyun, but the deed always brings you to tears. And there’s something about your tears that riles Jaehyun up every time. 

Seeing you look up at him crying and obediently and willingly taking him in your mouth, sends Jaehyun over the edge. “Gonna take my load like a good girl?” You nod at him as he groans and takes a few more thrusts. You gently tap his thigh encouragingly to signal him to let go. Your encouragement seems to do the thing because one more thrust and his delicious cum fills the walls of your mouth, some coming out from both sides of your lips. But as you are a good girl, you swallow everything, and even lick his cock clean. If he wants to get every last drop of you, you feel the same, too. As you continue to lick him, Jaehyun lifts your chin with his finger. He dips down to kiss you, licking your lips in the process. “Don’t you think we’re done.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” you respond with a raspy voice and he smiles at you as he guides you back down the bed. His fingers ghost over your core. Sucking Jaehyun had you dripping wet. “Still wet and ready for me?”

“Always. Still hard and ready for me?”

“That goes without saying. Now spread those legs for me nicely, baby.”

You obey his command. Jaehyun situates himself between your legs and teases your entrance with the tip of his cock that is still very much hard and proud. It’s as if he didn’t cum just a few seconds ago. 

Jaehyun tries to be a patient man but the truth of the matter is that he can never be. Especially not when you look so beautiful with your hair spread out around you, your forehead glistening with some sweat, and your cheeks stained with fresh tears. So he stops holding back and bottoms out inside of you in one quick thrust. 

You shout his name at the sudden penetration. The stretch is an addicting kind of pain. 

“Sorry, baby, this pussy is driving me crazy. I’m gonna move now, yeah?” You nod at Jaehyun, eager to feel more of him. He thrusts out half way before ramming back inside of you. You feel his tip hit a spot inside of you that makes you arch your back. The friction of his length  against your walls as he continuously pounds into you is an exhilarating experience. 

Jaehyun brings his fingers to your core. Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinches your clit sending your mind into haywire. 

“W-Wait!” you try to plead your case. By the looks of it, Jaehyun isn’t cumming anytime soon yet. If he continues to play with you like this, he’ll draw out another orgasm from you and you don’t think you can hold out. But Jaehyun is relentless. He only raises an eyebrow at your failed attempt to beg.

“No waiting, baby. Be a good girl for me and take what I give you,” he warns in a low voice. Jaehyun takes one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder to reach a deeper spot inside of you. You whimper at the change of pace, your fingers scratching his back, your other hand gripping at his hair.

Jaehyun takes your hand that’s gripping his hair and puts it over the part of your stomach that bulges with his every thrust, “Look how good you’re taking me,” he praises. He presses your hand down on your bulging stomach, adding both pain and pleasure to your body.

You suck in some air. At this point you’re breathless. Nothing but sinful sounds come out of your mouth. Your moans become higher in pitch by the moment, calling out Jaehyun’s name as if it will pull him out of the trance he’s in. It doesn’t.

His fingers are back to work on your clit, abusing it, determined to make you climax one more time. And Jaehyun succeeds. A powerful wave hits you and you almost black out. You feel every part of you shake. There’s a ring in your ear brought by the ridiculous high. But as you predicted, Jaehyun isn’t done. He continues to savor the feeling of you convulsing around him.

“Jaehyun please, need you to cum,” you beg in between labored breaths. Jaehyun manhandles you to switch your positions. Now you’re on top of him but he’s the one moving your hips up and down his cock, using you as he pleases. The new position allows you to feel his fullness even more. 

“Wanna come with you on top, ma’am,” he declares. 

Jaehyun will be the death of you. He guides your hips up and down at a monstrous pace. For every movement, your clit brushes against his base and its maddening. He reaches out to grab your head for a kiss, “Gonna cum.”

“P-Please, fill me with your cum.”

And he did not have to be told again, with one more thrust, Jaehyun came undone inside of you. You feel the warmth of his seed spreading inside of you. You slump your head against his chest without moving your hips. You’re spent. 

Jaehyun caresses your hair and you feel him plant a kiss on top of your head.

“You’re a dream.”

You can’t find the energy to move so you just lay there motionless, Jaehyun’s cock still inside of you. Meanwhile, Jaehyun rubs your hips, giving it subtle massages, before slowly slipping out of you. He changes your position to let you lay down. He adjusts your pillows and when he’s certain you’re comfortable, he gets up to get a warm towelette. Gently, he wipes the inside of your thighs clean. 

All the while, your eyes are shut, too tired to open them up. But when you feel the bed shift beside you, you open your eyes to find a smiley Jaehyun staring at you.

“You have my heart, YN, so please come back to me.” 

You smiled at Jaehyun and reached out to cup his cheek, “I’ll be back.”

–Four–

The plan was to be a trojan horse. 

True to the validated tip your office has received through a trusted mole, the kidnappers plan to abduct additional personalities to elevate the power they hold in negotiations. The targets have been identified to be the Jung sisters, daughters of South Korea’s top real estate developer, and both college students at Yonsei University. 

The group behind the kidnappings planned to abduct the Jung sisters during their ride back home from school. And that’s where you and your partner, Lt. Gen. Jennie, came into play. Both of you took the place of the Jung sisters to infiltrate the devils’ quarters. 

Now you’re here, finally leading everyone out of the building they were trapped in for months. The execution of the rescue was almost perfect. Until it wasn’t. 

Once you were abducted, you created a map of the place in your mind. Even while being blindfolded, you focused on the bits of information you can gather without eyesight. Before your eyes were covered, you noted that each of the three kidnappers carried a pistol-type handgun. And as you entered an establishment, you counted your steps and remembered every turn you took. You amplified your senses and noted every change in smell, floor feel, and temperature. You’re at a disadvantage. Entering the criminals’ den without so much as a knife is a suicide mission, as Yujin said. But you swore on your neck nobody is going to die on your watch. Not even yourself.

Your mole said there were a total of 12 armed men in the establishment, each taking turns in guarding the main room and the exit and entrance points. The plan was to separate and then meet up.  Through this plan, you can confuse and eliminate more armed men before reaching the exit of the building. Jennie took 4 of the victims with her to take a different route going to the exit while you took the other 4. 

You finally reunited with Jennie and her group and confirmed that you’ve each wounded 5 people, leaving you with just 2 more active hurdles. 

“It’s going to be okay, we’re almost out of here,” you comfort the hysterical group. Everyone is afraid and desperate to go back to their families. 

But just when you’re almost out in the open, 4 armed men are closing in on you. Two were chasing you from behind, and two were coming from the front. You wanted to shout profanities because two additional unaccounted armed criminals are going to make it harder to complete the rescue of a group of scared individuals.  But you held yourself back realizing your panic will only make everyone else panic. 

You can’t afford to get closed in on. The odds of sustaining injuries and fatalities are going to shoot up, especially in the face of desperate malefactors.

“Jennie, run behind everyone and fire the flare signal once you’re all out!”

Jennie looks at you in horror as your instructions dawn on her. You’re basically asking her to leave you alone.

“Don’t fucking hesitate lieutenant! That’s an order!” 

“Y-Yes, ma’am! Everyone, follow me!”

Leaving you alone is the only choice. You’re going to hold the kidnappers off. As Jennie and the whole group continue to run, you stop on your tracks and face the angry men. You fire two shots, successfully wounding one of  them. You have to weaken them as much as you can. Even with years of experience fighting wars, your strength is no match against 4 towering men with guns in their hands. But your resolve is the best there is.

You disarm the first man that charges at you, twisting his arm behind his back, and hitting the part of his neck with the base of your gun. The force renders the man down and unconscious. The next person charges at you with a knife which you quickly take from him. You thrust the knife deep into his thigh and butt his head twice. Once with your own head and another with the gun in your hand. 

Someone grapples you from behind and you struggle out of his hold. You take the knife out from the former’s thigh and try to reach the next one using the blade, to no avail. The man creates sufficient space between the two of you as he takes out a dagger of his own. He charges at you but as you try to charge at him too, the other conscious kidnapper pulls your leg, rendering you flat on the ground. 

The other takes his chance and stabs your leg with the dagger. You scream in anguish as you kick the second man in the face with your better leg. You take a rock beside you and smash it to the side of his head. When you see him trying to reach out for a nearby gun, you smash his hand, too. 

With one last person conscious, you will yourself to stand up despite the burn on your leg. You drop your gun and pull the dagger from your leg. You decided the dagger is going to be the weapon that helps you end this madness. With obvious rage in his eyes, the man runs at you with closed fists. You examine him, he has no weapon but his hands.

Once he reaches you, he gains an advantage with his height. He grabs you by the hips and topples you to the ground. You groan in pain at the impact on the back of your head. He takes the same rock you held earlier and bashes it against your temple. He takes the dagger from your hand and aims it at your gut. The blade comes in contact with your skin until you feel the burn ripping through your flesh.

“Fuck!” 

You stop his hands but not fast enough to prevent a puncture. The blade continues to dig into you. You feel weak and your adrenaline is dissipating. Maybe it’s because of the comfort knowing that Jennie has brought the group to safety. She fired the flare sending the signal to the team on standby a few meters away  for rescue. Your mission is done and you’re sure you won’t immediately die from a slitted gut. You’ll bleed out for a few hours first, if this man on top of you won’t rampage and inflict several more stab wounds. But nonetheless, everyone’s safe. 

You have my heart, YN, so please come back to me.

“Jaehyun!” Shit, everyone’s safe except you. You promised not to disappoint the man. So with one last surge of strength, you butt his head with yours and push him away from you. He lets go of the dagger, leaving it in you. You know better than to pull it out so you run to one of his colleagues and search his body for another weapon you can use. And you weren’t disappointed. You find a pistol and aim it at your last enemy. 

He was charging at you and this was your last chance. So with Jaehyun’s words echoing in your thoughts, you pulled the trigger hitting the criminal right in the middle of his eyes. You don’t watch him crash down because you started coughing out some blood.

“General!”

From a near distance, you see some people running to you. You make out Jennie’s face as the one running in front. Your legs give up on you and you fall to the ground. But Jennie is already there to get you.

“General! Medic’s here, please stay awake!”

You signal Jennie to come closer to you to whisper your greatest concern at the moment. Jennie obliges and listens to what you have to say intently. You whispered what you had to say before the responders surrounded you and tended to you. You’re whisked away from Jennie’s arms and into the ambulance.

You see flashes of light and everything around you is in chaos. But you couldn’t care less. Not when Jaehyun was the last face in your mind as you blacked out.

–Final–

After 86 harrowing days in captivity, the eight individuals kidnapped by a Russian-led mafia syndicate have finally been reunited with their families, all thanks to the unwavering courage of General YN Park and Lt. General Jennie Kim, who bravely undertook the perilous mission alone.

National Assembly Speaker Minseok Kim has expressed profound gratitude toward General Park and her team, especially as he is reunited with his daughter, one of the victims in this case.

The surviving members of the syndicate have been handed over to the authorities for further investigation and due process.

However, General Park remains under care at Seoul National Hospital, where she is receiving treatment for serious injuries sustained during the mission. Prior to being transported to the hospital, the General was seen whispering something to Lt. General Kim. When asked about the General’s last words before receiving medical attention, Lt. General Kim revealed, “The General asked me to tell the doctor to minimize the scarring of her wounds—she has a beach trip planned next month.”

Jaehyun humorlessly laughs at the conclusion of the news. Only you can think about a beach trip while being in the face of death. 

However, despite the light hearted news, his legs take quick and huge strides to where your hospital room is. He didn’t bother taking the back entrance, the front entrance will bring him faster to you. He knows photos of him and news about the two of you will fill the papers and broadcasts tomorrow, but he didn’t care. His thoughts are fully on you. His heart is about to give up on him and all he wants is to see and hold  you. 

He reaches the floor where you are and as expected, it’s filled with security. You don’t see Yujin anywhere to help you get inside. But its okay, you gave him something that will get him to you.

“Woah, what’s this?”

“This is my seal. I’ve requested three of these from the bureau. The other two are with my parents and this one is for you. When you need me, you show this to any of my subordinates and they’ll bring me to you no matter what. Whether I’m in a meeting or in another country fighting a war, they’ll bring me to you. Use this any time.”

Jaehyun reaches out from his pocket and shows your seal to the first two soldiers guarding the area. Recognition dawns on their faces and they let him in. The others lead you to your room and as he opens the door, there you are lying down peacefully on the bed.

He walks to where you are and sits on the side of your bed. He takes your hand in his and gives it a longing kiss. He plays with your fingers and brushes some loose strands of your hair away from your face.

And as if you sense his presence, you slowly open your eyes. Jaehyun’s eyes widen at your consciousness and tries to get up to get a nurse. But you held on to his finger and whispered with all your strength, “I-I came back.”

You catch a glimpse of a tear rolling down his cheek before he plants a long chaste kiss on your lips, “Yes,” he chokes, “Yes,  you did, baby. Thank you for coming back to me.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Not-So Secretive Rendezvous

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving, age gap

Request by anon: I'd love a Spencer X Fem Reader thing,  say season 3-4 prince charming hair version ya know?  That era is totally hot.  Anyway, reader is Hotch's sister or Daughter, 10 year age gap between reader & Spence.  I'm a total sucker for a forbidden, sneaking, secretive thing with them getting caught in a very compromising position.  Hotch is fine with it but disappointed they didn't clear it with him. Maybe she works in the BAU but maybe not?  Some hot spice with his awkward self.  I always have a thought of him being so awkward around women in social situations like with JJ in the baseball game stuff, but with his Eidetic memory he definitely knows how to please women for sure.   Any other details i'll leave you with free rein!

Summary: You and Spencer are a new couple that is hiding your relationship from the team for two reasons. Hotch is your dad and Spencer is ten years older than you are. That doesn’t stop you from being with him. Not your dad and certainly not an office full of people.

Square Filled: public sex/voyeurism (2021) for @cm-kinkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

There are two reasons why you’re at the BAU--Spencer and Hotch. This is the place you want to work when you have the proper training and have done everything that’s required of you. You graduated high school before summer started and now you’re taking college classes with a degree in criminal justice while also getting in some hours at the police academy. It doesn’t hurt that your dad is the unit chief of the BAU, but you try not to let that affect how well you’re doing in and out of school.

The other reason is Spencer Reid. You two immediately hit it off when you first met and he’s been showing you around as much as he can without getting in trouble. He can’t tell you much about the cases the team has but he can give you advice and pointers for when you get a job here. Derek helps you with the physical stuff while Spencer is your own personal library book that just so happens to have all the answers you’re searching for.

After a few months of visiting your dad and the team, you and Spencer developed a relationship that only you two know about. Keeping your relationships a secret isn’t something you normally do because if you like someone, you’re all about showing them off to everyone. However, you and Spencer are ten years apart in age, and you don’t think your dad will appreciate his eighteen-year-old daughter hooking up with his twenty-eight-year-old subordinate.

It’s not a big deal to you and Spencer since you’re not newly eighteen. It’s September and you turned eighteen back in January. He’s been so good to you and is such a gentleman. He’s a romantic and loves taking you out on dates as much as he can. Your favorite date is when he puts a tent on the roof of his building, makes everything for a picnic, and you two spend the night stargazing there.

Unlike now when your visit is anything but romantic.

It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Spencer and you’re craving his touch. You’re not normally a sex-crazed teenager but you’re ovulating and you really need to feel his body on yours. You’re not ready for kids and you don’t know if or when you will be, so you’ll be using condoms because it’s a terrible time to get pregnant.

Not to mention your dad will quite literally kill Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Derek asks when he sees you.

“Just wanted to stop by to say hi. I hear the B Team is out right now so what better time to come?”

“Your dad is in his office.”

“Where’s Spencer.”

“Bathroom.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for him. Thanks.”

You turn to leave but Derek stops you.

“Hey, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’m ready to learn that new self-defense technique.”

You walk straight for Spencer’s desk only to walk right past it and toward the bathrooms. Derek smirks and shakes his head knowing you’re not here to see your dad at all. Spencer comes out of the bathroom with his phone in his hand so he doesn’t see you right away. You open the door to an empty office and wait for him to pass by it before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.

“Wha--?” He looks up and smiles when he sees it’s you. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming today.” You close and lock the door before shutting the blinds so that no one can look inside. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.”

You pull Spencer in and kiss him without warning, and he grips your hips not too hard. He gets lost in the kiss before the alarm bells ring in his head.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Spencer pulls away from you but you’re not done kissing him. You back up into the desk and sit on it while kissing down his neck. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but we can’t do this here.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then get me naked and fuck me.” It’s hard to think when all Spencer is thinking about is getting you naked. He’s not a sex machine who wants it all the time but it has been a week since he’s seen you, and the last case he went on was very stressful. “School has been stressing me out and I really just want some dirty sex with you.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He spreads your legs and steps in between them before kissing you again. He runs his hands down your thighs and back up, only to slip them underneath your dress. You wanted to make sure you gave Spencer easy access. He expected to feel a barrier between his fingers and your pussy but there is none.

“You’re not wearing any panties?”

“I came here for one thing and one thing only,” you grin. “I wanted to make this easier for you.”

Spencer rolls his head back and cracks his neck before sinking to his knees. He’s not an expert in this department but he’s read enough books and watched enough amateur porn to know what he’s doing. He places a hand on your chest, pushes you down onto the desk, and bunches your dress around your waist.

“Remember, we’re at work and your dad’s office is right down the hall. You gotta be quiet.”

You’re about to respond when Spencer latches onto your clit. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. It would be a disaster if your dad found out about this… or anyone. He kitten licks your clit and circles it before sliding his tongue down to your slit. He straightens his tongue and pushes inside of you, and his right-hand hooks up and over your leg so that he can rub your clit in hard fast circles.

“Fuck, Spencer, right there,” you gasp quietly.

“God, you taste so good,” he mumbles. “I can’t ever get enough.”

You reach down and slide your fingers into his hair before tugging on it gently. This is the exact reason why he’s been growing his hair out. He loves it when you tug on his hair. His mouth and fingers switch positions so that he’s sucking on your clit and sliding a finger into your tight hole. You squeal a bit loudly at the sudden change in pressure, and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying out again.

“Please, Spencer, I need more,” you moan.

He slides in another finger and curls them both so that he’s touching the spot that makes you see stars.

“Are you close?”

