#vostanik sabatino x reader

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What I've Been Working On This Week: 18/6/24

Families - You and Sean discuss the fact your family has never approved of your choices.

Listen - You give Dean some advice when he sees his son for the first time in fifteen years.

All The Federales Say... - Alden tells you the truth about what happened to his daughter.

Bittersweet Symphony - Nick steps up when you notice a deficit in your hearing.

And The Music Plays On... - You relearn how to play with your new condition.

Making Memories - After a family tragedy the Reyes Family get together to create something special.

Good Company - You and Duke find out the truth about your ability.

What Happens Undercover - Will and you have always had an agreement.

A Future With You - Hetty helps Nik begin to plan a future with you.

Grief - Jean mourns your loss after he recieves news of your death.

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This gives me such Sabatino vibes. He comes home from a mission with the CIA, can't stand not to be touching you for one more minute. He has you pinned, hands above your head as he fucks you slowly, making sure you know exactly how he feels.

@thiashazzywriting @kmc1989

Groaning “fuck I missed you” as I give you slow deep strokes

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For Better, For Worse: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @thiashazzywriting @words-and-seeds @kmc1989

Mentions of 3+1: Sassy

It’s your sister Sassy that fucks everything up.

That and the hashtags #SabatinoWedding, #MrsVostanikSabatino #Mysisterswedding

Both you and Nik make a point of not being on social media. It’s too dangerous with your line of work, especially with Nik’s history in the CIA. Working with Nell and Eric has given you insight into how easy it can be to infiltrate people’s lives through those platforms and the both of you have fucked up a lot of shit for a lot of bad people.

Throughout the duration of your relationship, you have expressed the importance of this upon your sister. You’ve never told Sassy that Nik used to be CIA, as far as she’s concerned, he’s worked private security abroad for the few couple of years before he took a job with the US Mashall’s office.

Pictures of yourself are fine, you tell her, but none of us.

The issue is she’s a self-absorbed Valley Girl.

You don’t realise she’s completely ignored you until it becomes a problem.

The problem being you come home to find your house trashed and your husband beating the shit of out of a man whose broken in with the intention of murdering you both. Your gun is already in your hand when you see the second man coming for Nik with a combat knife in his hand. You don’t hesitate to pull the trigger. Three shots centre mass and the son of bitch collapses before he even lays a hand on your man.

Nik flinches at the sound, his head wheeling towards you as blood streams down the left side of his face from a cut in his hair line. There’s a bruise already blossoming along his jaw. You shove down the rage that courses through your body as you help him to subdue the one that’s still living.

“They were waiting for me when I got home.” He tells you as he sits on the floor with his back against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his forehead before it can drip into his eyes. “They moved like they were military."

You kneel down in front of him, a warm, damp cloth in your hand. You tip his chin up so that you can study his features and he closes his eyes as you gently clean away the crimson streaks that cover his skin.

“I don’t understand how this happened.” He murmurs, his voice a little raspy. You can see black bruising already forming across his throat, evidence of a chokehold. “We’re both so careful.”

“We’ll figure it out.” You say softly, your fingertips ghosting across his cheek. “I promise you we will.”

***

There’s silence in the Ops Centre as the two of you stand before the huge wall length screen, reviewing your sister’s Instagram account: SuddenlySassy. You’ve never laid eyes on it before; you’ve never needed to. What you’re seeing right now fills you with a sense of fury because Sassy did not listen to a word you said.

Despite your request there’s pictures of both you and Nik from the wedding all over her feed, the venue tagged. There’s even a video of your first dance to Vance Joy’s ‘Fire and the Flood’ posted up in her Reels for the entire world to see.

This is how they found you, you realise, through your sister’s social media.

When Deeks calls, he finds the venue was broken into earlier in the week, the only thing taken were the records pertaining to wedding billings, your address would have been in that documentation.

Beside you Nik clears his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest. You don’t even have to look at him to know that his jaw is clenched and his lips pursed together. He has a fraught relationship with Sassy at the best of times, he’s lost track of how much he’s had to bite his tongue because despite the fact he hates her, he respects you.

“My sister almost killed you.” You find yourself whispering as you lean back against the desk.

It horrifies you how close you’d come to losing the man you love because of your sister’s inability to actually do as she’s told.

Nik says nothing. He’s always known how selfish Sassy is, but she’s the only family you have left, and he knows how important she is to you. You ask Nell to delete the Instagram account, not just the posts about the two of you but the whole thing. It’s then he realises you’re finally at the end of your tether.

He loses track of you for a while after that, he’s chasing down the guys who hired the hit with Deeks while you handle things back in Ops. When you get to the safe house that night, he busies himself unpacking his things while you sit down on the bed, your hands pressed between your knees. This whole thing has taken a toll on you.

Nik’s already planning the next steps because he knows you’re not in the right mindset to even consider anything beyond this moment. The two of you are going to have to move, change up your routines because there’s no telling if your information was sold on the open market. Nik’s already started looking at listings.

When he turns to face you, he can see you’re exhausted and overwrought. It’s in the quiet moments at the end of the mission that it all comes crashing down on you, the emotions you’ve been supressing they rush to the surface because the adrenaline fades and you’re forced to confront the reality of what happened.

“We won’t be seeing Sassy for a while.” You say quietly as he sits down alongside of you.

“I would never ask you to do that.” He says he takes your hand in his. His thumb chases over your wedding ring and he remembers that moment he looked into your eyes as he placed it on your finger. For better or for worse he had promised you, and that included Sassy. “I know how much she means to you.”

“Nik.” You say softly, tilting your head towards him. “When I told her what happened today, she was more concerned about her social media accounts than the fact she’s blown up our entire life. She refused to acknowledge she did anything wrong and I know she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she thought it would get her more attention. I can’t take that risk, you’re too important to me.”

He hears your voice break just a little and he knows that it’s hard. Your sister is the only biological family you had felt, he can’t imagine how tough it must be to make a decision this, but the thing is he agrees with it because the life you’re building it’s going to require more stability in the future. You can’t take the risk of something like this happening again, especially not with a kid in the mix. The two of you have been talking about it a lot recently. He thinks it’ll happen in the next couple of years.

“The thing that terrified me today was thinking about what would have happened if you got home before I did.” He finds himself telling you, his voice raw with emotion.

He’s gone over the scenario a thousand times in his head and the images, they haunt him. You’re both highly trained but the guys who came after him today were too. He knows when he gets in the shower later, his body is going to be riddled with bruises, he can already feel the stiffness setting in as he sits beside you.

“I keep thinking of the next time, what if I’m pregnant, what if we have kids…” You trail off squeezing his hand tightly. “That’s why I have to do this. I have to protect our family, the one we have now and the one we’ll have in the future.”

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Sabatino: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @words-and-seeds @novamariestark @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @stelacole

Companion piece to A Sight For Sore Eyes - You and Nik reunite on a dusty road in Iraq.

You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around Sabatino. In L.A when you work cases together he’s still Nik, Sabatino takes a backseat but here in Iraq, there’s no space for the man you love, there’s just the diligent soldier. This is how he copes, you realise as you watch him hold court. He locks away all the things that make him Nik, he becomes another person. You understand now what he means when he says that he lost himself for a couple of years, he lost touch with Nik and became Sabatino.

You’ve forgotten how capable he is, how controlled he is. Sabatino’s contingency plans have continency plans which comes in extremely handy when the mobile command unit is attacked by ISIS insurgents. You’ve been in a lot of fire fights over the years but none with him, none like this. It’s in this instance you get a true sense of his Sabatino’s nature and it occurs to you that this is the reason The Agency can’t let him go, Sabatino is far too valuable to them because he adapts to every situation with a calmness that borders on pathological.

The odds aren’t in your favour, you know that, he knows that. It doesn’t matter how many contingencies he has, you’re at a precipice, every single one of you staring down the barrel of  a gun. You’re crouched beside him, taking cover and trying to reload your weapon when he reaches out and squeezes your hand. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze and you see a flash of Nik right there in front of you.

“I love you,” he says fiercely, his mouth covering yours and in that moment you feel the force of it. His love, his adoration, it intermingles with the violence in the air.

This could be the last time, the last kiss and Nik he’s making a promise, he’s going to fight for the two of you, he’s going to hold on as long as he can.

You feel the moment he slips back into Sabatino. He pulls away and his expression hardens. He checks the remaining bullets in the assault rifle before he takes up position, covering the door.

“When I give the signal.” He tells you as he looks down the scope of the weapon. “I want you to run.”

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3 Times Sabatino Thought About Proposing and the 1 Time He Did - Part Four: Cake - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: Nina Barnes)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @words-and-seeds @novamariestark @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @stelacole @@elixae

Part One: Adjustment Period - Nik decides it's time to propose.

Part Two: Sassy - Nik's plans to propose are thwarted by your sister Sassy.

Part Three: Love Language - Nik loses the ring during a footchase.