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, please, Spencer,” you moan.

“Go ahead, darling.”

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit that makes you come all over his face. He removes his fingers and laps up every drop you give him before standing to his full height.

“God, you’re so good at that.” You pull him down and kiss him, not minding that you can taste yourself on his lips. “I need to come again. I have a condom in the pocket of my dress.”

“You’re so needy,” he grins but doesn’t refuse you.

He pulls away and takes the condom you give him before unbuckling his pants. He’s always awkward at this part because he still can’t believe that he has someone who is interested in him like this. He’s not ripped like Derek or as confident as him but you like him because he’s none of those things. You love how socially awkward he is. You love his ramblings. You especially love it when he tells you random facts that have you questioning how he came to know that in the first place.

Spencer pulls his cock out and you almost salivate at the sight of it. You’ve given him blow jobs before but there will never be a time when you don’t want to suck him off. However this time, you just need him to be in you. He takes out the condom from the package and carefully rolls it onto his hard cock.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Spencer, please. Just get in me.”

You spread your legs wider and allow him to step closer to you. He pumps himself twice before lining himself up at your entrance. You toss your head back and gasp at the one… three… seven inches of him until he is fully seated inside of you.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Spencer groans.

“I’m ready. Please, Spencer,” you beg.

He doesn’t want to be too loud so he doesn’t fuck you as hard as he wants to. He starts at a normal pace before slowly picking up speed, and you’re trying to stop the moans from coming out but failing. He covers your mouth with his hand as if that will stop you from moaning his name.

It’s been a long and stressful time for you both so it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Hearing Spencer swear when he normally doesn’t is so hot. He hates swearing since he has such a big range of vocabulary that he can use, but he can’t help it when you feel like Heaven. “Are you close?” You nod wordlessly since Spencer’s hand is still over your mouth. “Come with me. One.” Thrust. “Two.” Thrust. “Three.”

You explode all over him just as he fills the condom up. He rides out both your highs as much as he can before slowing down. He removes his hand and you gasp when you feel him start to pull out of you.

“I don’t know how you haven’t had more girlfriends before,” you laugh as you pant.

“It’s usually my incessant need to ramble that drives them away.”

He takes the condom off and ties it at the end before pocketing it., He doesn’t want anyone to find it in the trashcan so he’ll throw it out in the dumpster outside.

“Have you seen Y/N? I saw her come in earlier.”

You freeze when you hear your dad’s voice outside the office.

“I think she went to see Garcia. You should ask her,” Rossi responds from right by the door. You hear your dad walk away before Rossi knocks twice on the door. “You two aren’t very quiet or sneaky.”

“Shit, I should go,” you giggle. You fix your dress and Spencer tucks himself back into his pants. The room smells like sex but you’re sure it will air out by the time anyone else comes in here. “I love you and I can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”

You lean in and kiss Spencer before unlocking the door.

“I love you, too,” Spencer grins. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Oh, we definitely are.” You open the door and notice Rossi is in the break room. You make sure the coast is clear before leaving the office. You turn the corner and go crashing into your dad. “Daddy, hi. I was just looking for you. Someone said you wanted to see me?”

Hotch looks up and sees Spencer leave the office from which you just came out. He didn’t bother fixing his hair as much as he should have so it’s a big messed up from how much you were tugging on it, and your lipstick is a bit smudged from Spencer’s hand over your mouth.

Hotch isn’t an idiot.

“My office. Now.”

You look up to see him looking at someone behind you. You look back and see Spencer staring at Hotch with wide, fearful eyes.

“Daddy, listen--”

“Don’t you have a class to go study for? Reid, now.”

“Yes, sir,” he nods and scurries past you to get to his office.

“Daddy, I love him. Please don’t kill him. I’ll talk to you later.”

You leave before your dad can say anything else. Hotch isn’t mad that Spencer is seeing his daughter. He’s upset that you two hid it from him. He’s not gonna kill Spencer but it is sure going to be fun to watch him squirm because he thinks he is.

x

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[city-of-ladies]

"Women participated in war, an aspect of life that may be classified as political. Father Peter De Smet, the famous Jesuit missionary, recorded that Flathead women served as assistants in warfare: they retrieved arrows and intervened in the battle if a relative’s life was endangered. Point said of women’s battle role:

Several women rivaled the bravest of the men in courage. In the midst of the fray an elderly woman, hatchet in hand, hurled herself so violently between her son, whose horse was tiring, and a Crow on the point of reaching him, that the pursuer, despite his giant stature, judged it prudent to move away. Another younger woman went about on the battlefield gathering up arrows for those of her warriors who had run out of them. Another, who had advanced too far in pursuit of the enemy, made such a swift about face, at the very moment several arms were outstretched to grab her, that she galloped back to her own lines leaving the enemy stupefied. Still another, after having spent some time pursuing several Crows, returned saying, “I thought these great talkers were men, but I was wrong. They are not even worth pursuing.” 

Point further mentioned a female warrior in passing: “All the Pend d’Oreilles warriors rode out, led by Kuiliy, a young Pend d’Oreilles woman renowned for intrepidity on the field of battle.” Unfortunately, he did not further describe this woman. 

Another warrior woman was Colestah, wife to Chief Kamiakin, who participated in the Battle of Four Lakes and Spokane Plain against Colonel George Wright in 1858. She armed herself with a stone war club and fought by her husband’s side. When Kamiakin was wounded, she rescued him and - being a medicine woman - used her healing skills to cure him. It is apparent that women had the option of becoming not only assistants in warfare but warriors in their own right, either regularly or on an occasional basis. Plateau women apparently took part in peacetime politics as well as war. “It is no rare occurrence to see a woman step in during council and severely upbraid the chief”.

Before Plateau people were restricted to reservations, a few women participated in warfare on a voluntary basis, sometimes in defense. While under siege from the Assiniboine, a Flathead woman ran out of a besieged tent with a pistol and shot an attacker dead. Southern Okanogan women and children retired behind barricades during raids on the village. If an enemy approached too closely, a woman “with much power” (spiritual) seized weapons and fought even if menstruating. Her guardian spirit protected her and made her strong. Under such circumstances, a woman could touch weapons and retain the enemy weapons she had captured. 

Traditions of warrior women were collected in 1980 on the Colville Reservation. Emily Peone, a granddaughter of the great Chief Moses of the Moses-Columbia, narrated: 

Women fought in battles; went out with war parties. My mother’s father took his younger wife along. She dressed herself in her finest clothes so that if she died, she would be wearing her funeral clothes; they wouldn’t have to dress her. Women used a club on enemies, and lances too. They took stuff along to dress wounds. They helped the wounded and rescued men in trouble. Chief Moses was always noticeable by his fine clothes in battle. So his sister-in-law saw him fall in the fighting. She galloped to him and chased away his attacker. Then she fixed his wound. These were brave women. The warriors on the other side would kill women. 

The women who rode out with raiding parties were distinguished from other women only by their great physical courage: they had no unusual social status. Consultants did not recall where they obtained their weapons and shields, but they carried them. Since female combatants were as likely to be killed or captured as a male, they were prepared to fight. Most women saw their function as helping the wounded and rescuing men in danger, as in the narrative above. In the course of these activities, however, they did not hesitate to kill opposing warriors if the opportunity arose.

 A few women participated as warriors completely, as recorded by early missionaries in the area. Such full female warriors were not remembered on the Colville Reservation, but a female Nez Perce from Idaho participated in the war against the Euro-Americans. She was able to do so over the objections of her husband and two young children, indicating the extent of the autonomy that Plateau women exercised."

A necessary balance, gender and power among Indians of the Columbia Plateau, Lillian A. Ackerman

[strawbeerossi]

Let Me Hear You

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unit Chief!Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer pull an all nighter to get caught up on paperwork. However whenever you decide to break to eat, you find yourself with some free time before the food gets there.

Content/Warnings: Talking about sex, food mentions and being hungry, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Twenty Five: Sound Kink

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

One thing you learned about Spencer was that he liked to let the world know what was his. For instance, he was proud for everyone to know he was the newest acting unit chief after Emily passed the baton so she could be the first female director of the FBI. It was a big achievement for him after spending years dedicating his time to his career. Another thing he liked to tell the world was about his academic career, all his PHDs and academic excellency being a proud achievement he was happy to let everyone hear about.

He wore these achievements like a badge of honor. Anyone in his shoes would. His personal life was more quiet, although one part of it was something he was far too proud to show off. You. You’d begun dating while you worked in a separate sector of the FBI, your transfer being about a year after you both started seeing each other. You enjoyed having a man as strong as him as well as a job where you did important things.

You’d currently been pulling an all nighter at the office, catching up with the shocking amount of paperwork you let pile on your desk. Spencer had planned on staying as well, so it worked out a lot better than you’d expected. You were both sitting in his office, the both of you having coffees filled to the brim for the night ahead. “You can summarize things, you know.” Spencer had commented with a chuckle, eyes looking over the huge statement you were writing. “This is a summary. Oh, my god. Is it too long?!” You asked while lifting your head to face your boyfriend, who chuckled. “No! I was just letting you know, that's all.”

As the paperwork dragged on, Spencer was eventually closing the file in his hand. “What do you say we take a break? I think we’ve earned it.” Which you didn’t object, your eyes crossed from all the reading and writing you’d been doing. As you placed the completed files to the side, you leaned against your boyfriend’s desk. “Should we order from that all night burger place in town? I’m pretty sure they deliver.” You inferred while Spencer was tapping his pen against the desk. “Yeah, let’s go ahead and order from there tonight. Seems easy and quick enough.” He chuckled. Which was exactly what you both did. After calling in your orders and confirming they did deliveries, it was a waiting game now.

“I know something that’ll pass the time.” Your boyfriend teased, eyebrows wiggling while you laughed and rolled your eyes with a smile. “Is sex on your mind all the time?” You asked in a teasing tone while he put his hands up in self defense. “Look at my girlfriend. Any guy would be lucky enough to be able to put their hands on you.” He was pushing himself to stand while offering a hand in your direction, tugging you up and to his chest when you took it. “Besides, don’t act like you aren’t jumping on me any chance you get.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a laugh, head dipping down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

The sweetness eventually escalated though, your bodies pressed flush against one another as your kiss had deepened. You were backing up with Spencer’s assistance before your body was hitting the couch towards the left side of the office. With both of you giggling due to your eagerness causing you to fall back, your head was lifting as you could feel his hands moving to bunch up the skirt you were wearing. “We don’t have much time.” He murmured, which you nodded as you were pushing your panties to the side as Spencer pulled his cock from his slacks.

After giving a few lazy tugs, the thick head of his shaft was plunging into your hot, leaking cunt. Your hands were quick to grasp at his shoulders. “Fuck.” You hissed, biting your lower lip as his hips were snapping into yours. You were making an effort to keep it down, already knowing there were cleaning crews as well as other agents working late on the floor. Last thing you needed was to alert everyone.

However Spencer seemed to realize, his hands squeezing your hips as his head was dipping in order for him to whisper in your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel good in here. I wanna get complaints.” He murmured against your ear, a moan tumbling out of your mouth at the request. “Tell the office that you liked getting fucked by your unit chief like the whore you are.” The words had your hands clutching his shoulders tighter as you were letting your head tilt back. His hand had slid down your body, thumb rubbing at your clit before he was pinching it between his fingers to elicit a cry from you, knowing exactly how to get you crying and moaning loud enough for every floor to hear.

“That’s right. Fuck. Take my cock so well. I know you love it when I pound your sweet pussy.” He hummed in her ear. “Bet you want me to fill you up too. Don’t you?” The words were enough to help drive you both closer to the edge, your eyes falling shut as the moans and whines just fell from your lips. Once the filter was taken away, you made it known that you were getting fucked in the office. As you’d both approached your orgasms, Spencer had managed to get rougher on you.

With his grip tightening on your hips, he’d let himself go overboard as he was jackhammering against the spongy button that he’d been prodding within the past few minutes.

The force had a fire spreading all throughout your body, louder moans and pleas for him not to stop now filling the once quiet and peaceful office space. As you were being fucked into oblivion, it wasn’t long until your cunt was clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him in as best as you could as your orgasm was making you see stars. Your body jolted with a few more rough thrusts before you could feel a warmth gushing inside of you, chest rising and falling rapidly as you were clutching your boyfriend tighter.

However it wasn’t long until you’d gotten a text, Spencer being the one to gently pull out of you before approaching the desk. “The food is here. Why don’t you lay here and relax? I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah.. Might be best..” you commented, face flushed as you were pulling your panties back into place and smoothing out your skirt.

“I’m starving anyway.” You laughed.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 11

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Happy Father's Day and early Juneteenth! In honor of the holiday weekend, here's an early chapter update. 😘

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Part 11: The Lion’s Den

“Where is she?” Ben asked, once he and Frank were loaded in the car. 

Loco and his team had to stay behind as their distraction for escape. If they weren’t slaughtered, they’d be taken into custody. 

Ben knew he could’ve wasted all of them, Butcher, his team, the CIA, but the nuclear power in his chest had refused to cooperate…

Anyway, Black Noir hadn’t been there. So it was all the more useless to stick around. The real plan was with you, and he was very surprised that you’d stuck to it…but maybe he shouldn’t have been.

“She was brought to the Tower,” Frank informed him.

Ben smirked. “Good. But pretty fucking stupid of Stan to stick around there when he knew I’d be coming.”

He looked over and noticed Frank’s frown as he drove. 

“Unless he’s not at the Tower,” Frank said. 

Ben’s smirk fell. Why would that prick take her there if…

“We have to be open to the possibility that his Chief of Security is taking the matter of his daughter into his own hands,” Frank said. “Or she’s improvising.”

Ben frowned. 

That didn’t change when they arrived at the Tower, and attempted to use the entrance through the back garage to avoid attention. But it didn’t matter. 

The entire squad of Vought security, included what looked like some added muscle (hopped up on what smelled like V24), met them when they reached the lobby of the building. Now that the Seven had been disbanded, there was no pretense of “good guys vs. bad guys.” It was just defense and siege. 

And in front of them all was Black Noir. 

“There you are,” Ben said, but the other supe didn’t even tilt his head in greeting. He was a still statue, an attack dog given a single mission. 

When Noir surged forward, Ben ran to meet him. It was a clash of blade to shield, fist to fist, grappling and reflexes that only Compound V could endow. The match tore through the lobby, then up the large staircase as Ben continued to fight his way up to Stan’s office. 

Frank was already on his way up to you, but it would take him time with Vought security crawling all over them. He was good, and temporarily a supe, but he was still just one man. 

Meanwhile, Ben and Noir’s fight spilled into the upper floors, through walls and offices and screaming employees trying to get out of their way. 

Once they reached near the floor below Stan’s office, Ben got an arm around Black Noir’s neck, and with his free hand tried to unmask him. He wanted to know for sure what lied underneath it, if it was actually the Noir he knew. Or if it was something else entirely.

But Noir twisted with superior reflexes and flipped Ben hard over his shoulder. In the process, he ripped off Ben’s helmet. His brown hair hung over his brows as he pushed to his feet, deliberately taking his time.

When he turned, Noir was standing there with the helmet crunched in his hand. Rolling his neck, Ben prepared to jump back into the fight, but a new sound reached his ears. 

He heard you on the floor above. And you were fighting someone…

Ben pressed a finger to the comm in his ear. 

“Frank, you got eyes on her?”

V24 had endowed the man with x-ray vision. A moment later, Frank patched through while he struggled and fought.

“She needs help,” he said gravely.

Ben took his hand off the comm, gritting his teeth. Black Noir was still waiting on him, attuned to Ben’s every move as the other supe brandished one of his blades.

Shit, Ben thought. He needed to end this. 

Right fucking now. 

That resolve helped him take a deep breath, then summon the energy inside him. He focused with the aim of blasting a clean stream of power at Black Noir; not enough to take out the whole building, but enough to take out just him.

His insides felt molten when the power collected, and finally released at his target.

Noir covered himself at the last moment with a piece of fallen debris (a half-crumbled wall), but it only created a small buffer. The force of the blast itself pushed him down the hall and through the side of the building.

Meanwhile, you were holding your own…but you were also getting beat to hell. 

You were battered, with blood dribbling down the corner of your mouth from a particularly bad hit. 

You were still standing though. 

“You’ve gotten soft,” Jon remarked. He’d broken a sweat, had some bruises, and was panting for breath just like you. But he was more in control as he swatted a well-aimed, yet ultimately weak fist as your strength waned. He used his own to smack you down again. 

“I gave you time to come around, and this is what you did with it,” he said, shaking his head. “Disappointing.” 

When you tried to stand on shaking legs, he kicked you in the dead center of your chest. You felt your ribs crack as you fell back into the glass coffee table. 

You gasped for breath, turning onto your side as glass pricked at your back, your sides, your arm. You coughed, wincing at the agony of knife-like pain near your lungs. Blood flecked from your mouth onto your arm, and for a moment, you stared at it in a daze.

But then Jon was above you. You tried to swipe at his face, but he bat your hand away, his brows furrowed angrily. He turned you back onto your back and wrapped a hand around your neck. Your eyes flew wide with panic. 

He squeezed with enough pressure that it wouldn’t crush your windpipe, but it was sure to knock you out eventually. You slapped and clawed at his hand, but he only shushed you. 

“What you need now is what you’ve always needed. A firm hand,” he said. “But I’m going to help you. I promise, I will.”

The fight drained out of you as it became impossible to breathe, and harder still to block out his words from entering your brain. 

But then, the vice around your throat was gone. Oxygen poured back into your lungs as you gasped, then coughed again when your fractured ribs protested. 

Your eyelids fluttered open in time to see your father thrown hard into the far wall. You heard the sick crack and breaking of bone as he landed.

Still, you struggled to breathe. 

Tears leaked from your eyes when you looked up and found Ben. His helmet was missing, and he wore a furious, steely frown. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out except for more coughing, and more blood.

To your surprise, he tucked his shield on his back and bent down to scoop you up into his arms. 

You cringed, uttering an agonized sound when he tried to move you. 

Ben hesitated. Looking down at you, some of his anger drained. He made a slower ascent as he straightened to his full height. 

And without a word, he carried you out of the room and down the ruined hallway. All the while, you stared at the side of his face. His jaw was still clenched, his brows knitted, his eyes set dead ahead. 