Sabatino decides to call it quits on the proposal. It’s clear to him at this point that it’s not the right time, that the universe keeps throwing up obstacles for a reason. All he wants is for it to be special for you, but he keeps just fucking it up. The pressure is stressing him out and it’s starting to affect the relationship. You can tell he’s hiding something from you and the fact he refuses to discuss it creates an issue. There’s always been things he hasn’t been able to tell you, you accept that, but this is different.

The pause will hopefully give him a little breathing room.

Things go back to normal; he lives in the present instead of being preoccupied with the future. He starts to have fun again, exist in the moment. The two of you spend the weekend taking some time to reacquaint with each other. His job’s been a little manic and you’ve been working a case with the FBI, you’ve barely existed in the same space over the past couple of weeks. He spends Saturday morning in bed with you, his hands chasing over your skin as he makes love to you in freshly laundered sheets. After dinner you go for a walk on the beach because you’re craving sweet and he’s thinking ice cream.

He lives for moments like this, strolling down the boardwalk, his fingers entwined with yours. There weren’t many of them when he was working for the CIA, now he treasures every single one.

The sun is setting when you come across Nina’s cupcake truck. Your eyes light up, and ice cream is completely forgotten because he knows how much you love her Red Velvet cupcakes and she only has one left. He leaves you sitting on a bench, watching the ocean roll up on the shore. He knows you find it soothing, the crash of the waves, the motion of the water.

“A little bird tells me you’re planning on locking that down.” Nina says, gesturing towards you when he orders the cupcakes.

“I was.” Sabatino tells her as he hands over the cash. “But the universe had other plans, so here we are.”

“You got in your own head.” Nina says knowingly as she opens up two individual cake boxes.

“There’s a lot of pressure to get it right you know?” He explains, his palm running over the nape of his neck. "It was causing a few issues between the two of us, so I shut it down."

Nina rests her elbows on the counter before leaning forward.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” She says with a shrug before picking up an icing bag and tilting the red velvet cupcake towards her. “I mean you’re already falling down at the first hurdle.”

“First hurdle?” He repeats with a bitter laugh. “Trust me, there have been plenty of hurdles and we’ve cleared every single one of them.”

“Uh huh.” She says as she surveys her work on the cupcake. “Then this little one should be no problem.”

She shows him the cupcake and his gaze flickers up to her in disbelief when he reads the words ‘Marry Me.”

“Are you serious?” He asks her, his hands on his hips.

“It’s cute right?” She says before putting it away into its own box. “And it’s perfect for her. She’s low maintenance and this is something a little bit special. Not too showy but personalised. Even you can’t fuck it up.”

He hates to say it but she’s right. He couldn’t have chosen a more perfect moment. The tide is coming in, the waves creeping up the shore and the light is just sublime, that cascade of colours illuminating the beach.

“What do I owe you?” He asks her, taking the box begrudgingly.

“I get to make the cake for your wedding.” She barters with him.

He gives her a look before he crosses his arms over his chest and sighs.

“Fine, if she says yes, then you get to make the cake.” He agrees before pointing his finger at her. “But if she says no, I get free cupcakes for life.”

“Yea that’s not happening.” She tells him, shaking her head. “If she says no, you get a pity cupcake, this one time and that’s it.”

“Deal.” He agrees before turning his back on Nina and focusing his attention on more important things.

You rise to your feet when he appears alongside of you, the individual cupcake box in his hand. You smile as you take it from him. That smile, it lights up his entire world and he knows that this is it, this is his moment.

He has the ring in his hand when you open the box, he watches as you study the writing before you tilt your head towards him.

“Nik…”

He doesn’t get down on one knee. It’s not your dynamic. Your partnership has always been based on mutual respect, meeting your challenges face to face and that’s how he intends to do this. He takes your hand in his, the ring clasped tightly between his fingers.

“Alana, I have loved you since that day you showed up in Afghanistan and every day, I loved you more. I want to grow old with you, start a family with you, I want…” He pauses for a moment, his voice rough as he struggles to find the words. “I want you to be my wife. So, I’m just a boy standing in front of a girl with a cupcake, asking her to marry me.”

You laugh and it’s such a rich, beautiful sound. He hopes he gets to spend the rest of his life hearing it.

“Yes Nik.” You say as he slips the ring onto your finger. “Of course, I’ll be your wife.”

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3 Times Sabatino Thought About Proposing and the 1 Time He Did - Part Two: Sassy - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @words-and-seeds @novamariestark @thiashazzywriting @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @stelacole

3 Times Sabatino Thought About Proposing and the 1 Time He Did:

Part One: Adjustment Period - Nik decides it's time to propose.

Sabatino’s going to propose tonight.

He’s ready, he thinks you’re ready.

You’ve been happier since he quit the CIA. He thought the transition period would be a little more awkward, that you’d fight over stuff like emptying the dishwasher, but you don’t. That’s all-petty shit compared to what the two of you have been through.

You’d been ecstatic when he suggested dinner at Elixir, it’s been on your radar since you saw the reviews in the LA Times a couple of months ago. It had been impossible to get a reservation, until Fatima had pulled some strings. She’d made arrangements with the manager for some private time on the rooftop terrace, they’re going to set up some champagne, add a few touches to make it special. Sabatino owes that woman big time.

It feels like the stars have aligned, because everything is going perfectly. The weather is balmy, the sky is clear. Somehow the two of you are both home at a reasonable hour which almost never happens in your line of work, giving you plenty of time to get ready.

He’s pulled out his best suit for the occasion, it’s blue with tailored fit, he wears a crisp white shirt underneath. He doesn’t get much opportunity to wear a suit anymore now that he’s with the US Marshalls, he’s missed it. He catches a glance of himself in the mirror in the living room, smoothing his palm over his hair once more. He’s feeling good about tonight, he looks good. His hand drifts to his left interior pocket, checking for the ring. It’s the millionth time he’s done this in the past hour, and it still resides in the same place.

When you step out of the bedroom, he thinks he could just marry you there and then. You’re wearing a black, off the shoulder dress that clings to your form like it was made for you. You’ve always been beautiful but this, this is next level.

“You’re stunning,” He tells you, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a smile. His hands come to rest on your hips, his thumbs chasing over the line of your panties through the fabric as his lips brush over the curve of your jaw. “So gorgeous, I’m not sure we’re gonna make it out of the house.”

You laugh as your fingers lace at the back of his neck. The scent of your perfume floods him, it’s new something a little darker, a little sexier. You really are pulling out all the stops tonight.

“Wait until you see what I’m wearing underneath.” You whisper, your breath ghosting in his ear. It sends a thrill chasing through his nerve endings. It’s an exhilarating feeling to be desired by you and he treasures that sensation.  

“How about a sneak peek?” He asks you, his voice husky before he holds up his fingers to indicate the measurement. “Just a little one.”

“Nik…”

He fucking loves the way you say his name, when you get back home, he’s going to spend the entire night making you say it.

When the doorbell rings he wants to ignore it but then there’s the knocking. The rapid, incessive raps that he knows can only belong to one person.

No, he pleads, not tonight.

Any other time, just not tonight.

As soon as you open the door, he knows his night is over.

Your younger sister Sassy stands on the doorstep with a Louis Vuitton overnight bag slung over her shoulder and mascara running down her cheeks. Your sister is an adult version of a Valley Girl, selfish and over the top. It’s going to be one of those nights he can tell.  

The thing about Sassy, she’s a hot mess. She hasn’t met a wellness craze or a man who earns more than six figures she doesn’t like. She switches careers more than she hops fiancés, which by his reckoning must be coming up to double figures soon. The other thing is she’s also the only family you have in this world so when she’s in ‘crisis’ you drop everything.

Sabatino sighs before stripping off his suit jacket and folding it over the back of the couch. He undoes the cuffs of his shirt before rolling his sleeves up towards his elbows. He knows you’re not making that reservation; he also knows you skipped lunch in anticipation of tonight, so he busies himself in the kitchen. He makes linguini alfredo while he listens with half an ear to Sassy as she tells a story he’s heard a thousand times before.

She was engaged to Anton, who caught her in an intimate embrace with Tobias, now he’s broken off the engagement and she’s realised he was the only man she ever loved. She’d said the exact same thing about David and Juan before him. He gives it a week until she finds some other rich, young thing to torture.

It’s when you disappear into the bedroom to get changed out of your dress that something in his chest just sinks. He glances at the clock and sighs because that special moment he’d planned, it’s passed. Dinner and a rooftop proposal at Elixir was a one-time thing and now it’s been wasted.

“You’re usually a lot more vocal.” Sassy says as she picks up the half empty bottle of red wine and tops up her glass.

It’s the good wine of course, the one you usually buy for special occasions. She’d taken it out of the wine rack the second she’d step foot in the kitchen, helping herself.

“You don’t want my input.” He warns her as he takes two plates out of the cupboard and sets them down on the counter.

“That’s never stopped you before.” She points out before gesturing at the space between his brows. “You’re in a mood, you have that little crease you always get when you’re trying to bite your tongue.”