You wondered why he had to wait for moments like this to show you who he truly was. 

“What are you, some kind of hero?” you managed to quip, offering a small smile. 

Ben glanced down at you, and gradually smirked. “Something like that.” 

When his foot slipped on a piece of debris, he righted himself quick. But the jerking movement jostled you, eliciting another pained whimper. Your hand gripped at his chest, digging into the grooves of his suit.

“Hold on,” he murmured. His lips briefly pressed to the crown of your head. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

Your eyes closed at the tender touch, and a few more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“He…knew,” you managed to say. “Knew I was lying.”

“I know,” said Ben. “I should’ve fucking known better.”

You marveled at that near apology. Your lips trembled as you rested your head against his chest. You just couldn’t help it anymore.

“Was my idea,” you admitted.

“Yeah, well, evidently not all your ideas are aces,” he said. 

You could’ve gotten angry, but you saw the way he moved with care, trying not to slip again for your sake. You tried at a smile. 

“Guess not,” you said, though you bit your lip at the pain that seemed to radiate through your entire body. Ben seemed to notice. 

“Just relax,” he said, a deep rumble. But there was a soothing note to it, you thought. Or maybe, you just liked the sound of his voice. 

Then silence fell between the two of you, both comfortable and tense as Ben focused on potential threats in his surroundings. 

All the while, you continued to rest your eyes. Instead of your pain, you tried to concentrate on his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek.

“It’s about fucking time,” you eventually heard Ben grouse. 

You opened your eyes and were relieved to see Frank exiting the stairwell to meet you and Ben. His face and black tactical gear were splattered with blood, but he looked fine, more or less. His gaze roamed over you with his usual stoicism, but you thought you saw a glint of concern.   

“I take it Stan Edgar isn’t here,” said Frank. 

“You could fucking say that,” Ben snarked. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Sir.” Frank saw something ahead, behind you. Ben turned to find Black Noir silently standing in the middle of the hall, with a large, suspicious-looking gun in his hands.

Without taking his eyes off Noir, Ben gestured to Frank. He came up beside you, and Ben passed you into Frank’s arms.

“Get her out of here,” Ben ordered. With a nod, Frank carried you back the way he came, towards the staircase. You tried to peer over his shoulder.

“He shouldn’t face Noir alone,” you said, even though every breath was a challenge with the sharp pain in your chest. 

“He’ll meet us after,” Frank told you. But as soon as he started down the stairs, a fresh team of Vought security and police came to meet you.

Meanwhile, Ben stared down the hall at his opponent. Black Noir activated the strange gun, which lit up with a blue energy. 

“You can bring out any kind of fancy artillery you want, but it’s not going to stop me from killing you,” Ben taunted.

Noir remained silent, of course, but he aimed the gun and fired. It shot a potent, crystal blue beam of energy that ate through Ben’s shield, and eventually hit him in the chest before he could finish revving up his own power. The blast from the gun, it wasn’t hot. 

It was ice cold. So frigid that it extinguished the heat that had been building in his chest, but it wasn’t diffusing his power completely…it just made it even harder to control. 

And the resulting backlash was overwhelming.

Ben woke slowly, like wading through molasses. Usually his mind was sharp, even when he woke from a booze-induced coma. Now he felt groggy, and it was hard to focus or even force his body to sit up on the hard cot he was laying on.

Glancing down, he realized he’d been changed out of his suit. He was dressed in a plain gray shirt and matching pants, no shoes. He knew a prison outfit when he saw one, just as he now knew where he was: a white padded cell. 

Fuck.

At least it was better than a frigid coffin…but in his mind, not by much.

He slid his legs over and managed to push up onto his feet. 

Why’s it so fucking misty in here? he thought, waving his hand through the smokey air. And why was he so tired?

He soon got his answer when he realized who stood at the large window at the front of his cell. 

Stan Edgar. 

The man himself, dressed in a well-tailored navy suit, was watching him with crossed arms. 

“We did hope you would remain on sabbatical,” said Stan. “But I had a feeling you would return, and come directly to us.”

Stan gestured to the large cell. “This was our contingency plan.”

Ben made his way, with difficulty, closer to Stan, who pointed at the air vents above that were pumping in a gas of some kind.

“A light mist of Novichok,” Stan explained. “Enough to keep you docile.”

“And if I’m not?” Ben asked. His voice was edged with grit, and the promise of retribution. 

“We can up the dose, put you to sleep indefinitely,” Stan replied. “But you have my attention. What would you like to discuss?” 

“The conversation I planned on having was…a little different,” Ben said darkly. “But first, let’s start with what you used to clone Black Noir.”

“I suppose there’s no real harm in telling you,” Stan said. Even his voice was grating on Ben’s ears, the smug prick. 

“We kept some of Homelander’s blood as an insurance policy. But, we’ve learned from our mistakes.”

“Right,” Ben scoffed. “How’s that?”

“This Noir is not a carbon copy, but nor is he a megalomaniac. He’s under our control,” Stan said.

“Until he isn’t,” Ben snarked. If he thought about it, that was something you would say. Maybe your penchant for smart-ass remarks had gotten into his head.

“And that new gun?” he asked. “Don’t tell me your little lab rats put that together just for me.”

Stan’s lips made a wry turn. 

“It was a breakthrough project. Temporarily destabilizes the energy you generate when you charge up like a Power Puff Girl.” Stan thought for a moment, then inclined his head. “A reference, I realize, which may be lost on you.”

“So what’s the play here?” Ben said. He was getting impatient. “You know, when I break out, things aren’t gonna be pretty.” 

Stan didn’t seem bothered by the clear threat. 

“In the meantime,” he said, “you won’t be alone.” 

Stan stepped back and revealed the cell right across the hall. Through the window, Ben could see you, lying unconscious on a shitty cot in similar gray pajamas. His brows crunched as he narrowed his eyes, trying to peer in closer. You looked like you’d been bandaged up, at least.

“You also managed to put my Chief of Security in Intensive Care, but his daughter should be fine…if a bit worse for wear,” Stan informed him. 

Ben glared back, his lips curling. Sloppy of him. He should’ve made sure that bastard was dead. 

“That’s cute, considering he’s the demented fuck who beat her to hell,” Ben said. 

Stan rose a solitary brow. “And at whose behest did she enter the lion’s den?”  

Ben had nothing to say to that.

You woke with a pained groan before your eyes even opened. Your body felt like a walking welt. 

Your brain pounded like bongo drums, your chest felt tender with every infinitesimal movement, but you realized that you’d been seen to medically, at least. Your head was bandaged, and you felt that the blood had been wiped from your face and arms.

You looked up and found, with a sigh, that you were indeed in a cell. But you softened when you found Ben through the large glass window, in a cell of his own. He was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, with his back against the wall. His eyes found yours, and his lips twitched.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He sounded off. Tired, you thought. And you noticed a steady mist being piped into his room. 

Shit. Novichok, you surmised with a frown.

“You okay?” you asked. 

Ben chuckled a little. “You’re the one who looks like hell.”

“Why, thank you,” you replied wryly.

There was a pitcher and a cup of water on a tray, a small paper cup of what you assumed were painkillers, and an ice pack next to you on the cot. 

You hesitated on the pills, but in light of your incredible pain, you had no choice. You took the pills, drank the water, and grabbed the ice pack, pressing it against your sternum. You sat up all the way with a slow gait and a pained groan.

“Go slow,” he warned. “Bet you’re missing that Temp. V right about now.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“How’d you get caught?” he asked.

That succeeded in dimming your mood. You explained that Frank had been forced to set you on your feet when you were confronted by more security and a police squad. 

The man had been a one-man weapon; hopped up on V24 as he was, he managed to fight his way down to the garage, where you slowly, painfully crept down there.

You and Frank had almost reached his car, but you held him back. You were stubborn about waiting on Ben, even considered going back for him.

That was when the shot rang out, hitting Frank point blank in the chest. 

Before you could even bend to help him, you were taken, dragged back into the building, and knocked out before you could take your captor’s gun. 

You tried in vain to wipe away fresh tears while you retold the story. 

Bottom line: Frank’s death was your fault. Though while he frowned in disappointment, Ben didn’t seem to hold it against you.

“Good on ya, Frank,” Ben murmured. “You went down fucking swingin’.”

“What about you? What happened with Black Noir?” you asked after a moment. Sniffling, you met Ben’s eyes.

He eventually told you about the strange gun Vought had commissioned just for him. And the more you listened, the deeper your frown became. It sounded impossible.

“Makes you wonder what else they’ve been cooking up in that lab,” you muttered. 

“Other than Noir?” Ben quipped. He told you about that too. 

“We can figure this out,” you said. “If nothing else, my team, the CIA, they’re looking for both of us…if for different reasons.”

Ben scoffed at that. “A silver lining there. Make no mistake, we’re getting the fuck out of here. Just…need a minute to think.” 

But he was starting to wane. It was taking all his energy to concentrate on your voice, to even keep his eyes open. The steady stream of gas being pumped into his cell made it damn near impossible, and it was frustrating beyond belief. 

Because if he fell asleep now, there was no telling when he’d wake up. And fuck if Ben would ever admit to the panic he felt welling up into his chest.

“Aaah, fuck!” he growled, pounding a fist against the wall.

You noticed, biting your lip in concern…until an idea made you smile. It was something you used to do to distract your sister when she was little. 

“Why are colds bad criminals?” you asked. 

Ben just blinked at you. “What?”

He asked not because he understood what you were doing, but because he was genuinely confused.

“Because they’re easy to catch,” you said, making a drumming motion with your hands. “Buddum-ch.”

Your neighbor just stared back at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, not a fan of that one. Let me see…okay,” you raised a finger. “What does a baby computer call its father?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, like he couldn’t tell if you were serious.

“Data!” you said, biting your lip at an embarrassed smile. It curved Ben’s lips, but he was stubborn.

“Why was 6 afraid of 7?” you asked. 

“Jesus Christ, enough…” he muttered. 

“Because 7’s a dick, that’s why,” you said. And your straight face lasted for all of three seconds before you ended up giggling. It hurt your bruised body, but it lightened you to see the reluctant smile tug its way onto Ben’s face. 

“All right,” he said at last. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to remember a joke he’d heard Loco tell. “How do you make a pool table laugh?”

You smiled. “How?”

“Tickle its balls,” Ben said. Your answering snort deepened his smile into a smirk. 

“Playing bridge is just like sex,” you said. Ben shook his head. His grandmother used to play fucking bridge.  

But regardless, he took the bait.

“How’s that?”

“If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand,” you said with a smirk. 

Ben made a sound of amusement, though it wasn’t quite a laugh. You traded these back and forth, each trying to make the other crack with progressively dirtier jokes (though you suspected Ben was just trying to disgust you). 

You considered yourself the winner when Ben finally chortled a deep, belly laugh that showed his charming smile. 

It made you smile in return. 

Ben rested a hand on his chest, but when his mirth died down, he realized just how tired he was. Still, he wasn’t ready to let go of this. His connection with you tethered him to reality, even if reality sucked dick right now.

His gaze met yours. “Why don’t you sing something, crooner?” 

You bit your lip once again. “Like what?” 

Ben’s eyes closed.

“You know the one,” he said. A softer smile graced your lips, though he couldn’t see it. 

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” you teased. He chuckled. 

“Just sing, for fuck’s sake.” 

His brows were knitted, like he was trying all he could to stay awake. You took pity on him.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…” you began to sing softly. “If I didn’t care…would I feel this way?”

Every extended note was painful, but it was worth it to see his face relax.  

Stan Edgar’s lips pursed, and he set down his cell phone on his desk. Victoria was screening his calls.

Disappointing, he thought, but not unexpected. He surveyed the cleanup crew wiping up debris, glass, and blood from the lounge area with a dispassionate gaze. 

This was going to take a while.

So after drumming his fingers on the mahogany surface, Stan decided to push up from his desk and head downstairs via the elevator. It took him all the way down to Level 0, the home of one of Vought’s most secure R&D labs. 

There his most trusted scientist, Dr. Tonya Baker, was at the helm with her team at work on various projects. Most of which were not sanctioned by the government. 

Stan folded his hands behind his back and reached her side, and she set down a beaker filled with a green, buzzing liquid. 

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted. 

“Tonya, you know what I’m about to ask,” he said. She bobbed her head and turned to face him in her rolling desk chair. 

“We’re still working on solutions. Without his cooperation, safely extracting Soldier Boy’s DNA is a tricky thing,” she said. 

“You don’t say?” Stan said dryly. “What are our options?”

“Well, needles will only break, as you know,” said Dr. Baker. “The scientists in Russia found that only Soldier Boy is strong enough to break his own skin.”

“And I doubt he’ll open a vein for us,” Stan said, “even if we threaten to put him to sleep.” 

He didn’t even think leveraging with the girl would aid, more than complicate their goals. While it was something to consider, Stan would rather find the path of least resistance here. Soldier Boy was…volatile at best. 

“How much of Homelander’s blood remains?” he asked. 

“None,” the doctor replied. “We used the last of it to clone Black Noir. And a hair sample is not enough to create additional subjects…at the very least, a urine sample. Even Dr. Vogelbaum managed that.”

Stan sent her shrewd look. If only he still had Dr. Vogelbaum in his employ. If only the man were still alive.

What a waste of a talented, resourceful man.

“That will be a problem,” Stan said. 

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Baker adjusted a monitor screen at her desk. It displayed the feed from Soldier Boy’s cell. 

She pointed to the toilet in the corner of the cell. Then she called over one of her assistants.

“Tell Maintenance to cut the water, and then a section of the pipes.”

AN: Okay. 😅 I know I'm gonna get some mixed reviews on this one (Let me know what you thought!).

But despite the teaser, I think you'll enjoy where the story's headed next...

Next Time:

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted.

Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Don Moynihan at Can We Still Govern?:

When I teach my students about organizational culture, one of the things we talk about are artifacts: visual representations of norms and meaning. These could be art, posters, websites or office layouts. What is the organization telling you about what it is, what values it cares about? Sometimes, the answer reflects decades or even centuries of organic and incremental choices and compromises. And sometimes it reflects a stark decision to impose a certain narrative, to make certain histories, ideas or even people disappear. Right now, the federal government is engaged in a dramatic purging of visual representations of American history and its current workforce. Some of this is a Stalinist removal of former officials. The official portraits of Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Mark Milley, and Trump Secretary of Defense Mark Esper are gone. An NIH mural featuring Anthony Fauci was removed. More systematically, it is also the removal of women, persons of color, and trans people, following executive orders around DEI and gender. Here, the removals signal the end one form of representation that valued inclusiveness and a broader understanding and acknowledgment of people whose stories were not always told.

Trump is a TV guy obsessed with visuals — how many times has he described someone as “straight out of central casting”? — with a very clear vision of who is in the picture when it comes to American history. In the Pentagon, about 26,000 images have already been flagged for removal and could lead to up to 100,000 images being cut on military websites. Videos of the World War II Tuskegee airmen were removed from the Air Force. After public pushback, the Trump administration restored the content and complained about “malicious compliance” —but how exactly are bureaucrats supposed to know which images of non-white soldiers are acceptable, and which are DEI? [...] The removals of images mirror the removal of people, of course. In the military, the first Black Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, C.Q. Brown, and the first woman to lead the Navy, Lisa Franchetti, were removed without explanation. Now, with Franchetti gone, there is not a single female four-star general in the armed forces. Brown was replaced by a retired three star general with significantly less qualifications. Trans members of the military are likewise being removed, and intelligence officers have already been fired. I don’t want to downplay the importance of the removal of those people, but do think understanding how organizations normalize assumptions about who belongs, whose membership is to be celebrated, and who is to be removed matters. Trump is creating a visual backdrop to his project of erasure. [...] The rush to comply with government orders creates clumsiness and inconsistency. In some cases, gay people or women are being removed. In other spaces, they are maintained, but trans people are removed. Sometimes, the clumsiness is comical, or nonsensical. A Pentagon list of flagged images identified mentions of the Enola Gay, the bomber that dropped the atomic bomb. Because, gay. At the same time, a National Park website removed the representation of trans people’s role at the Stonewall uprising, praising it instead as a key moment for the “LGB” community. Here, gay is ok. But trans is out. LGB. The government redefines a movement in a way that is unrecognizable to those in it. The representation of women or LGBTQ people or Hispanics or Asian Americans or Black people mattered because their stories had historically not been featured. Erasing them is not a return to some bygone era of color-blind merit, but of blindness to the contribution of anyone who did not fit Trump’s whitewashed vision of America. The Trump presidency is, as much as anything, a project of purging and erasing large parts of America, of people, ideas, capacities, and knowledge. Trump has also pledged to remove the Institute of Museum and Library Services, which is an independent federal agency that supports libraries, archives and museums in America.

Another excellent column by Don Moynihan on the disgraceful whitewashing of American history as a result of Trump’s war on DEI.

[sunxxxie]

Looking for a Fic

You know that feeling when you find an absolute gem of a fic, so good that in your mind it's actual canon content...so good you have dreams about it and even after *years* it's ever-present at the back of your mind. But when you go looking for it, it's GONE?! Sending you spiraling for several weeks as you desperately scour the web for it. And after several weeks and cryptic dreams about the plot, you feel as if you might be slowly loosing it.

Well, that's my current situation. I'm getting desperate- so desperate that I'm on tumblr.com begging for help(not desperate enough to log into reddit tho). Please tell me I'm not crazy and I didn't dream up one of the best fics I've ever read.

The fic was a Lego Monkie Kid fic centered around Bai He (aka LBD's host) after the events of season three. Itwassowellwrittengodineeditnow.

From what I remember:

Shadowpeach was the main romantic(kinda) relationship mentioned although from the few chapters I read it focuses more on the platonic relationships at the beginning. Also PIF and DBK were briefly implied to be in a poly relationship with an original female character which was cool.

The description was something along the lines of: "Bai He is just trying to pick up the pieces of her life after the Lady Bone Demon is gone. Luckily, she has the help of MK and the others... something something- Wukong noticed the shadows of the male primate circling the island but never having the courage to come closer.." Or something like that.