Despite the fact Sassy is a complete disaster in every aspect of her life, she’s emotionally intelligent. She reads body language like a pro, it’s the reason she’s managed to ensnare so many affluent men.

“We had plans tonight.” He says, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. “And as usual you bulldoze your way in here with your melodrama and theatrics. You don’t care about this guy, just like the fact you won’t care about the next one. You just like being the centre of attention and when you’re not getting it from them, you come running back here to get it to your sister. It’s the same thing everytime.”

“Oh Vostanik.” She tuts, his full name rolling off her lips harshly. “You haven’t been around long enough to judge the relationship I have with my sister.”

“Almost five years.” He informs her, his mouth setting into a grim line. “That’s how long I’ve been with Alana.”

“You were barely in her life for four of them.” She reminds him, swilling the wine glass in her hand. “She’s the girl you fucked when you came to LA, I’m sure you had one in every port, you private security guys always do.”

Private security was the cover story you both used to explain his absence in your life. He was away in foreign countries ‘consulting’. Sassy thought he’d been living it up with sheiks in Dubai instead of evading capture in Iran. She’s accused him before of fucking his way through continents. He’s denied it of course, but when that woman gets something in her head there’s no telling her otherwise.

“You do know the only reason she’s with you is out of obligation.” She tells him as she takes a sip from the wine glass. “My sister is extremely loyal, and I think if you hadn’t taken that bullet for her in Afghanistan then we wouldn’t even be here. She’d be happily married to a man who deserves her, instead of stagnating in a relationship that’s going nowhere.”

It's a slap in the face, one that hits him hard because he’s always had this doubt, this tiny insecurity that the reason you’re with him is because you feel indebted to him on some level. Sassy’s picked up on that, he realises. That’s what your sister does. She finds the weak spot and she pushes it and pushes it until it gives.

Every single part of him wants to kick her out, to tell her he’s sick of all the drama, that she needs to grow the fuck up and take a long, hard look at her life choices. The only reason he doesn’t is because the only person it’ll be hurting is you and he would do anything to prevent that.

You step out of the bedroom just as he snatches up his jacket from the coat hooks. You’ve changed into one of his old band t-shirts and leggings, a pair of his socks are pulled up over the calves. His heart warms at the sight of you because no matter what Sassy says, it’s these moments that mean the world to him.

“I’ve made dinner.” He tells you, tipping your chin up so you can look into his eyes. He hopes you see the love there, that he’s not running from you right now but from the situation because he knows if he sticks around, he’s going to say something he regrets. “I’m gonna go out for a while, catch up with Deeks, give the two of you a little space.”

He sees the slight furrow in your brow, you know that something’s happened, but he can’t bring himself to explain it, not with Sassy still sitting there watching the exchange over the rim of her wine glass.

“I love you.” He says as his lips brushing over yours tenderly. He’s not ashamed to say it or to show it. He doesn’t give a shit if Sassy believes him or not, all that matters is that you do. You smile as he pulls away and he knows he has nothing to worry about, that Sassy’s just yanking his chain the same way as always. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

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3500 Follower Celebration Bingo Card Completed!

Firstly, thank you so much to everybody who participated in 3500 Follower Celebration!

There were some amazing picks and I enjoyed writing every single one of these pieces.

All the short pieces have been released, you can find them here:

Say It Again - Sean Renard x Reader (NSFW) - Sean knows you need to hear it.

Germany - Beau Simpson x Reader (NSFW) - You give Beau something to think about before he's deployed to Gemany.

Rough - Joe Velasco x Reader - Joe needs more from you after an undercover op.

What You Like: Nick Torres x Reader (NSFW) - Nick still knows what you like, even after some time apart.

The longer pieces are booked in on the below dates:

Love Language (NSFW) - Jubal Valentine x Reader - You discover that Jubal is fluent in Italian. (Out 1st March)

Culture - Wade Grey x Reader - Wade discovers the real reason you transfered over to arson investigation. (Out 13th March)

The First Man - Scott Forrester x Reader - Scott supports you after the man you’re seeing is arrested for espionage. (Out 17th March)

Honeypot (NSFW) - Matthew Keller x Reader - Keller shows you why he really is the better man. (Out 19th March)

A Little Too Late - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader - Nik discovers you've been keeping a secret when he accidently opens a letter. (Out 2nd April)

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StolenMoments!Series - Part One: First Date - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

You try not to like Sabatino, you really do. He's a spook, a CIA Officer, a master of manipulation but there's just something about him that captures you. You know that the outcome of that last mission weighs on him, you can see the regret in his eyes when he talks about Brendan Broake’s death.