Bai He my emotionally repressed princess/affectionate. You could tell the author wrote her character with a lot of love. She was an orphan who had been in the care of an orphanage in France(I believe) before she became a street kid in China. There was also this underlying subtext that her time spent in France was during the 90s(the lore bro, the *lore*). Bai He's disconnect between her ethnic background compared to the rest of the gang made her interactions with the main cast really unique.

Lady Bone Demon's relationship with Bai He was portrayed as almost like an abusive/manipulative parent that you can't seem to completely hate because they're your parent and they're doing what they think is the best for you. Chiefs kiss.

Any fic that mentions the nuances of LBD and MK's dynamic instead of watering down her character to that vile evil Witch who wanted to destroy the world>>>>>>

The subtle world building 🙇peak🙇. The story literally began outside the city where the residents were evacuated. This included the main gang who'd basically already taken Bai He in. There were passing mentions of other mythological pantheons. Plus references to the JTTW.(the author mentioned something about Wukong having descendants which was mind-boggling to me- ik it's inaccurate but whatever.)

Monkey King basically got custody of Bai He and he took her to Flower Fruit Mountain to watch over her condition.

The author detailed Bai He's struggles with her past and her present situation as she was no longer fully human.

Nahza(my goat) was there, living up to his role as protector of children.

The closest fic I've found is 'A Bone to Pick' by SmilesThroughFandoms but the vibe is off. It isn't the same.

It was incomplete with more than 20 000 words and posted somewhere between late 2022/23.(this was the general time frame I read the fic before loosing it. In my defense I (a) didn't have an ao3 account at the time and (b) I was reading it in incognito mode🤡)

If anyone has any information about it please please please please please tell me.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Halloween Honey [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@ancientsstudies) Center (@zendobx) Right (@iambrochella)

Prompt: Emily introduces the reader to the team at Derek’s townhome on Halloween night. After they get back to Emily’s apartment, they take their relationship to the next level. 

Pairing: Emily x female presenting reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Fluff/smut 

Word Count: 6.5K 

A/N: Content Warnings below the cut. This is an 18+ story. Minor’s DNI. Please respect that boundary. Good evening and Happy Halloween!!! I hope you are all having a fun and safe Halloween. This is the third installation of my informal Emily Prentiss x reader series. Parts I and II can be found (here) and (here).  I thought that it was about time that the reader got to know Emily’s friends, aka the BAU team. You could also read this as a stand-alone. The only background I think you need is that the reader is an intern for a senator. The title is based on Derek’s infamous line in the show. I hope you all like this and have a good night. If you do enjoy it, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love - Levi. 

P.S. The Latin is just a mistranslation of the rite of exorcism. It's Google translated, so it might be wrong.

Content Warnings: Sex (Emily and reader receiving [oral - Emily and fingering - reader]), the reader has some anxiety, a horror movie is watched/discussed (The Conjuring), brief mention of dead bodies, light drinking. If I missed any, please let me know. 

List with all stories

_y/n_ = you name 

_l/n_ = your last name 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite senator 

_f/j/t_ = your favorite jewel tone 

_y/f/s/t_ = your favorite shoe types - aka, heels, sneakers, creepers, loafers, etc. 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

Emily and _y/n_ were cruising down the road. A Florence + The Machine Spotify playlist was on shuffle playing from the stereo. It was quiet for a moment, and Emily briefly looked over and took her eyes off the road to look at her partner. _y/n_ was twisting one of the rings on her left hand, looking at her fingers with an apparent, deep interest. Prentiss focused on the road again and asked, “_y/n_, what’s on your mind? You seem a bit preoccupied.” _y/n_ flushed slightly. She looked at Emily, who was softly illuminated by the lights on the dashboard. When Emily told her more about the actual science behind profiling. She particularly stated, “It’s nothing like NCIS or CSI. Though the team's cases might look interesting and sound exciting, the real thing’s no fun at all. It’s just stress and dead bodies..” _y/n_ had nodded along. She understood where Emily was coming from. _y/n_ often got the same response when she told anyone that she worked in politics. Someone was always bound to say, “Oh, so like Parks and Rec?” with an uninformed laugh. She normally didn’t correct them. It wasn’t worth the work. Thinking back to the conversation with Emily, she had asked, “So, are microexpressions real? Can you tell if someone’s lying or not?” Prentiss had thought for a moment, and replied, “Well microexpressions are real, and there is a science behind it, but I think they're exaggerated in the media. Those expressions are just there on the face for a millisecond. Unless it’s on film, people can’t really see them. There’s only one person I know who might be able to use microexpressions as a defense.” This had piqued _y/n_’s interest, and she asked, “Who is it?” Em laughed and said, “Aaron, our Unit Chief.” _y/n_ nodded along. She was slowly getting to know more about the team. Their names, of course, and smaller things like the normal roles they took in cases, and their personalities. Emily had promised that _y/n_ would like JJ and Garcia, and she was looking forward to meeting them. Emily had promised _y/n_ early on in their relationship that she wouldn’t profile her. But it didn’t take a profiler for Em to tell that _y/n_ was anxious about something. Finally, _y.n_ replied, “What if they don’t like me? The team? They sound so smart and talented. And if they’re anything like you, well then that just confirms it. I’m just boring old me, ya know.” 

Emily briefly turned to look at _y/n_ and took her right hand off the steering wheel. Em placed it on _y/n_’s hands, stilling the nervous tick of twisting the rings on her fingers. When _y/n_’s hands were calm, Emily moved her hand to _y/n_’s shoulder. She quickly checked the road before returning her gaze to her partner. The slightly worried look painted _y/n_’s face in the way her brows were pressed together and the tension in her lips. Prentiss let out the smallest of breaths and replied, “_y/n_, you’re wonderful and beautiful, and kind, and you’ve been so good to me. You’ve been patient and loving, and you understand when I’m stressed and need space.” When Em was sure _y/n_ was listening, she focused on the road but continued speaking. She said, “The team is going to love you. Penelope and JJ have been dying to meet you, and I know that you and Spencer could probably write a dozen books together. Yes, the people on the team are smart, but you are wickedly intelligent about the law and handling people. Getting them to listen to you. This isn’t a contest; I want you to get to know the other people in my life.” At Emily’s encouraging words, _y/n_ relaxed. She felt better after being hyped up by Em. “Thanks, Em. I needed that.” Emily smiled and said, “Anytime, love.” Emily could feel _y/n_’s gaze on her. She could feel _y/n_ beaming at her, and she felt slow warmth pool in her stomach and drip downwards. _y/n_ was a very affectionate person. She loved physical touch. Emily was less so, but they had started a few routines that met both their needs for touch. They would hold hands under the table at dinner, and as they walked down the street from various cafes, art museums, and curio shops, Emily would snake her arm around _y/n_’s back, holding her waist securely. 

It was only a few minutes later that they arrived outside Derek’s townhouse. Emily recognized Garcia’s and Spencer’s cars parked right out front. Emily parallel parked, and once her keys were out of the ignition, she turned to look at _y/n_. _y/n_’s eyes were shining in the darkness, and Prentiss couldn’t stop the grin that she gave_y/n_ as she said, “Come here you.” They both leaned forward over the center console and kissed. As their lips met, their breath on the other’s face made them flush. Their lips were a bit tacky as Emily was wearing matte red lipstick and _y/n_ was wearing a glossy black lip. The kiss turned a bit more passionate, and Emily threaded her hands through _y/n_’s hair. _y/n_ similarly put her hands around Emily’s neck. When they pulled apart for breath, they both could feel the sexual tension in the cab of the car. Emily cleared her throat and asked, “You ready to go in there?” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I am, but maybe you should look at your mouth first?” Emily looked at _y/n_ quizically before _y/n_ turned on the lights in the car and pulled down the visor with the mirror. Emily flushed when she realized that some of _y/n_’s lipstick had transferred to her mouth. Emily spluttered slightly and fished around in her purse. She found some tissues and removed the transferred gloss. In doing so, she took off a good bit of her own makeup. Prentiss looked in her bag to reapply her lipstick. When she didn’t find the tube, she softly said, “Shit.” She had left it on her vanity. When Em looked up, _y/n_ was extending her black gloss. Emily looked apprehensive, and _y/n_ said, “I think it’s either this or you take off all the lipstick. You know you look great in black Em, I’m sure some black lipstick will look incredibly hot on you. Plus, we can kiss that way and none of your friends will know.” Prentiss flushed at the compliment and the idea of her kissing _y/n_. She took the offered makeup. Before she put it on, she said, “See I told you you were smart, _y/n_.” Em booped _y/n_’s nose with her finger before she turned to the mirror. 

The couple reached Derek’s door, and Emily knocked twice. After a moment Morgan’s strong build opened the glass door, and he gave one of his best smiles to Emily and _y/n_. Morgan extended a hand to _y/n_ and said, “Hey, _y/n_. I’m Derek, Morgan.” _y/n_ smiled back and said, “_y/n_, _l/n_. I’m so happy to meet you.” Derek extended a hand and _y/n_ took it. The shake was firm, steady. Em had described Derek as the protector of the team. Rash sometimes in his desire for his friends to be safe. As _y/n_ stood in front of the man now, she could see how that might be true. Morgan moved back a step and said, “Please come on in. The gang’s all here. As they stepped into the nice space, Morgan gave Emily a side hug and one of those smiles that said, “I like her already.” As they moved through the hallway toward the living area, Morgan pointed out the kitchen and the guest bathroom to _y/n_, stating, “Please make yourself at home. Drinks are in the kitchen and if you need anything, just let me know.” _y/n_ nodded and thanked him for his hospitality. Of course, Prentiss knew where all of these things were, but Morgan was particularly about meeting new people and showing off his space. When Derek had first invited her over for a friendly dinner, she felt a bit awkward, but once she had gone, Prentiss realized that her friend was a natural host. Gifted at making people comfortable in his home. Now, whenever Morgan was hosting, she attempted to make it. Emily was happy that this was where _y/n_ was going to meet the team. 

As the trio moved into the living room, everyone that was seated stood. Penelope was up first, bridging the gap between herself, Emily, and _y/n_. Garcia extended a hand and said, “Oh my gosh, hi. I’m so happy to meet you!” _y/n_ smiled and said, “It’s lovely to meet you too… Penelope?” Garcia did a little happy dance and said, “Yes! How did you know?” As soon as the woman, wearing bright neon colors, with blond hair in pigtails had approached _y/n_, she knew who she was. Instead of saying any of that, she said, “Oh, you know, just my telepathic abilities.” This response made Garcia so happy that instead of offering a handshake, she said, “I’m sorry, but can I hug you? I think you may be my favorite person to ever exist.” _y/n_ lending into Garcia’s open arms and relaxed at her touch. In Garcia’s arms, _y/n_ felt warm and safe, and she made the observation that Penelope smelled distinctly of bubble gum. When they parted, Garcia ushed _y/n_ toward the others. JJ and _y/n_ shook hands and had a brief introduction. JJ looked over _y/n_ quickly. The Media Liaison realized exactly what Emily was talking about with _y/n_ being not only beautiful but also fully present. When JJ looked at _y/n_ there was no distraction, no wavering energy; she was fully focused on what JJ was saying. As someone who interacted with loads of people on a daily basis, having someone so centered felt like a breath of fresh air. JJ said, “It’s nice to finally meet you _y/n_. I can’t believe it’s been almost three months since Em met you in that dressing room. _y/n_ flushed at being reminded of how Emily and her met. It was still one of her favorite memories. Sometimes she forgot that JJ had been on the other end of Emily’s phone call when she had complimented Emily. The last introduction with Spencer was calm. Reid extended his hand and introduced himself. _y/n_ thought that maybe he was a bit shy. _y/n_ hoped to see more of his personality, and his smarts eventually. With how much Prentiss lauded his brain, she was excited to see it in action for herself. Everyone found a spot in the living room. Derek and Garcia were on the couch with Emily and _y/n_. JJ found herself on the loveseat adjacent to the couch and glass coffee table. JJ patted the spot next to her, but Reid opted to sit on the rug by her feet instead. Derek said, “Reid, what are you doing?” Spencer looked over to Derek and said, “I don’t want to be on eye level with the screen. If I sit on the couch, I’ll be looking directly at the movie, and you know I don’t like the possession or doll stuff.” Derek chuckled and said, “Well, suit yourself pretty boy. Also, how can you do this job and be afraid of a ghost or some dolls?” Spencer reddened and made some small protestation while the team ribbed him gently. It was all in good fun. The team had voted on three possible films: The Exorcist, The Conjuring, and Brahm’s The Boy. As everyone debated which film to watch, Emily went and grabbed her and _y/n_ some drinks. 

The group had decided on The Conjuring, and once everyone was settled in with a drink, they started the film. The first time Annabell came on screen, everyone laughed. The film progressed, and the Perron family got more scared in their new home _y/n_ relaxed a little and settled closer to Emily. Just as Emily had assured her, the other members of her team were kind and normal people. They laughed at the family's silly responses to the strange phenomena happening on screen. Once they were playing the clapping game in the movie, Spencer said, “The mom shouldn’t be playing this upstairs. With the wrong footing, she could easily fall off the second floor to the first. Did you know that around 1,000 people die from falls on staircases each year, and over 3,456 of all ages and abilities are injured on them annually.” After Reid finished this commentary, Penelope said, “They should hire you as a consultant for whenever the studio makes another cheap sequel.” This got a chuckle from everyone. Once the spirit of Bathsheeba showed up for the first time on top of the girl’s wardrobe, everyone jumped and then Derek said, “Baby girl, I think you need some lotion and to up your skincare routine.” This got a big laugh out of everyone. During the third shot where the camera rotated 180 degrees, _y/n_ added to the conversation, asking, “I know about the Dutch angle and eye level shots and all that jazz, but is there a term for this? It’s starting to get boring as a visual device honestly.” There was a moment of silence as the question lingered, but Spencer quickly said, “Well, I’m not sure if it’s a technical film term, but maybe something like an inverse shot or a flipped angle or something? That might be apropos here.” As the scene got more tense, _y/n_ very quietly replied to Spencer, saying, “That sounds about right.” When everyone got ready for the climax, Emily gently squeezed _y/n_’s hand and gave her a soft kiss on the temple. She whispered, “See. I told you you and Reid would get along swimmingly.” _y/n_ hummed slightly, squeezing Emily’s hand back. The film wrapped up and everyone got up and stretched a bit. Penelope, _y/n_, and JJ took turns in the bathroom. When _y/n_ exited the facilities, she found Emily and Derek trying to comfort the tech whiz. Although Spencer had said he didn’t like films with possession as a theme, it seemed that Penelope was the most affected of all of them. Derek was trying to take the compassionate approach saying, “Sweetness, it’s all just made up. None of it’s really real. They exaggerated and added scary music so you’d feel scared.” _y/n_ stopped herself from commenting on the real Warren family and their troubled history as paranormal investigators. JJ chimed in, “At least the movie ended happily Pen. There was a real hope for that family. Love won. It can’t be that scary if love won.” This seemed to help Garcia a bit. _y/n_ moved into the kitchen and got another drink. As she walked to stand next to Emily, she gave Garcia a pat on the arm. Penelope looked at her and smiled, saying, “Thank you _y/n_.”

Thinking about the inaccuracies of the film, she said, “You know that exorcism scene always bothers me. I know secular shows aren’t concerned about the actual ritual of an exorcism, but still, you could at least get the Latin right.” This comment had the rest of the party looking at her. _y/n_ flushed, and said, “I might have considered a divinity degree before political science consumed my life.” Everyone chuckled and Reid said, “You’re right. Ed says “‘Verte malum de inimicis meis; in veritate tua disperde illos.Omnenus: Sponte sacrificabo tibi,’ where it should be...” Before Spence could answer, _y/n_ replied, “‘In veritate tua disperde illos. Omnes: Sponte sacrificabo tibi.’ It’s not like the church and other religions have been performing those types of rituals for centuries or anything.” As she said this, Reid gave her a genuine smile and nod of recognition. With the topic on the table, Reid started running with it and began to ramble about how the ritual of expelling alleged dark forces had changed over the years. _y/n_ leaned into Emily gently, as she listened with keen attention. Again Emily was right. Dr. Reid was brimming with knowledge. _y/n_ hadn’t expected her girlfriend to lie or exaggerate about her friends, but when she had heard all the descriptions of the members at first it felt a little too impossible to believe. Once Spencer had finished his ‘brief’ history of exorcisms, Derek turned to _y/n_ and Prentiss. He said, “Alright Emily, you still haven’t explained fully how you met _y/n_. And JJ and Garcia are still talking about that first date. Every time I bring it up you say that you’ll tell me soon -- and I think it’s time to pay up.” Emily chuckled and said alright. I’ll tell you.” Prentiss detailed her first meeting with _y/n_ and then described their first date. _y/n_ would chime in with certain funny or cute moments,  and Morgan was eating up the story. After another hour or so, everyone decided to start heading out. _y/n_ said goodbye to everyone, giving hugs or handshakes. As she approached Garcia, Penelope said, “I’d love to go shopping with you sometime. Your style is so cool!” _y/n_ flushed and said, “I pinky promise. I’ll text you, and we can set something up.” Penelope nodded enthusiastically. Derek walked the couple to the door, he gave _y/n_ a side hug and said, “If you ever need anything, you just let me know, alright.” _y/n_ nodded. His sincerity was touching. She thought back again to what Em had said about him being protective, and she fully saw it now. _y/n_ replied, “Thank you, Derek. Thank you for having me over. It was a really great night.” Morgan beamed and said, “Well then, I can’t wait to have you over again.” Derek and Emily said their goodbyes and “See you Monday’s.” 

In the car on the way back to Emily’s apartment _y/n_ said, “Em, they’re all so sweet. So kind. I’m so happy to have met them. And I’d like to meet Aaron and Rossi too if I can sometime.” Emily smiled and said, “I’m glad you like them, and you had a good time. And believe me, Dave asks about you constantly and Aaron has too. I’m sure you’ll meet them when there’s time.” The pair drive back toward Emily’s side of the city. As they moved down the road Emily considered how they had gotten closer over the few months they had known each other. Emily was protective of her past. She had to be with what she had gone through. Revealing too much could make _y/n_ an unintentional target. But _y/n_ had been so open, so gentle with her that she couldn’t help but open up to _y/n_’s warm care and affection. They had become more physical around each other too. They had slept in the same bed many times now. Their bodies pressed close. And on one of those evenings, Emily had moved her hand beneath _y/n_’s linen shirt and brushed her fingers over the buds of _y/n_’s breasts. While she had done this, _y/n_ had stroked over her clothed sex with two fingers. As much as Emily had wanted to take it farther that night, they had both been exhausted. Emily had just returned from a long case, and _y/n_ had had a long night in the office trying to proofread a 500-page long bill from _y/f/s_. The passion was there, but not the energy. Em had promised _y/n_ that she wanted this -- desperately, but that she wanted to give her her all for the first time. _y/n_ had agreed. They rode back toward her apartment, and Emily thought of that first brief intimacy. She began to pool with desire again. She wondered if this was going to be the night that they would reach that stage in their relationship. While Emily thought this, _y/n_ couldn’t tear her eyes off of her partner. _y/n_ tried not to sexualize Emily often. She was too dignified for her to be drooled over. But now and then, Emily would look at her a certain way, or say something so profound that _y/n_ wanted to kiss her all over. To kiss every part of her body. A specific region, flushed and pink came to mind, and _y/n_ had to stifle a needy sigh. _y/n_ had always found Emily attractive, and the night that they had been most close replayed in her mind often. The feeling of Em’s hands, tender yet firm, moving over and teasing her breasts left her breathless and wanting if she thought about it for too long. Now as _y/n_ looked at Em, was one of those times. _y/n_ begged anything out there in the cosmos that they could have that and more tonight. 

As Emily and _y/n_ got into Prentiss’s apartment. There was an anticipatory, hungry feel to the air. Emily turned on some lamps in the living room. She had asked _y/n_ if she wanted to spend the night, as they drove back and _y/n_ had readily agreed. As Prentiss turned to ask _y/n_ what she wanted to do; if she wanted a drink of water, or anything in particular, she was almost shocked at what she saw. The look of pure desire on _y/n_’s face. _y/n_ closed the gap between them and noticed how Em cocked her head to the side almost confused by her want of her. When _y/n_ was flush with Emily, she pressed herself close to her girlfriend. _y/n_ stroked her hands through Emily’s dark hair. After a few seconds of this, _y/n_’s right hand rested on the crown of Emily’s skull and gently guided Emily’s mouth to hers. Emily easily, amicably acquiesced; allowing herself to be guided to _y/n_’s full lips. As their mouths met, Emily felt that pool of desire begins to flow downward again. It took all of her concentration to not moan at the close contact with _y/n_. Prentiss didn’t want to sound needy yet, but she felt that way. She longed for _y/n_’s touch in places yet unexplored. When _y/n_ ran her tongue over Emily’s lower lip, asking for control, she didn’t want to stop _y/n_ from having that access. As Em let  _y/n_ into her mouth, there was a mutual understanding of comfort and dynamics. Neither one of them was acting as a dominant or male persona. They were both just seeking comfort and pleasure in the other. When both Emily and _y/n pulled back for air, there was a moment of silence, of stillness. After a beat, _y/n_ said, Em. I need you, all of you, tonight. If you’ll let me?” Prentiss nodded and breathily said, “Oh God, yes, _y/n_. I was afraid I was moving too fast, and to hear you say that makes me feel so desired. You wanna go the bedroom, Baby?” _y/n_ agreed in a high pitch. Em took _y/n_’s hand. They moved slowly to the mauve-colored room. As they walked, there was a longing that they both let linger. After tonight, they would be joined in a way that would change the dynamic of their relationship from here on out, and they wanted to give space to that fact. 

In the bedroom, with the white door closed, _y/n_ turned to Emily. She was wearing a charcoal grey blouse that buttoned up the front. There was a bow that was tied at the collar. _y/n_ started by gently tugging the bow undone. She settled the strips of fabric that formed the extra edition of the collar behind Emily’s neck. She then moved to the buttons of the shirt. Slowly, with care and precision, _y/n_ began undoing the buttons of the silk shirt. As each inch of skin was revealed, _y/n_ reveled in its exposure. There was a reverence in her gaze that Emily had rarely seen. When Emily had been intimate before, there was always a hunger in the look of her lovers, male and female. A desire for pleasure. This was all fine and good, but the awe on _y/n_’s face was new. There was also a hunger, but not like she was a thing to be had, sucked dry and then left in the cold morning air uncovered. Thinking of this had Emily let you a sigh of desire. Emily’s head was slightly tipped back, her mouth half open, taking needy breaths. Through her half-lidded gaze, she saw _y/n_ smile at her noises. Emily wondered what _y/n_ moaning sounded like, and her sex pulsated at the idea. Her arousal intensified. When the last button was undone, _y/n_ pushed the silk off Emily’s shoulders and to the floor. The fabric fell to the floor with little sound. _y/n_’s gazed over her form. The lovely planes of Emily’s skin shone in the light of the lamps illuminating the room. _y/n_’s warm hands slowly started moving over the exposed flesh. Circling Emily’s stomach. She felt up the side of her waist. _y/n_’s hands then moved higher, ghosting over Em’s covered breasts. _y/n_ noticed that the bra was slightly padded and the underwire looked uncomfortable pressed too tightly under the sensitive tissue. _y/n_ would be sure to address this soon. But for now, she moved her hands to Emily’s clavicle, running over her collarbones. _y/n_ noticed that Emily had some birthmarks adorning her skin. One was above her right breast, and the other two were on Emily’s torso. After spending a bit of time feeling over Em’s upper half, _y/n_ softly fell to her knees and began working at the button and zipper of Prentiss’s black slacks. Emily watched as _y/n_ pulled down the fabric of her pants and realized that _y/n_ was kneeling at her body like it was a temple, and Prentiss thought she couldn’t possibly be loved more than this. When her pants were pooled at her feet, Emily moved her right foot up, and _y/n_ pulled her foot free. The process was repeated with the left foot. 

At this point, Emily had to reciprocate. She helped _y/n_ her feet and said, “You are so good to me. You have no idea how good you make me feel.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I think I share in your feelings, but putting it to voice, especially now, feels a little difficult.” Em laughed softly at the comment, as her hands moved to the zipper at the back of _y/n_’s _f/j/t_ colored dress. The invisible zipper needed a bit of effort, and Emily carefully held the fabric at the top of the dress as she applied more pressure to get the zipper to move. The zipper was fine moving down the teeth until it got to the waistline, where the fabric was doubled. Here, even with her careful pulling the zipper didn’t seem to want to budge further, and it wasn’t because the dress didn’t fit _y/n_. It fit like a glove custom-made for her body. After another minute of struggle, _y/n_ burst out laughing and said, “Sorry. It’s so funny. I didn’t want to say anything because it was so sexy. You were taking my breath away, but as soon as you started doing that, I knew you were going to have trouble. You have to jimmy it a certain way to get it past the waistline.” Emily gave a little huff, and jokingly said, “Well you could have told me that before.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Well, I have a potential solution from here on out?” Emily smiled and replied, “Shoot.” _y/n_ leaned forward and said, “We can be nude every time we meet from here on out?” Emily flushed and teased back, “How do you think the senator would like that? How about my boss?” _y/n_ gave Emily a large grin, and she said, “They don’t have to know.” While _y/n_ said this, they moved their hands to their back and Emily gave her space to work the ornery zipper past the difficult spot on the track. Once it was past the waistline, _y/n_ let Emily take charge again, and she quieted to let the moment have its full impact. Prentiss appreciated this, as she moved the zipper down the final six inches of track. As _y/n_ had done with her shirt, Emily removed the fabric of the dress, and _y/n_ moved out of its constraint at her ankles. Emily had taken her heels off when she had gotten in the door, but _y/n_ still had hers on. Thus, Em paralleled _y/n_ and dropped to her knees, and helped remove _y/n_’s _y/f/s/t_ and socks. The last article of clothing that needed to be disposed of to make _y/n_ as bear as Em was _y/n_’s tights. Prentiss took care of removing this thin layer of nylon. Prentiss didn’t want her short nails to snag the cloth and tear it. Once the tights were disposed of, the profiler moved and kissed over _y/n_’s clothed vagina. At the intimate act, _y/n_’s breath hitched, and she said Emily’s name with a need not yet voiced. 

_y/n_ pulled Emily up and to the bed. Both moved to remove the other's bra and their hands were a tangled mess, as they tried to both do the same thing at the same time. Again there was a soft laughter between them. Emily said, “If this happened to anyone else _y/n_ I would be so mortified. I would have lost my chill the second the zipper snagged. But with you, with your patience and calm and understanding it doesn’t feel like a big thing. I can honestly laugh with you. It reminds me of our first meeting, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” _y/n_ beamed and said, “You’re someone I want to be real with Em. I want to laugh with you and cry with you, and God do I want to have sex with you.” Hearing this, Prentiss flushed and then both of them moved again as they clasped behind the other's back to undo the other’s bras. As both women disrobed and looked at the other, the feeling of deep longing washed over them. Emily whispered, “You’re so beautiful _y/n_. So beautiful.” She leaned forward and kissed over _y/n_’s breasts. The warm, wet feel of Emily’s mouth over her sensitive flesh caused her nipples to harden. Emily took one of the taught buds in her mouth. She sucked and swirled her tongue over the nipple. _y/n_ let out a sigh, and her own hands moved to Emily’s chest. _y/n_ began kneading Em’s breasts. Without her bra on, the tissue was just slightly less perky than when trapped in the confines of a bra. Em’s nipples hardened too, and _y/n_ used her fingers to pull and tug at the sensitive areas of her body. Emily had to move her mouth away from _y/n_’s breast, so she could let out a gasp of pleasure. Hearing this from Em, _y/n_ moved her hand lower and began rubbing two fingers over her clothed sex. Emily’s panties were wet, soaked through, but _y/n_ hadn’t had the chance to notice, as they were black; hiding the level of Emily’s arousal. _y/n_ said, “Let me get you out of those…” _y/n_ was going to say underwear, but noticed the small VS charm on a tiny silver charm sitting at the center of the delicate bow at the middle of the elastic holding the garment up. Emily chuckled and said, “Hey listen they're comfy and sexy. Two birds one stone?” _y/n_ grinned and said, “There’s no complaints from me love.” _y/n_ leaned down and kissed the second bow, realizing that Emily had had a bow at her neck and a bow down here. Knowing how detail-oriented Em was, it wasn’t by accident. 

Emily was about to ask if she could get _y/n_ off first, but _y/n_ stopped her by saying, “Em, please. You’re out there every day saving people who don’t even know it. Who will never understand the things you sacrificed for them? So please let me do this for you first. After that, you can fuck me into tomorrow, but I want to do this.” Emily swallowed and nodded. With her consent, _y/n_ removed Emily’s panties, sliding them off of her hips and down her legs. The underwear was discarded on the floor with their other clothes. _y/n_ looked at the flushed folds of Emily’s vagina and the small patch of dark pubic hair near her entrance. _y/n_ couldn’t wait to get her hands and face in that hair, that needy region. _y/n_ wanted to ensure Emily’s comfort and pleasure and asked, “Would you like oral, or my hand, or I can use a toy you like if you have one?” Emily took deep breaths and said, “I want your mouth. I want those pretty lips of yours on me; in me.” _y/n_ hummed. Both she and Emily had washed off their makeup, so _y/n_ was ready to dive in. _y/n_ got on her knees on the bed. She also pulled Em’s knees up to a ninety-degree angle and a good distance apart so there would be room for her face. Before she started, _y/n_ said, “Tell me if it’s not good. Tell me if you need to change techniques at any time. And, please put your hands in my hair if it is good. I’ve dreamed of that for that last month and to have it happen for real is making me so hot and bothered right now.” Emily nodded and said, “I promise to do those things if I need to. But most certainly the last will be happening.” With this said, _y/n_ moved down. The heat and moisture was alluring to _y/n_. She started by running her nose up the area and wetting it. After this, _y/n_ ran her tongue over Emily’s folds. The taste was slightly salty, but there was a slight aftertaste of talc or matcha — a drying earthy taste. _y/n_ kept moving her tongue this way, and the words and noises came unbridled from Emily. After a few moments of this, _y/n_ started to move her tongue in an infinity symbol moving from the entrance to the clit with each pass. While this was happening, Em moaned out _y/n_’s name. When _y/n_ started sucking on the clit, Emily knew she was racing toward a strong climax. At this point, she ran her hand through _y/n_ hair, pulling and tugging it gently from the follicle. Her grasp strengthened as the feelings got more intense. In the end, Prentiss was moving her hips to increase the friction, and in a moment of pure ecstasy, she felt her body clench and then let go. Emily cried out in pleasure and held _y/n_’s face where it was, pressed to her sex. _y/n_ slowed her tongue slightly, to let Em down gently. As the waves of heat and joy moved through her in long waves, Emily was sure this was the best orgasm she had ever felt. 

Once Em had calmed and found herself again, she moved with a passion, getting up and looking at _y/n_. Emily said, “My turn. Let me, ‘fuck you into tomorrow’ like you just did with me. So tell me, what gets my girl off? I’ve got toys like a vibe or a strapon. What do you want, Baby?” _y/n_ very quickly flushed and said, “I just want your hands in me. I’ve dreamed about that too.” Em replied, “Well, well, you shall have them. Now grab that pillow and lay down for me _y/n_. _y/n_ did as told, and Emily positioned the pillow at her partner's lower back and then pushed her back onto the mattress. Prentiss took off _y/n_’s _y/f/c_ bikini-style panties and discarded them at the foot of the bed. Emily kissed _y/n_ passionately, as she started to rub _y/n_’s exposed vagina. Emily could feel _y/n_ dripping against her fingers. Sliding her fingers up and down _y/n_’s labia and clit was so easy. After a few moments of this, and when her pointer and middle fingers were thoroughly coated, Em moved her fingers slowly into _y/n’s entrance. _y/n_ was tight against her hand. At this sensation, _y/n_ gave a needy whine and Prentiss asked, “Is that good for my love?” _y/n_ gasped and replied between breaths, saying, “So good. You feel so good in me.” Emily smiled and said, “Good. I’m glad.” Emily started pumping in and out of _y/n_ while her other hand moved to _y/n_’s left breast. As _y/n_ said her name and moaned against her touch. Emily moved the fingers that were inside _y/n_ to curve up so that she reached _y/n_’s g-spot and _y/n_ made a loud, desperate noise. Hearing this, Emily moved the hand that had been on _y/n_’s breast to _y/n_’s clit and rubbed fast circles over it. _y/n_ could feel herself about to snap as Em’s movements became more frantic. The dripping of pleasure from _y/n_ had moved from a drip to water to an ocean waiting to burst free of a dam. With one more thrust of the hand and movement over the clit, _y/n_ broke down entirely, as she lost control and shouted out in pleasure. _y/n_ had never been so vocal in her response. After a second, Emily removed her hands and moved to kiss _y/n_’s mouth, taking the breath from her partner again. Em rubbed her sticky hand over _y/n_’s thigh. As they both came to themselves a bit, _y/n_ said, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life Em. To have met you the way I did. I love you so very much.” Emily nodded and said, “Same here. You make me feel so happy, and so good and worthy.” There was a silence and Prentiss noticed that neither of their bodies were ramping down, and Em asked, “Would you be down for a second round, _y/n_?” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I was waiting for that profiler instinct in you to notice. How about we come together this time?” Em smiled and nodded. As both women got ready for another set of pleasure and release, they both knew that they were meant for the other both physically and in spirit -- and there would be many more nights like this, bleeding into tomorrows. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…

[leftistfeminista]

'I Won't Stop Until Israel Admits Its Ties With the Pinochet Regime'

Lily Traubman, who immigrated to Israel in the 1970s, hopes the documents she is trying to get from the Defense Ministry and the Foreign Ministry may even contain information on her father's killers.

A year ago there were headlines when four women filed a suit for sexual abuse they suffered in prison during the Pinochet period. They demanded that the abuse be recognized as a political crime and that their torturers be brought to trial. Were such attacks something that was directed from above?

Of course. Have you heard of “La Venda Sexy”? It was a detention center where people were tortured. The name actually means “Sexy Blindfold,” because the detainees’ eyes were covered the whole time and they were subjected to sexual abuse.

All the detainees were blindfolded the whole time?

Yes. They were arrested, blindfolded and put into a room, together, with their eyes covered. Then they were tortured. Most of the female detainees were raped and underwent sexual abuse. A girlfriend of mine was held there but was not raped. She told me she’d felt fortunate, but then came New Year’s and she was raped. They’d kept her for the holiday.

Venda Sexy was truly awful. They had dogs that were trained to rape women, and they would force spouses and family members to watch the rape. More and more testimonies about these abuses come out all the time.

And throughout this whole period, Israel, under prime ministers Yitzhak Rabin, Menachem Begin and Shimon Peres, maintained excellent relations with Chile. The two countries supported each other in the United Nations and signed bilateral agreements. Army Chief of Staff Mordechai Gur visited Chile in 1978, as did Deputy Prime Minister David Levy in 1982. Both met with Pinochet.

Pinochet was even invited to the synagogue in Santiago on Yom Kippur. Other presidents were not invited.

The documents declassified by the Americans also contain references to arms deals with Israel. Secretary of State George Shultz noted in a 1984 document that Britain, France, Israel and Germany were Chile’s arms suppliers.

All the weapons of the Chilean police and army were Israeli. In Chile I went around with a photograph of my brother in uniform. At checkpoints and in searches I would take out the picture and tell them that this was my brother, who was an officer in the IDF – even though he was a regular soldier – and that did the trick. The Chilean army greatly admired the Israeli army. When Pinochet wanted to visit Israel, he threatened that if he were not received here he would cancel a large arms deal. No dictator in the world, however bad he may be, can exist without international support. The dictatorship in Chile lasted as long as it did because there were countries that supported it, and Israel was one of them.

Israel describes itself as “the state of the Jewish people,” but there are about 20 missing Jews in Chile who were murdered during that period, while Israeli governments and the military maintained close ties with Chile, accorded it legitimization in international forums and provided aid and training to its military and intelligence units.

[eljeebee]

Content Warning: There are pictures in this update that I edited with motion blur that may cause motion sickness. Please proceed with caution.

Lavender!

Hm…

“Laaaaveeendeerrr! Wake up!”

Lavender groaned as she blinked awake. “Kashvi…?”

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Kashvi giggled.