Murder is what you’d thought when you’d first encountered him under his alias.

Accident is what he had told you in the aftermath.

You believe him, despite yourself.

When he’s not wearing a persona, he’s captivating. He talks with his hands, the left side of his mouth quirks up into a smile, his accent is sharper, more defined. It’s a far cry from the alias he was using when you first met him, an insurance adjuster called Roger who simply spat out the word lawyer.

“I heard you had to cancel a date tonight for this?” He says as he sits beside you in an unmarked car, watching the building across the street.

You’ve been here for a couple of hours, keeping an eye on your target. He hasn’t done anything more interesting than pass by the window a couple of times with a glass of top shelf whisky in his hand. In comparison the two of you are now eating Chinese from white take-out boxes with chopsticks.

“Sam and Michelle are trying to set me up with a teacher friend of theirs.” You tell him, your eyes fixed on Sidorov’s window.

“I’m guessing you weren’t looking forward to it.” He says, digging through the noodles in his box in search of the chicken.

“Trust me I much prefer being here with you tonight.” You utter, grimacing as Sidorov lingers in front of the glass with his robe open. “I never know what to say when they ask what I do for work…”

“Because if you say law enforcement, they either lose interest or they get a little too interested.” He summarises, nodding knowingly.

He’s been there, he was DEA before he became an operative for the CIA, he’s met his fair share of badge bunnies. They’re good for a night but anything more than that and they start to get a little crazy.

“I had a guy take me home to show me his murder wall once.” You reveal and suddenly his interest is piqued. He tilts his head towards you.

“O.J, JonBenét Ramsey or Jonathan Luna?” He asks because he’s been on the receiving end of the first two before and the third is more of a personal favourite, he’s listened to it recently on a true crime podcast.

“Technically two of those are already solved.” You remind him and he almost spits out his food because there’s not a person in his very small circle who knows who Jonathan Luna is, despite how weird the case is. The fact you do…

It makes him like you just that little bit more.

“Jonathan Luna’s not solved.” He protests, pointing the chopsticks at you. “There’s not a chance in hell that was a suicide. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

The edges of your mouth twitch up into a smile and his gaze meets yours. A blush creeps up his cheeks because he’s just betrayed a part of himself, shown you something that he’s passionate about. You want to explore that a little, hear his thoughts, his theories. You want to hear all about those true crime podcasts you know he listens to.

“It was The Golden State Killer.” You respond to his earlier question “Before they caught him.”

Boring, he thinks. Every man and his dog had a theory on that one before Paul Holes had managed to track down the killer. He is curious though…

“Was he close?” Sabatino asks, picking up his soda from the cupholder and sipping through the paper straw.

“Not even a little.” You laugh and he shares a smile with you because he gets it entirely. He’s lost count of the number of parties he’d attended before he turned CIA, where people would literally assault him with their theories. It’s a hazard when you’re law enforcement.

“I can’t even keep a plant alive let alone a relationship.” He confides in you, before gesturing between the two of you. “This is probably the best date I’ve had in years.”

“It’s in my top three.” You say with a humorous lilt. “Stuck together in a car, eating Chinese food while we wait for Sidorov to finish fucking his mistress. It’s dinner and entertainment.”

He laughs then, it’s a rich, warm sound that resonated through his body. It catches him off guard because for the first time in a while it’s genuine. He’s used to pandering to other people, making them feel comfortable, it’s part of his job. However, sitting here with you tonight, it’s the most real he’s been with another person in a long time.

“I guess the second date will have to make up for it.” He says, setting the takeout container on the dashboard before he wipes at his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh, you think there’s going to be a second date, do you?” You tease before setting your own little white box onto the panel so you can hunt down the carrier bag. He pulls it out with a flourish before holding it open for you. A clean stakeout space is a happy stakeout space. He waits for you to deposit the trash before he fastens the bag, and he tosses it in the back seat before he turns his attention back to you.

You’re an attractive woman, he thought that the first time he met you but it’s more than that. There’s a connection between the two of you, an undertone of something. He finds himself slipping back to the person he used to be, the man beneath all the identities. He hasn’t been that person in a very long time.

“I’m kind of liking the vibe we have, aren’t you?” He says dipping his head so that he can meet your eyes. “And I can promise you that I don’t have a murder board at home, that’s strictly for office use only.”

“You’re serious?” You ask him and he smiles.

It’s his real smile, the one that no one else gets to see. You can tell because his eyes crinkle at the edges.