“What time is it? It’s too early…”

“Sleeping in won’t do if you’re going to be with the Seekers for the duration of your pilgrimage! They’re quite strict with their schedule, so get up! Breakfast is ready!”

At the mention of the Seekers, the tendrils of sleep washed away. “I’ll get ready!”

“Good morning, Diego,” Lavender greeted Diego, the monastery dog. He let out a soft bark in reply. “Good morning, everyone.”

She received gentle good mornings from the monicus as she sat down amongst them.

“They’re waiting downstairs for you,” Lakandiwa said.

“Oh, uhm, they’re not going to join us for breakfast?” Lavender then, sputtered, “D-Do they even eat?!”

Everyone laughed. Lakandiwa said, “Of course they do, that’s why Lawa and I woke up early to make breakfast. They tend to get up early.”

“They said to fill you up,” Chief Song chuckled, “it seems like they’ll be giving you a hard day today, Ms. Lee.”

Lavender finished her breakfast. She went down to the prayer room and saw two figures meditating in front of the image of the Watcher. She hesitantly stood there.

“Come. Meditate with us,” a female voice said. Her voice was smooth and cool. It has a tad bit of sharpness to it.

Lavender sat behind her. She took notice of the other Seeker’s ear. Pointy. A vampire.

“…I’d guard the monastery with Diego. And Seeker Mata too…”

She tried not to think about what Kashvi said last night and joined them in meditation.  

“Lavender Lee,” the female Seeker regarded her. “I am Iris. The First Seeker.”

“My name is Mata,” the vampire Seeker said. “The Second Seeker. I could hear your thoughts earlier, Lavender. Yes, I’m a vampire. It’s a long and old story.” He gently smiled.

“You are summoned to train,” Iris said. “You are the second Pupil that we will train, and the Watcher deemed it that you are ready to receive the Gift she will bestow upon you – a portion of her power. There are no longer wars waging between Circle Mages and…other races…and you might be thinking that this is useless.”

“But this is a gift from the Goddess,” Mata continued, “It is not useless. You will be able to use it, no matter how small the actions are. This training is not just any training – it is also our observation whether your strength and your character passes our judgement. The Gift is too much to bear – your predecessor had become greedy and abused it.”

“You have shown us promising faith and goodness, and I trust you will not disappoint us. This pilgrimage will test you, whether you will stay as the Pupil or not.”

“What happens if you didn’t see me as…promising?” Lavender anxiously asked.

Iris replied, “That mark on your back will vanish, and you will no longer hear from us in your mind. Our connection will be severed.”

Mata sensed her anxiousness. His gentle voice soothed her. “But we believe in you, Lavender. You are a good child.”

Iris nodded. The corner of her lips curling up. “And you’re a spellcaster. You have a background with magic. Unlike your predecessor.”

Her first training was to spar with Iris. Lavender was surprised that the First Seeker is a spellcaster – no, a mage. She could see the difference between a spellcaster and a mage – Iris fought differently, her moves were precise and firm. To Lavender, it is a sign that the Seeker is battle-hardened.

Lavender stood no chance with this, she’s not as strong as the sages, especially since she was trained not for battles but only for decent defense and only for practice. She was never trained for fighting.

“You are not taking this seriously,” Iris clicked her tongue.

“But I am!” Lavender panted. “That’s what they taught me!”

“What the Sages taught you is not enough. You cannot use the Gift half-heartedly. It is good they taught you basic practices, but you need better offense and control. Again!”

Lavender doesn’t know the time now, but apparently, it’s lunch. Mata placed down a blanket and a basket of lunch that Lawa had prepared. Iris had finished already, so Lavender sat alone, eating her food. Not that she minded. She couldn’t really talk because she’s famished. It’s her third helping.

“I think you went hard on her,” Mata chuckled. “Were you that excited?”

“Who wouldn’t? It has been a while since I could spar with another mage,” Iris huffed, but she was smiling.

“But she’s a spellcaster, not a mage.”

“Same thing,” Iris looked at him. “The difference is that spellcasters limit themselves. They don’t want to follow the path the Circle Mages had gone.”

Mata hummed.

“You cast like a child!” Iris yelled.

Lavender let out a shout of frustration as she fought back, but before she could retaliate, the Seeker’s magic lifted her up in the air...

This will hurt like a bitch tomorrow...

“Oh, welcome home. I’ll fix something for you,” Kashvi smiled. “Crimson tea, Seeker Mata?”

“Yes please.”

Lavender floated on the bath pool. The warm water soothed her aching muscles. “My arms huuuuurrrttt! I feel so exhausted!”

Mata went in the pool. Lavender felt her body feeling warm. “Woah, what are you – ”

“Taking a bath,” Mata titled his head, confused. “This is a communal bath.”

She chuckled awkwardly. “Oh. Oh yeah. Hahaha. Yeah…”

Iris finally joined them. The Seekers stood on one side of the pool, quietly scrubbing their limbs. Lavender stood an arm’s length away from them.

“Uhm.”

They looked at her.

“Do you always bathe together?”

“Yes,” Mata said, still confused. “Why?”

Iris huffed. “Whatever you’re thinking, you must shed those thoughts. These thoughts will hinder your control with the Gift. This is a communal bath. Even the monici bathe together.”

Lavender pouted, “I know that…!”

She splashed Iris.

“You cast like a child, you act like a child,” Iris said, putting emphasis on every child she said. She splashed her back.

Mata laughed.

[freakyvinj3llyfish]

Asper "Stranger" Knight

< 1st main oc >

i couldn't resist anymore of posting her info grrr, her backstory it's something I'll post another day bc i didn't finished it ;v

General

Name: Asper Knight

Nicknames: Wasp (By her father), As (By Price), Sergeant Knight

Alias: (none)

Callsing: "Stranger", Sierra zero-five

Age: 27 (MW:2019) 30 (MW:2022)

DOB: 5th June, 1992

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Asexual

Nationality: American

Place of birth: [REDACTED]

Spoken Languages: American English (native language), Spain Spanish (Family purposes)

Rank: Master Sergeant

Occupation: retired US Army, American CIA (Central Intelligence Agency), formerly member of Armistice, member of Task force 141, working with SpecGru (also)

Role: EWSI and Combat Medic

Affiliations

TaskForce141

• Captain John Price

• Lieutenant Simon " Ghost " Riley

• Sergeant Kyle " Gaz " Garrick

• Sergeant John " Soap " MacTavish

• Sergeant Samantha "Butterfly" Wright ( @welldonekhushi )

Warrior Task Force ( @islandtarochips )

• First Sergeant Tiala "Malie" Toa

• Captain Kanoa Toa

• Sergeant Agnes "Blast" Falagi

• Sergeant Nigel "Squirrel" Harrinson

Los Vaqueros

• Rodolfo Parra

• Colonel Alejandro Vargas

CIA

• Station Chief Kate Laswell

Appearance

• Skin tone: Beige

• Hair type: Straight

• Hair colour: Naturally light blonde

• Eye colour: Crush green

• Height: 5'6ft (1.70m

• Weight: 119lbs

• Scars: Just some few and very big ones

• Body size: Medium

• Blood type: AB+

Skills

Main skills: Electronic Warfare & Signals Intelligence (EWSI), defense strategies that use technology to gather information and disrupt adversaries

Fighting style: She's the type of punching on weak places and twisting any part of the body, she's very fast with her movements

Weapon preferences / distinct : Remington 870 Tactical, CZ 750 sniper rifle. Black climbing picks, apparently always uses three, two on the belts and one on the back with a rope on it

Favourites

• Colour: Turquoise

• Animal: frilled neck lizard

• Food: None, she eats anything but red meat

• Drink: Monster

• Flower: Red spider lily

• Dyed hair: Yes, she died her hair completely, in a dragon style type

• Hairstyle: Mullet cut

Personality

Introvert: She doesn't like to be around with people very much, she prefers to be alone all the time. She's lightly scared of human kind

Flinching and fidgety: Asper flinches at the single movement of anything near her head or body, she's very conscious of being beaten up again and again and also in her childhood it terrifies her.

Careless of herself: She's always working, always hearing her rank and surname being shouted by the higher ranks, but no worries she eats properly

Scared state: Asper has a sensitive heart, everytime someone jumpscares her she can even faint or get into a frozen state with wide eyes and trembling, if she collapses it's because she's fine.

Hates humankind (misanthropy): I don't have to really explain this but she hates humand kind, she's scared of human kind and hates being around anyone

Random facts

• She deals with paranoid personality disorder (PPD), selective mutism and complex-post traumatic stress disorder.

• Poor woman has epistaxis (nosebleed hemorrhage), she constantly has nosebleeds once or twice at week

• A weird thing about her is that she doesn't like stitches, instead she likes to close her wounds with staples, like her mother usually did.

• Her throat is very sore every time it's almost like burned inside, she finds it hard to speak and swallow food, due to her CIPA she doesn't find it painfully

• Since her childhood, she's been with Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis (CIPA) wich means she can neither feel pain or regulate her body temperature or even sweat, that's why she almost doesn't notice she's wounded

• The way her calling developed was that she was always alone and didn't matter to anyone. Some people started asking if she worked there because she didn't even seem like one; she seemed more like a stranger, for that reason. And it's quite funny because if they called her "Strange," it would be quite confusing if someone said, "How strange that Strange is quite strange."

• She is losing or gaining weight, it's a in-between, she loses weight and at the next week she goes completely normal into her normal weight

• She doesn't eat meat because she's very disgusted of meat. Since she had to eat literally flesh in her teen age and now she doesn't like it

• Sometimes frog blinks for no reason

Negative Traits

• She's used to reject things or gifts of anybody

• Always saying sorry non stop whether she fails something

• Has a necessity to make everything good, she over thinks about things at the point she looks anxious and murmuring to herself

• She knows how to drive but her driving it's the combination of Price's and Ghost's driving

Backstory

coming soon..

—————

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Reckoner: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Thankfully, the team has the current case to keep them occupied so they don't think about you, but Spencer doesn't have that outlet. He's stuck in Penelope's office forced to think about you, what you might be going through, how you must be feeling, and how he can't do anything about it. He's bouncing his leg up and down rapidly because his anxiety is spiking. He would bite his nails if they hadn't already been bitten down to the nub.

"Spence, why don't you take a walk? I'm sure it'll do good to clear your head," Penelope suggests.

"No, thanks."

She sighs and turns back to the computer screens before calling Rossi. She's been working hard on her end to try and figure out who The Planner is.

"What do you have?" Rossi answers.

"I've concentrated on the last three cases because they left the freshest e-prints. However, over a hundred thousand cases pass through the Long Island Court."

"Who had eyes on the files?"

"Literally hundreds of people."

"Change track. Focus on The Enforcer. Look at mob-related murder trials on Long Island over the last ten years. We're looking for a hitman."

Penelope types quickly and comes up with a shorter list, albeit still long.

"There are over ninety-three mob trials in the last ten years."

"Put aside any trials that resulted in a conviction. Weed out mistrials and arraignments."

"Nineteen."

"Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen or enforcers?"

"Three, but I got something else here. Tony Mecacci's case was judged a mistrial but check out his suspected victim."

She sends over the file immediately so they can look it over. His victims are the same as the team's current victims. All were shot in the same style as the ones on the file.

".22 caliber, right?"

"Bulls-eye."

"Cross-match our profile of The Planner against all those connected with this trial."

Penelope continues to type as she speaks.

"Let's see here. We have prosecuting lawyer Garret Daniels, Judge Boyd Schuller, criminal defense lawyer Paul--"

"Wait, did you say Judge Shuller?" Rossi cuts her off.

"Yeah, I'm sending over a photo."

Rossi waits for the photo to come through so he can confirm whether or not he knows this person. He does.

"What's wrong?" Hotch asks. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I knew his wife. Two years ago, she was driving home from work and was killed by a drunk driver."

"That could be the tragedy."

"She was the love of his life, that's for sure."

Penelope digs into the Judge's life to see what kind of dirty secrets he has.

"Twelve months ago, Judge Shuller took a leave of absence due to health issues. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He has six months to live. That's when the killings started."

"You don't seriously think Judge--"

"Judge Schuller is the planner. Yes, I do," Rossi cuts off the detective. "It fits the profile, and Tony Mecacci is most likely Bosola the Enforcer. What have you got on Bosola?"

"He went off the grid after his last trial," Penelope answers.

"JJ put out a statewide APB and release Mecacci's photo to the media," Hotch orders, and she leaves to do it.

"Judge Schuller's a highly-respected man. We can't just walk in there and accuse him of serial murder."

"Then I'll go to the attorney general and petition the Chief Justice if I have to."

Rossi looks behind Hotch to see Judge Schuller walk right into the police station as if he knew the team was talking about him.

"Maybe not."

"I believe you're looking for me," the Judge says.

Judge Schuller is taken to an interrogation room to be questioned by Rossi and Derek.

"You know we have to advise you of your rights," Derek says and sits across from him.

"I waive my constitutional rights against self-incrimination."

"When you walked in here, you said, 'I believe you're looking for me'."

"Yes."

"Your timing was impeccable, but how could you know that?"

"I knew it wouldn't take you long to find me. Not after what I've left behind."

"So, you don't deny any of this?" Derek asks.

"Why would I? What you see as a crime, I see as justice."

"Ray Finnegan was a friend of mine," Rossi glares.

"Ray Finnegan was a criminal. You should choose your friends more wisely."

"It must have really thrown you when Ray showed up at Emma's funeral."

This pisses Judge Schuller off, and he slams his hands angrily onto the table.

"How do you know about my wife?"

"You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?"

Ray told Rossi that everyone only meets Bosola once. That means Judge Schuller had to have given Bosola a list of names. He would never have to meet him again, just to make final payments on proof of death which he can send electronically. If anyone can get into Schuller's personal files and financial record, it would be Penelope. She has to do it quickly before everything gets shut down.

Detective Gill made a call to Schuller's office a few hours ago and told them they had two suspects, which means he knows what the police know. Schuller knows the FBI is onto him, which means he didn't come here for a confession. He has a list, and there is more to come.

He came here to stall.

"Can we just get on with what I came here for?" Judge Schuller sighs.

"Why? So Bosola can go on and carry on whatever it is you asked him to do? No. You call him and you end this," Derek says.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"She was born Emma Louise Taylor on the 4th of July, 1958," Rossi reminisces.

"You could get that from anywhere," Schuller glares at Rossi.

"When she was six, her dad bought her a black and white homeless kitten."

"No, if she knew you, she would have told me."

"She named it Oscar," Rossi continues, "after Oscar Wilde. Out of all of Oscar's work, she loved an ideal husband the most."

The judge is getting angrier by the minute the longer Rossi talks about his wife.

"I don't know how you know all of this about Emma or what you hope to achieve, but we're done. You know the charges. Charge me."

"Is that what started all this insanity? Emma's death?"

"What started all of this was the thirty-five years I had to sit and watch as the system I swore an oath to protect failed the very people our justice system was meant to protect!"

"I wonder what Emma would make of all this."

"Every single person on that list deserves justice, and it's justice they managed to evade," Schuller shouts.

"So, you do have a list?" Rossi smirks.

"I'm finished talking."

Rossi and Derek continue to work over Judge Schuller while Emily is in another room talking to Penelope over video chat. Spencer isn't in the room because she managed to convince him to take a lap or two around the building to clear his head or try to.

"Hey, where's Spence? How is he doing?" Emily asks when she notices the lack of Spencer's presence.

"He's not doing too good. He doesn't have the hands-on work like you guys have to keep him distracted. It's killing him knowing Y/N's in jail for something she didn't do."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard on us, too. We don't talk about it but I know we're all thinking about it. Hotch will fix it once we're back, I know it."

"Yeah, me too."

"So, what did you find out about Judge Schuller?"

"We've got loads of two-way traffic going on, which means someone is trying to bounce us out."

"Okay, Bosola doesn't come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions."

"I've got wire transfers to a Cayman Island bank, and that's where the trace ends."

"How many and how much?"

"In June, he debits numerations of nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine dollars every few days four separate times. Then, he takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number. Anything less than ten thousand dollars keeps the IRS off your trail."

"So, the final payment must be for proof of death. That makes fifty-thousand dollars the price of a kill."

"He did that three times over a period of twelve months, but two days ago, he raised his account for a hundred thousand dollars all in one hit. He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victim's support group." Penelope gasps in shock and groans in frustration. "Someone who isn't suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out."

"Good job," Emily praises and hangs up. She returns to Hotch to tell him her findings. "If our calculations are correct, there are two more names on that list."

"There are."

Hotch replays the footage from the interrogation from when Emily was on the phone with Penelope.

"Every single person on that list deserves justice," Judge Schuller says and looks at his watch yet again.

"He said deserves, not deserved. Look right there. He looks at his watch for the second time. Whatever he's waiting for is about to happen."

"I don't think you knew Emma at all," Rossi continues to antagonize him. "At least not the one I knew. I made an excuse for myself that I wouldn't be welcome at her funeral. The truth is, I couldn't face it."

"You knowing Emma changes nothing."

"Oh, but it does. Emma changed the lives of everyone she knew, but at least Ray and I saw her death for what it truly was--a tragic accident."

"Dan Patton was drunk. He murdered Emma as surely as if he put a gun to her head!" Judge Schuller yells.

"Is that why his photo's not here? You're saving the best for last? How many other people have you targeted? I want the truth."

"I have nothing more to say."

"I do. I ran into Emma a few years ago at a hotel in Manhattan. I was working on a case and so was she. I knew she was married, but I didn't care."

Judge Schuller knows what Rossi is implying and he refuses to accept that his wife was cheating on him.

"No, she wouldn't... Emma would not do that to me. You're lying."

"Am I?"

"I want the truth."

"You first."

The Judge sighs knowing he's cornered and decides to give it up.

"Dan Patton is the last one. There are no more. Now, tell me the truth."

"That night in Manhattan, she told me our connection was so strong that it could never happen only once, and I was fine with that."

Rossi leaves with a smirk on his face, and the judge is shocked. He shakes his head and looks at Derek who is still seated.

"At least you now know what kind of man you're working with."

"What kind of man are you?"

"I've had enough of seeing the guilty walk free of their sins."

"What about your sins?"

"I got cancer for mine."

Emily, Hotch, and Detective Gil went to Dan's apartment after checking the police department he works for. Turns out Bosola got to him before the FBI could. They found him with two bullet holes, one in the heart and one in the head, but also beaten to death. Bosola is nowhere to be found because he killed him and left immediately after like a professional hitman.

There's no way Bosola is getting off Long Island since the FBI has all ports, roads, and airports guarded to make sure he doesn't get away. Judge Schuller is being moved somewhere safer because he is a high-court judge, which makes this a federal case now. The FBI is taking over this one before more people get killed. If Dan is dead, then the judge's list is complete.

However, something isn't adding up.

The Judge gave away his entire estate and all his money, and he closed out his accounts and paid off his utility bills. He has cancer but he has six months left to live. Why would he pay off his bills now and give away everything he owns? Not to mention the one hundred thousand dollar payment for not one but two more kills. If Dan was killed, then there should be one more.

Usually, the judge waits for confirmation of death before sending the payment, but he knew he wasn't going to be around to see this last proof of death. He sent everything over because he was not making it ten feet out of the police station.

Bosola has one more kill to make before moving on to another client, and it's Judge Schuller himself. With a crowd of reporters and a bunch of bystanders, it's easy for him to blend into the crowd. He managed to shoot Schuller in the heart and escape without anyone seeing him.

Case closed. With that major distraction out of the way, everyone is now focused on you and your situation. No one has said a word or talked about it since Hotch arrived in Long Island, but he's been making calls since getting on the plane to figure out what he can do to help you out.

The first person to get back to him is the lawyer that your dad snagged for you. He got ahold of his contact information and asked nicely to be let into the loop since he is your boss.

"Steven? Did you hear anything?" Everyone knows what Hotch is talking about so they stop what they're doing and listen to his side of the conversation. Hotch looks visibly upset which isn't a good sign. "Are you sure? ... There's nothing you can do for her? ... What about bail? ... Is there anything I can do? ... Okay. I appreciate you calling me. Thanks."

"What did he say?" Derek is the first to ask.

Hotch looks down and tries to keep the anger and frustration off his face as much as he can. When he feels he's neutral, he looks up and addresses the team.

"Y/N is being transferred to Virginia Correctional Center for Women in Goochland awaiting trial and bail. He said they have everything they need to convict her, and it's not looking good. Whoever did this really wants her to suffer for it."

Everyone is sent into silence because no one can believe this.

"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice." - Abraham Lincoln

x

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[democracyunderground]

"In April 2020, Vanessa Guillén, a 20-year-old Army private, was bludgeoned to death by a fellow soldier at Fort Hood, in Texas. The killer, aided by his girlfriend, burned Guillén’s body. Guillén’s remains were discovered two months later, buried in a riverbank near the base, after a massive search.

Guillén, the daughter of Mexican immigrants, grew up in Houston, and her murder sparked outrage across Texas and beyond. Fort Hood had become known as a particularly perilous assignment for female soldiers, and members of Congress took up the cause of reform. Shortly after her remains were discovered, President Donald Trump himself invited the Guillén family to the White House. With Guillén’s mother seated beside him, Trump spent 25 minutes with the family as television cameras recorded the scene.

In the meeting, Trump maintained a dignified posture and expressed sympathy to Guillén’s mother. “I saw what happened to your daughter Vanessa, who was a spectacular person, and respected and loved by everybody, including in the military,” Trump said. Later in the conversation, he made a promise: “If I can help you out with the funeral, I’ll help—I’ll help you with that,” he said. “I’ll help you out. Financially, I’ll help you.”

Natalie Khawam, the family’s attorney, responded, “I think the military will be paying—taking care of it.” Trump replied, “Good. They’ll do a military. That’s good. If you need help, I’ll help you out.” Later, a reporter covering the meeting asked Trump, “Have you offered to do that for other families before?” Trump responded, “I have. I have. Personally. I have to do it personally. I can’t do it through government.” The reporter then asked: “So you’ve written checks to help for other families before this?” Trump turned to the family, still present, and said, “I have, I have, because some families need help … Maybe you don’t need help, from a financial standpoint. I have no idea what—I just think it’s a horrific thing that happened. And if you did need help, I’m going to—I’ll be there to help you.”

A public memorial service was held in Houston two weeks after the White House meeting. It was followed by a private funeral and burial in a local cemetery, attended by, among others, the mayor of Houston and the city’s police chief. Highways were shut down, and mourners lined the streets.

Five months later, the secretary of the Army, Ryan McCarthy, announced the results of an investigation. McCarthy cited numerous “leadership failures” at Fort Hood and relieved or suspended several officers, including the base’s commanding general. In a press conference, McCarthy said that the murder “shocked our conscience” and “forced us to take a critical look at our systems, our policies, and ourselves.”

According to a person close to Trump at the time, the president was agitated by McCarthy’s comments and raised questions about the severity of the punishments dispensed to senior officers and noncommissioned officers.

In an Oval Office meeting on December 4, 2020, officials gathered to discuss a separate national-security issue. Toward the end of the discussion, Trump asked for an update on the McCarthy investigation. Christopher Miller, the acting secretary of defense (Trump had fired his predecessor, Mark Esper, three weeks earlier, writing in a tweet, “Mark Esper has been terminated”), was in attendance, along with Miller’s chief of staff, Kash Patel. At a certain point, according to two people present at the meeting, Trump asked, “Did they bill us for the funeral? What did it cost?”

According to attendees, and to contemporaneous notes of the meeting taken by a participant, an aide answered: Yes, we received a bill; the funeral cost $60,000.

Trump became angry. “It doesn’t cost 60,000 bucks to bury a fucking Mexican!” He turned to his chief of staff, Mark Meadows, and issued an order: “Don’t pay it!” Later that day, he was still agitated. “Can you believe it?” he said, according to a witness. “Fucking people, trying to rip me off.”

Khawam, the family attorney, told me she sent the bill to the White House, but no money was ever received by the family from Trump. Some of the costs, Khawam said, were covered by the Army (which offered, she said, to allow Guillén to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery) and some were covered by donations. Ultimately, Guillén was buried in Houston.

Shortly after I emailed a series of questions to a Trump spokesperson, Alex Pfeiffer, I received an email from Khawam, who asked me to publish a statement from Mayra Guillén, Vanessa’s sister. Pfeiffer then emailed me the same statement. “I am beyond grateful for all the support President Donald Trump showed our family during a trying time,” the statement reads. “I witnessed firsthand how President Trump honors our nation’s heroes’ service. We are grateful for everything he has done and continues to do to support our troops.”

Pfeiffer told me that he did not write that statement, and emailed me a series of denials. Regarding Trump’s “fucking Mexican” comment, Pfeiffer wrote: “President Donald Trump never said that. This is an outrageous lie from The Atlantic two weeks before the election.” He provided statements from Patel and a spokesman for Meadows, who denied having heard Trump make the statement. Via Pfeiffer, Meadows’s spokesman also denied that Trump had ordered Meadows not to pay for the funeral.

The statement from Patel that Pfeiffer sent me said: “As someone who was present in the room with President Trump, he strongly urged that Spc. Vanessa Guillen’s grieving family should not have to bear the cost of any funeral arrangements, even offering to personally pay himself in order to honor her life and sacrifice. In addition, President Trump was able to have the Department of Defense designate her death as occurring ‘in the line of duty,’ which gave her full military honors and provided her family access to benefits, services, and complete financial assistance.”

The personal qualities displayed by Trump in his reaction to the cost of the Guillén funeral—contempt, rage, parsimony, racism—hardly surprised his inner circle. Trump has frequently voiced his disdain for those who serve in the military and for their devotion to duty, honor, and sacrifice. Former generals who have worked for Trump say that the sole military virtue he prizes is obedience. As his presidency drew to a close, and in the years since, he has become more and more interested in the advantages of dictatorship, and the absolute control over the military that he believes it would deliver. “I need the kind of generals that Hitler had,” Trump said in a private conversation in the White House, according to two people who heard him say this. “People who were totally loyal to him, that follow orders.” (“This is absolutely false,” Pfeiffer wrote in an email. “President Trump never said this.”)

A desire to force U.S. military leaders to be obedient to him and not the Constitution is one of the constant themes of Trump’s military-related discourse. Former officials have also cited other recurring themes: his denigration of military service, his ignorance of the provisions of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, his admiration for brutality and anti-democratic norms of behavior, and his contempt for wounded veterans and for soldiers who fell in battle.

Retired General Barry McCaffrey, a decorated Vietnam veteran, told me that Trump does not comprehend such traditional military virtues as honor and self-sacrifice. “The military is a foreign country to him. He doesn’t understand the customs or codes,” McCaffrey said. “It doesn’t penetrate. It starts with the fact that he thinks it’s foolish to do anything that doesn’t directly benefit himself.”

I’ve been interested in Trump’s understanding of military affairs for nearly a decade. At first, it was cognitive dissonance that drew me to the subject—according to my previous understanding of American political physics, Trump’s disparagement of the military, and in particular his obsessive criticism of the war record of the late Senator John McCain, should have profoundly alienated Republican voters, if not Americans generally. And in part my interest grew from the absolute novelty of Trump’s thinking. This country had never seen, to the best of my knowledge, a national political figure who insulted veterans, wounded warriors, and the fallen with metronomic regularity.

Today—two weeks before an election that could see Trump return to the White House—I’m most interested in his evident desire to wield military power, and power over the military, in the manner of Hitler and other dictators.

Trump’s singularly corrosive approach to military tradition was in evidence as recently as August, when he described the Medal of Honor, the nation’s top award for heroism and selflessness in combat, as inferior to the Medal of Freedom, which is awarded to civilians for career achievement. During a campaign speech, he described Medal of Honor recipients as “either in very bad shape because they’ve been hit so many times by bullets or they’re dead,” prompting the Veterans of Foreign Wars to issue a condemnation: “These asinine comments not only diminish the significance of our nation’s highest award for valor, but also crassly characterizes the sacrifices of those who have risked their lives above and beyond the call of duty.” Later in August, Trump caused controversy by violating federal regulations prohibiting the politicization of military cemeteries, after a campaign visit to Arlington in which he gave a smiling thumbs-up while standing behind gravestones of fallen American soldiers.

His Medal of Honor comments are of a piece with his expressed desire to receive a Purple Heart without being wounded. He has also equated business success to battlefield heroism. In the summer of 2016, Khizr Khan, the father of a 27-year-old Army captain who had been killed in Iraq, told the Democratic National Convention that Trump has “sacrificed nothing.” In response, Trump disparaged the Khan family and said, “I think I’ve made a lot of sacrifices. I work very, very hard. I’ve created thousands and thousands of jobs, tens of thousands of jobs, built great structures.”

One former Trump-administration Cabinet secretary told me of a conversation he’d had with Trump during his time in office about the Vietnam War. Trump famously escaped the draft by claiming that his feet were afflicted with bone spurs. (“I had a doctor that gave me a letter—a very strong letter on the heels,” Trump told The New York Times in 2016.) Once, when the subject of aging Vietnam veterans came up in conversation, Trump offered this observation to the Cabinet official: “Vietnam would have been a waste of time for me. Only suckers went to Vietnam.”

In 1997, Trump told the radio host Howard Stern that avoiding sexually transmitted diseases was “my personal Vietnam. I feel like a great and very brave soldier.” This was not the only time Trump has compared his sexual exploits and political challenges to military service. Last year, at a speech before a group of New York Republicans, while discussing the fallout from the release of the Access Hollywood tape, he said, “I went onto that (debate) stage just a few days later and a general, who’s a fantastic general, actually said to me, ‘Sir, I’ve been on the battlefield. Men have gone down on my left and on my right. I stood on hills where soldiers were killed. But I believe the bravest thing I’ve ever seen was the night you went onto that stage with Hillary Clinton after what happened.’” I asked Trump-campaign officials to provide the name of the general who allegedly said this. Pfeiffer, the campaign spokesman, said, “This is a true story and there is no good reason to give the name of an honorable man to The Atlantic so you can smear him.”

In their book, The Divider: Trump in the White House, Peter Baker and Susan Glasser reported that Trump asked John Kelly, his chief of staff at the time, “Why can’t you be like the German generals?” Trump, at various points, had grown frustrated with military officials he deemed disloyal and disobedient. (Throughout the course of his presidency, Trump referred to flag officers as “my generals.”) According to Baker and Glasser, Kelly explained to Trump that German generals “tried to kill Hitler three times and almost pulled it off.” This correction did not move Trump to reconsider his view: “No, no, no, they were totally loyal to him,” the president responded.

This week, I asked Kelly about their exchange. He told me that when Trump raised the subject of “German generals,” Kelly responded by asking, “‘Do you mean Bismarck’s generals?’” He went on: “I mean, I knew he didn’t know who Bismarck was, or about the Franco-Prussian War. I said, ‘Do you mean the kaiser’s generals? Surely you can’t mean Hitler’s generals? And he said, ‘Yeah, yeah, Hitler’s generals.’ I explained to him that Rommel had to commit suicide after taking part in a plot against Hitler.” Kelly told me Trump was not acquainted with Rommel.

Baker and Glasser also reported that Mark Milley, the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, feared that Trump’s “‘Hitler-like’ embrace of the big lie about the election would prompt the president to seek out a ‘Reichstag moment.’”

Kelly—a retired Marine general who, as a young man, had volunteered to serve in Vietnam despite actually suffering from bone spurs—said in an interview for the CNN reporter Jim Sciutto’s book, The Return of Great Powers, that Trump praised aspects of Hitler’s leadership. “He said, ‘Well, but Hitler did some good things,’” Kelly recalled. “I said, ‘Well, what?’ And he said, ‘Well, (Hitler) rebuilt the economy.’ But what did he do with that rebuilt economy? He turned it against his own people and against the world.” Kelly admonished Trump: “I said, ‘Sir, you can never say anything good about the guy. Nothing.’”

This wasn’t the only time Kelly felt compelled to instruct Trump on military history. In 2018, Trump asked Kelly to explain who “the good guys” were in World War I. Kelly responded by explaining a simple rule: Presidents should, as a matter of politics and policy, remember that the “good guys” in any given conflict are the countries allied with the United States. Despite Trump’s lack of historical knowledge, he has been on record as saying that he knew more than his generals about warfare. He told 60 Minutes in 2018 that he knew more about NATO than James Mattis, his secretary of defense at the time, a retired four-star Marine general who had served as a NATO official. Trump also said, on a separate occasion, that it was he, not Mattis, who had “captured” the Islamic State.

As president, Trump evinced extreme sensitivity to criticism from retired flag officers; at one point, he proposed calling back to active duty Admiral William McRaven and General Stanley McChrystal, two highly regarded Special Operations leaders who had become critical of Trump, so that they could be court-martialed. Esper, who was the defense secretary at the time, wrote in his memoir that he and Milley talked Trump out of the plan. (Asked about criticism from McRaven, who oversaw the raid that killed Osama bin Laden, Trump responded by calling him a “Hillary Clinton backer and an Obama backer” and said, “Wouldn’t it have been nice if we got Osama bin Laden a lot sooner than that?”)

Trump has responded incredulously when told that American military personnel swear an oath to the Constitution, not to the president. According to the New York Times reporter Michael S. Schmidt’s recent book, Donald Trump v. the United States, Trump asked Kelly, “Do you really believe you’re not loyal to me?” Kelly answered, “I’m certainly part of the administration, but my ultimate loyalty is to the rule of law.” Trump also publicly floated the idea of “termination of all rules, regulations, and articles, even those found in the Constitution,” as part of the effort to overturn the 2020 presidential election and keep himself in power.

On separate occasions in 2020, Trump held private conversations in the White House with national-security officials about the George Floyd protests. “The Chinese generals would know what to do,” he said, according to former officials who described the conversations to me, referring to the leaders of the People’s Liberation Army, which carried out the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989. (Pfeiffer denied that Trump said this.) Trump’s desire to deploy U.S. troops against American citizens is well documented. During the nerve-racking period of social unrest following Floyd’s death, Trump asked Milley and Esper, a West Point graduate and former infantry officer, if the Army could shoot protesters. “Trump seemed unable to think straight and calmly,” Esper wrote in his memoir. “The protests and violence had him so enraged that he was willing to send in active-duty forces to put down the protesters. Worse yet, he suggested we shoot them. I wondered about his sense of history, of propriety, and of his oath to the Constitution.” Esper told National Public Radio in 2022, “We reached that point in the conversation where he looked frankly at General Milley, and said, ‘Can’t you just shoot them, just shoot them in the legs or something?’” When defense officials argued against Trump’s desire, the president screamed, according to witnesses, “You are all fucking losers!”

Trump has often expressed his esteem for the type of power wielded by such autocrats as the Chinese leader Xi Jinping; his admiration, even jealousy, of Vladimir Putin is well known. In recent days, he has signaled that, should he win reelection in November, he would like to govern in the manner of these dictators—he has said explicitly that he would like to be a dictator for a day on his first day back in the White House—and he has threatened to, among other things, unleash the military on “radical-left lunatics.” (One of his four former national security advisers, John Bolton, wrote in his memoir, “It is a close contest between Putin and Xi Jinping who would be happiest to see Trump back in office.”)

Military leaders have condemned Trump for possessing autocratic tendencies. At his retirement ceremony last year, Milley said, “We don’t take an oath to a king, or a queen, or to a tyrant or dictator, and we don’t take an oath to a wannabe dictator … We take an oath to the Constitution, and we take an oath to the idea that is America, and we’re willing to die to protect it.” Over the past several years, Milley has privately told several interlocutors that he believed Trump to be a fascist. Many other leaders have also been shocked by Trump’s desire for revenge against his domestic critics. At the height of the Floyd protests, Mattis wrote, “When I joined the military, some 50 years ago, I swore an oath to support and defend the Constitution. Never did I dream that troops taking that same oath would be ordered under any circumstance to violate the Constitutional rights of their fellow citizens.”

Trump’s frustration with American military leaders led him to disparage them regularly. In their book A Very Stable Genius, Carol Leonnig and Philip Rucker, both of The Washington Post, reported that in 2017, during a meeting at the Pentagon, Trump screamed at a group of generals: “I wouldn’t go to war with you people. You’re a bunch of dopes and babies.” And in his book Rage, Bob Woodward reported that Trump complained that “my fucking generals are a bunch of pussies. They care more about their alliances than they do about trade deals.”