“Yea.” He says quietly as he leans in a little, his gaze lowering to your lips. “There’s an Italian place not far from the Boatshed. A little dinner, a little wine, we can get to know each other better.”

“You can tell me about your true crime podcasts.” You murmur as he reaches out, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek. The scent of his aftershave floods your senses, something woody with a citrus undertone. His nose trails along the length of yours and you tilt your chin up so that your mouth brush over his.

You’re surprised by how soft his lips are, how tender he is with his kiss. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw and already you know you’re falling for him. And that’s ok, because he’s falling for you too.

“Sidorov’s on the move.” Sam’s voice comes across the radio. “Back exit.”

The two of you break apart reluctantly before pulling on your seatbelts.

“Tomorrow night.” He promises, his gaze focusing on the road ahead as he starts the engine of the car. “We’ll do it tomorrow night.”

***

The second date never happens.

Instead, the two of you end up sharing a cigarette outside of the Boatshed. He lost a friend today; a partner and you can see how much it devastates him. It’s in the way he pinches his brow when he strides outside to get some air, his hunched shoulders. He’s barely keeping his shit together.

“I have to go to Washington tonight.” He tells you wearily and you nod your understanding. You’d heard they were setting up a taskforce to bring down Sidorov, you know he has to be there. That even if it was a choice he’d still go. You didn’t like Synder, but he deserved better than being shot to death on a basketball court.

“Nik.” You say his name and his head inclines towards you.

Your fingertips brush over his cheek and he raises his hand, clasping your palm to his face. He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, savouring your touch because he knows it’s the last time he’s going to feel it.

“I’m sorry we missed our moment.” He says, his lips brushing over the hollow of your wrist.

“Yea.” You whisper with a sad smile. “I am too.”

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StolenMoments!Series - Part Three: Yours - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

It’s in the late hours of the evening on Christmas Day that you make it back to base. You’ve been out in the wild since the early hours of the morning, meeting with community leaders from the villages you’d supported in the past, re-establishing connections. The reception is positive for the most part, you meet a few roadblocks but nothing that escalates to a point you can’t manage.

When you climb out the Hum-Vee you’re tired, aching and filthy. It’s been a while since you’ve carried this much equipment on your person, it’s something you’re still getting used to.

Sabatino’s in the kitchen when you step through the door. A heavenly scent assails you, your stomach rumbling as you strip off your equipment and jacket before hanging it in your cubby. The two of you have barely seen each other over the last few days, with your trips off site and his attempt at tracking a group of insurgents. You know he’s around though when his heated blanket appears folded neatly on your bunk after the generator goes out. The nights get cold here and your appreciative of the gesture.

“That smells amazing.” You tell him, shaking the sand out of your hair and he gives you that smile, the one that makes your heartbeat just a little faster in your chest.

“I’m more than just a pretty face.” He says as you step into the kitchen to survey his work. “It’ll be ready in thirty.”

“Just let me get washed up first then I’m all yours.” You say before disappearing into the bathroom.

All yours…

He has to admit, he likes the thought of it. The two of you never made that date in L.A but he’s hoping not to miss his moment here in Afghanistan.

He sets the battery powered camping light in the centre of the table before turning the mains off. It casts a pretty dulcet glow across the table, illuminating the space. The ‘plates’ you’re eating from are trays, the ‘turkey’ is actually bearded vulture and the wine is from a box someone bought over for New Years, but he’s done his best with the tools he has at hand.

When you step out of the bathroom, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re clad in leggings and an oversized jumper with thick woollen socks pulled over your feet. Your damp hair falls loose across your features.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” You tell him, gesturing at the meal as you take the seat across from him.

“Nah. Just a man trying to impress the girl he likes.” He says, a small smile playing across his lips.

The conversation flows from there. You learn that his mother was Armenian, she met his Italian father as a student in the US. They both loved to cook, a trait that was passed down to their son. At weekends his father would take him camping, teach him how to live off the land, skills he’s utilises throughout his career, although he prefers the comforts of an urban landscape these days.

“Nothing beats a hot shower and a comfortable bed.” He tells you.

In turn he learns that you enlisted in the Army straight out of high school as a way to pay for college. You have a degree in criminal justice and became a member of the military police, serving two tours in Afghanistan before you put in your papers and began working in humanitarian services.

“A lot of the people I met with today are girls I’ve helped over the years, women who’ve stepped into the role of community leaders.” You confide in him, sipping from a beaker filled with wine. “Some were child brides, others trafficked, or dishonoured. I was part of a network that rescued girls from abusive situations, educated them, gave them prospects.”