Trump’s disdain for American military officers is motivated in part by their willingness to accept low salaries. Once, after a White House briefing given by the then-chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Joseph Dunford, Trump said to aides, “That guy is smart. Why did he join the military?” (On another occasion, John Kelly asked Trump to guess Dunford’s annual salary. The president’s answer: $5 million. Dunford’s actual salary was less than $200,000.)

Trump has often expressed his love for the trappings of martial power, demanding of his aides that they stage the sort of armor-heavy parades foreign to American tradition. Civilian aides and generals alike pushed back. In one instance, Air Force General Paul Selva, who was then serving as vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, told the president that he had been partially raised in Portugal, which, he explained, “was a dictatorship—and parades were about showing the people who had the guns. In America, we don’t do that. It’s not who we are.”

For Republicans in 2012, it was John McCain who served as a model of “who we are.” But by 2015, the party had shifted. In July of that year, Trump, then one of several candidates for the Republican presidential nomination, made a statement that should have ended his campaign. At a forum for Christian conservatives in Iowa, Trump said of McCain, “He’s not a war hero. He is a war hero because he was captured. I like people who weren’t captured.”

It was an astonishing statement, and an introduction to the wider public of Trump’s uniquely corrosive view of McCain, and of his aberrant understanding of the nature of American military heroism. This wasn’t the first time Trump had insulted McCain’s war record. As early as 1999, he was insulting McCain. In an interview with Dan Rather that year, Trump asked, “Does being captured make you a hero? I don’t know. I’m not sure.” (A brief primer: McCain, who had flown 22 combat missions before being shot down over Hanoi, was tortured almost continuously by his Communist captors, and turned down repeated offers to be released early, insisting that prisoners be released in the order that they’d been captured. McCain suffered physically from his injuries until his death, in 2018.) McCain partisans believe, with justification, that Trump’s loathing was prompted in part by McCain’s ability to see through Trump. “John didn’t respect him, and Trump knew that,” Mark Salter, McCain’s longtime aide and co-author, told me. “John McCain had a code. Trump only has grievances and impulses and appetites. In the deep recesses of his man-child soul, he knew that McCain and his achievements made him look like a mutt.”

Trump, those who have worked for him say, is unable to understand the military norm that one does not leave fellow soldiers behind on the battlefield. As president, Trump told senior advisers that he didn’t understand why the U.S. government placed such value on finding soldiers missing in action. To him, they could be left behind, because they had performed poorly by getting captured.

My reporting during Trump’s term in office led me to publish on this site, in September 2020, an article about Trump’s attitudes toward McCain and other veterans, and his views about the ideal of national service itself. The story was based on interviews with multiple sources who had firsthand exposure to Trump and his views. In that piece, I detailed numerous instances of Trump insulting soldiers, flag officers and veterans alike. I wrote extensively about Trump’s reaction to McCain’s death in August 2018: The president told aides, “We’re not going to support that loser’s funeral,” and he was infuriated when he saw flags at the White House lowered to half-mast. “What the fuck are we doing that for? Guy was a fucking loser,” he said angrily. Only when Kelly told Trump that he would get “killed in the press” for showing such disrespect did the president relent. In the article, I also reported that Trump had disparaged President George H. W. Bush, a World War II naval aviator, for getting shot down by the Japanese. Two witnesses told me that Trump said, “I don’t get it. Getting shot down makes you a loser.” (Bush ultimately evaded capture, but eight other fliers were caught and executed by the Japanese).

The next year, White House officials demanded that the Navy keep the U.S.S. John S. McCain, which was named for McCain’s father and grandfather—both esteemed admirals—out of Trump’s sight during a visit to Japan. The Navy did not comply.

Trump’s preoccupation with McCain has not abated. In January, Trump condemned McCain—six years after his death—for having supported President Barack Obama’s health-care plan. “We’re going to fight for much better health care than Obamacare,” Trump told an Iowa crowd. “Obamacare is a catastrophe. Nobody talks about it. You know, without John McCain, we would have had it done. John McCain for some reason couldn’t get his arm up that day. Remember?” This was, it appears, a malicious reference to McCain’s wartime injuries—including injuries suffered during torture—which limited his upper-body mobility.

I’ve also previously reported on Trump’s 2017 Memorial Day visit to Arlington National Cemetery. Kelly, who was then the secretary of homeland security, accompanied him. The two men visited Section 60, the 14-acre section that is the burial ground for those killed in America’s most recent wars (and the site of Trump’s Arlington controversy earlier this year). Kelly’s son Robert, a Marine officer killed in 2010 in Afghanistan, is buried in Section 60. Trump, while standing by Robert Kelly’s grave, turned to his father and said, “I don’t get it. What was in it for them?” At first, Kelly believed that Trump was making a reference to the selflessness of America’s all-volunteer force. But later he came to realize that Trump simply does not understand nontransactional life choices. I quoted one of Kelly’s friends, a fellow retired four-star general, who said of Trump, “He can’t fathom the idea of doing something for someone other than himself. He just thinks that anyone who does anything when there’s no direct personal gain to be had is a sucker.” At moments when Kelly was feeling particularly frustrated by Trump, he would leave the White House and cross the Potomac to visit his son’s grave, in part to remind himself about the nature of full-measure sacrifice.

Last year Kelly told me, in reference to Mark Milley’s 44 years in uniform, “The president couldn’t fathom people who served their nation honorably.”

The specific incident I reported in the 2020 article that gained the most attention also provided the story with its headline—“Trump: Americans Who Died in War Are ‘Losers’ and ‘Suckers.’” The story concerned a visit Trump made to France in 2018, during which the president called Americans buried in a World War I cemetery “losers.” He said, in the presence of aides, “Why should I go to that cemetery? It’s filled with losers.” At another moment during this trip, he referred to the more than 1,800 Marines who had lost their lives at Belleau Wood as “suckers” for dying for their country.

Trump had already been scheduled to visit one cemetery, and he did not understand why his team was scheduling a second cemetery visit, especially considering that the rain would be hard on his hair. “Why two cemeteries?” Trump asked. “What the fuck?” Kelly subsequently canceled the second visit, and attended a ceremony there himself with General Dunford and their wives.

The article sparked great controversy, and provoked an irate reaction from the Trump administration, and from Trump himself. In tweets, statements, and press conferences in the days, weeks, and years that followed, Trump labeled The Atlantic a “second-rate magazine,” a “failing magazine,” a “terrible magazine,” and a “third-rate magazine that’s not going to be in business much longer”; he also referred to me as a “con man,” among other things. Trump has continued these attacks recently, calling me a “horrible, radical-left lunatic named Goldberg” at a rally this summer.

In the days after my original article was published, both the Associated Press and, notably, Fox News, confirmed the story, causing Trump to demand that Fox fire Jennifer Griffin, its experienced and well-regarded defense reporter. A statement issued by Alyssa Farah, a White House spokesperson, soon after publication read, “This report is false. President Trump holds the military in the highest regard.”

Shortly after the story appeared, Farah asked numerous White House officials if they had heard Trump refer to veterans and war dead as suckers or losers. She reported publicly that none of the officials she asked had heard him use these terms. Eventually, Farah came out in opposition to Trump. She wrote on X last year that she’d asked the president if my story was true. “Trump told me it was false. That was a lie.”

When I spoke to Farah, who is now known as Alyssa Farah Griffin, this week, she said, “I understood that people were skeptical about the ‘suckers and losers’ story, and I was in the White House pushing back against it. But he said this to John Kelly’s face, and I fundamentally, absolutely believe that John Kelly is an honorable man who served our country and who loves and respects our troops. I’ve heard Donald Trump speak in a dehumanizing way about so many groups. After working for him in 2020 and hearing his continuous attacks on service members since that time, including my former boss General Mark Milley, I firmly and unequivocally believe General Kelly’s account.”

(Pfeiffer, the Trump spokesperson, said, in response, “Alyssa is a scorned former employee now lying in her pursuit to chase liberal adulation. President Trump would never insult our nation’s heroes.”)

Last year, I published a story in this magazine about Milley that coincided with the end of his four-year term. In it, I detailed his tumultuous relationship with Trump. Milley had resisted Trump’s autocratic urges, and also argued against his many thoughtless and impetuous national-security impulses. Shortly after that story appeared, Trump publicly suggested that Milley be executed for treason. This astonishing statement caused John Kelly to speak publicly about Trump and his relationship to the military. Kelly, who had previously called Trump “the most flawed person I have ever met in my life,” told CNN’s Jake Tapper that Trump had referred to American prisoners of war as “suckers” and described as “losers” soldiers who died while fighting for their country.

“What can I add that has not already been said?” Kelly asked. “A person that thinks those who defend their country in uniform, or are shot down or seriously wounded in combat, or spend years being tortured as POWs, are all ‘suckers’ because ‘there is nothing in it for them.’ A person that did not want to be seen in the presence of military amputees because ‘it doesn’t look good for me.’ A person who demonstrated open contempt for a Gold Star family—for all Gold Star families—on TV during the 2016 campaign, and rants that our most precious heroes who gave their lives in America’s defense are ‘losers’ and wouldn’t visit their graves in France.”

When we spoke this week, Kelly told me, “President Trump used the terms suckers and losers to describe soldiers who gave their lives in the defense of our country. There are many, many people who have heard him say these things. The visit to France wasn’t the first time he said this.”

Kelly and others have taken special note of the revulsion Trump feels in the presence of wounded veterans. After Trump attended a Bastille Day parade in France, he told Kelly and others that he would like to stage his own parade in Washington, but without the presence of wounded veterans. “I don’t want them,” Trump said. “It doesn’t look good for me.”

Milley also witnessed Trump’s disdain for the wounded. Milley had chosen a severely wounded Army captain, Luis Avila, to sing “God Bless America” at his installation ceremony in 2019. Avila, who had completed five combat tours, had lost a leg in an improvised-explosive-device attack in Afghanistan, and had suffered two heart attacks, two strokes, and brain damage as a result of his injuries. Avila is considered a hero up and down the ranks of the Army.

It had rained earlier on the day of the ceremony, and the ground was soft; at one point Avila’s wheelchair almost toppled over. Milley’s wife, Holly­anne, ran to help Avila, as did then–Vice President Mike Pence. After Avila’s performance, Trump walked over to congratulate him, but then said to Milley, within earshot of several witnesses, “Why do you bring people like that here? No one wants to see that, the wounded.” Never let Avila appear in public again, Trump told Milley.

An equally serious challenge to Milley’s sense of duty came in the form of Trump’s ignorance of the rules of war. In November 2019, Trump intervened in three different brutality cases then being adjudicated by the military. In the most infamous case, the Navy SEAL Eddie Gallagher had been found guilty of posing with the corpse of an ISIS member. Though Gallagher was found not guilty of murder, witnesses testified that he’d stabbed the prisoner in the neck with a hunting knife. In a highly unusual move, Trump reversed the Navy’s decision to demote him. A junior Army officer named Clint Lorance was also the recipient of Trump’s sympathy. Trump pardoned Lorance, who had been convicted of ordering the shooting of three unarmed Afghans, two of whom died. And in a third case, a Green Beret named Mathew Golsteyn was accused of killing an unarmed Afghan he thought was a Taliban bomb maker. “I stuck up for three great warriors against the deep state,” Trump said at a Florida rally.

In the Gallagher case, Trump intervened to allow Gallagher to keep his Trident insignia, one of the most coveted insignia in the entire U.S. military. The Navy’s leadership found this intervention particularly offensive because tradition held that only a commanding officer or a group of SEALs on a Trident Review Board were supposed to decide who merited being a SEAL. Milley tried to convince Trump that his intrusion was hurting Navy morale. They were flying from Washington to Dover Air Force Base, in Delaware, to attend a “dignified transfer,” a repatriation ceremony for fallen service members, when Milley tried to explain to Trump the damage that his interventions were doing.

In my story, I reported that Milley said, “Mr. President, you have to understand that the SEALs are a tribe within a larger tribe, the Navy. And it’s up to them to figure out what to do with Gallagher. You don’t want to intervene. This is up to the tribe. They have their own rules that they follow.”

Trump called Gallagher a hero and said he didn’t understand why he was being punished.

“Because he slit the throat of a wounded prisoner,” Milley said.

“The guy was going to die anyway,” Trump said.

Milley answered, “Mr. President, we have military ethics and laws about what happens in battle. We can’t do that kind of thing. It’s a war crime.” Trump said he didn’t understand “the big deal.” He went on, “You guys”—meaning combat soldiers—“are all just killers. What’s the difference?”

Milley then summoned one of his aides, a combat-veteran SEAL officer, to the president’s Air Force One office. Milley took hold of the Trident pin on the SEAL’s chest and asked him to describe its importance. The aide explained to Trump that, by tradition, only SEALs can decide, based on assessments of competence and character, whether one of their own should lose his pin. But the president’s mind was not changed. Gallagher kept his pin.

One day, in the first year of Trump’s presidency, I had lunch with Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, in his White House office. I turned the discussion, as soon as I could, to the subject of his father-in-law’s character. I mentioned one of Trump’s recent outbursts and told Kushner that, in my opinion, the president’s behavior was damaging to the country. I cited, as I tend to do, what is in my view Trump’s original sin: his mockery of John McCain’s heroism.

This is where our conversation got strange, and noteworthy. Kushner answered in a way that made it seem as though he agreed with me. “No one can go as low as the president,” he said. “You shouldn’t even try.”

I found this baffling for a moment. But then I understood: Kushner wasn’t insulting his father-in-law. He was paying him a compliment. In Trump’s mind, traditional values—values including those embraced by the armed forces of the United States having to do with honor, self-sacrifice, and integrity—have no merit, no relevance, and no meaning."

Jeffrey Goldberg is the editor in chief of The Atlantic and the moderator of Washington Week With The Atlantic.

[moontyger]

Every day over the past few weeks, the Pentagon has faced questions from angry lawmakers, local leaders and citizens over the removal of military heroes and historic mentions from Defense Department websites and social media pages after it purged online content that promoted women or minorities.

In response, the department has scrambled to restore a handful of those posts as their removals have come to light. While the pages of some well-known veterans, including baseball and civil rights icon Jackie Robinson, are now back up on Pentagon websites, officials warn that many posts tagged for removal in error may be gone forever.

The restoration process has been so hit or miss that even groups that the administration has said are protected, like the Tuskegee Airmen, the first Black military pilots who served in a segregated World War II unit, still have deleted pages that as of Saturday had not been restored.

This past week chief, Pentagon spokesman Sean Parnell said in a video that mistaken removals will be quickly rectified. “History is not DEI,” he said, referring to diversity, equity and inclusion.

But due to the enormous size of the military and the wide range of commands, units and bases, there has been an array of interpretations of what to remove and how as part of the Pentagon directive to delete online content that promotes DEI. Officials from across the military services said they have asked for additional guidance from the Pentagon on what should be restored, but have yet to receive any.

The officials, who spoke to The Associated Press on condition of anonymity to describe internal deliberations, said, for example, they were waiting for guidance on whether military “firsts” count as history that can be restored. The first female Army Reserve graduate of Ranger School, Maj. Lisa Jaster, or the first female fighter pilot, Air Force Maj. Gen. Jeannie Leavitt, both had their stories deleted.

Some officials said their understanding was it did not matter whether it was a historic first. If the first was based on what Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth found to be a disqualifying characteristic, such as gender or race, it had to go, they said.

...

Overall, tens of thousands of online posts that randomly mention dozens of key words, including “gay,” “bias” and “female” — have been deleted. Officials warn that the bulk of those images are gone for good. Even as complaints roll in, officials will be careful about restoring things unless senior leaders approve.

The officials described the behind-the-scenes process as challenging, frustrating and emotionally draining. Workers going through years of posts to take down mentions of historic accomplishments by women or minorities were at times reduced to tears or lashed out in anger at commanders directing the duty, the officials said.

Others were forced to pull down stories they were proud of and had worked on themselves. They were often confused about the parameters for removal once a key word was found, and they erred on the side of removal, according to the officials.

Not complying fully with the order was seen as dangerous because it could put senior military service leaders at risk of being fired or disciplined if an errant post celebrating diversity was left up and found. Officials said the department relied in large part on a blind approach — using artificial intelligence computer commands to search for dozens of those key words in online department, military and command websites.

If a story or photo depicted or included one of the terms, the computer program then added “DEI” into the web address of the content, which flagged it and led to its removal.

...

The Defense Department is publicly insisting that mistakes will be corrected.

As an example, the Pentagon on Wednesday restored some pages highlighting the crucial wartime contributions of Navajo Code Talkers and other Native American veterans. That step came days after tribes condemned the removal. Department officials said the Navajo Code Talker material was erroneously erased,

The previous week, pages honoring a Black Medal of Honor winner and Japanese American service members were also restored.

The restorations represent a shift from early, adamant denials that any deletion of things such as the Enola Gay or prominent service members was happening at all. At least two images of the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, during World War II, are still missing.

“This is fake news and anyone with a pulse knows it!” the Defense Department’s new “Rapid Response” social media account asserted March 7. “We are NOT removing images of the Enola Gay or any other pictures that honor the legacy of our warfighters.”

Over time, the Pentagon has shifted its public response as more examples of deleted pages came to light.

On Thursday, Parnell acknowledged in a video posted online that: “Because of the realities of AI tools and other software, some important content was incorrectly pulled off line to be reviewed. We want to be very, very clear: History is not DEI. When content is either mistakenly removed, or if it’s maliciously removed, we continue to work quickly to restore it.”

But others have seen the widespread erasure of history.

“Most female aviator stories and photographs are disappearing—including from the archives. From the WASPs to fighter pilots, @AFThunderbirds to @BlueAngels —they’ve erased us,” Carey Lohrenz, one of the Navy’s first female F-14 Tomcat pilots, posted to X. “It’s an across the board devastating loss of history and information.” Among the webpages removed include one about the Women Air Service Pilots, or WASPs, the female World War II pilots who were vital in ferrying warplanes for the military, and the Air Force Thunderbirds.

Parnell, Hegseth and others have vigorously defended the sweeping purge despite the flaws.

“I think the president and the secretary have been very clear on this — that anybody that says in the Department of Defense that diversity is our strength is, is frankly, incorrect,” Parnell said during a Pentagon media briefing.