It’s the first inkling he has that the work you had done with the villages in the region was actually clandestine. They’re relocation spots he realises, homes for people who couldn’t return to their families for fear of being killed or punished. He understands now why it had to be you that came to Afghanistan, the unique position you were in to help.

“You saved them, so they trust you.” He remarks quietly as the pieces fall into place.

“It’s more than that.” You say with a sad smile. “I saw some horrific shit as an MP, the stuff some of our soldiers got away...”

You trail off with a bitter taste in your mouth. He knows what you’re talking about. Out here it’s lawless, and if you’re of the right disposition it’s an excellent hunting ground for the weak and the vulnerable.

“I got a rep for taking on those cases, the ones where civilians accused our guys. They started to see me as someone who would hold others accountable.” You say leaning back in your chair, cradling the glass of wine to your chest. “It was recommended that I didn’t reenlist when the time came, that it would be bad for my health.”

It’s a thinly veiled threat, one that tastes of violence, and it infuriates him because you shouldn’t have had to give up a job that was worth doing in order to protect yourself from the very organisation you were policing.

He’s still thinking about it when he walks you to your room that night. How brave you were taking those men to task for their crimes, for stepping into a role that put a target on your back. He knows there’s more you’re not telling him, that when you’re ready you’ll disclose the rest of it. He can wait, he isn’t going anywhere.

He intends to say goodnight, to go back to his bunk, listen to a true crime podcast the same way he has all other nights however there’s a look in your eyes as you linger in the doorway.

When you kiss him, it’s nothing more than a light brush of the lips but it ignites something inside of him. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw, his palm coming to rest on the nape of your neck.

“Take me to bed Nik.” You whisper against his lips, and he smiles as he closes the door behind him.

He makes love to you on the floor of your bunkroom, the blankets from the other rigs laid out across the ground, cushioning it. Each bunk is single person, meant to discourage fraternization and Sabatino he likes to have space to work. He takes his time with you, stealing greedy kisses from your mouth as he undresses you slowly, removing each layer as if he’s carefully unwrapping a gift.

That’s how he sees you, something precious, to be cared for, revered. His lips chase over your skin, mapping out all of those sensual little areas, the ones that make you say his name. He commits each and every one of them to memory.

God, the noises you make, it’s enough to drive any man to madness.

You taste like God damn sunshine when he gets his mouth on you. He licks up that sweet honey like it’s a feast, his tongue tracing over your clit before he thrusts his tongue into your needy cunt making your hips arch and you head tip back into the pillow.

You look so fucking beautiful when you come, that pretty pink flush creeping across your skin in the throes of rapture. He kisses his way back up your body, his skilled palms caressing your curves as he slots between your legs. The tip of his cock brushes over wetness, smearing the head of it with your slick. He positions himself, right there at your entrance waiting.

If you want him, you have him, but he's got to hear it before he takes this any further.

“Nik, please.” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

It’s been along time since anyone has said those words to him.

He sinks into you slowly, his mouth covering yours, stifling that gorgeous little moan as he fills you completely. Christ, he almost loses his fucking mind because this, it’s absolutely perfect, you are absolutely perfect. Your thighs tighten around his hips as he moves in long, punctuated thrusts that rake over that deviant little spot inside of you, the one that has you keening for him. His fingers entwine with yours and your breathing hitches just a little because the intimacy of that, it heightens everything.

It's never been like this for him, he’s never felt so connected to another human being. You bite his lower lip when you come, and he fucking loses it. You grip him like you were made for him, wringing the ecstasy right out of his body as he spills his release inside of you. Still, he isn’t satisfied, he fucks it deeper because he’s a territorial son of a bitch, and you need to know you’re his.

You kiss him in that moment, moaning into his mouth and he realises you need it just as much as he does.

“Oh, you like that.” He whispers, his thumb ghosting over the curve of your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“I do.” You tells him, your fingertips trailing along the scars that line his back. “It makes me feel like I’m yours.”

“You are mine.” He says resolutely, his lips brushing over yours. “It doesn’t matter where in the world we are; you’ll always be mine.”

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StolenMoments!Series Part Two: Christmas in Afganistan - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging:  @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

Part One: First Date

You end up in Afghanistan over Christmas.

You’ve been embedded in the country for over a week now, using your contacts to track down a terrorist cell with ties to an attack back in LA. In the past you’d worked with humanitarian groups, delivering a very specific form of aid to villages in the region. You’d built a lot of trust amongst the natives; it gave you access to information that the military personnel you worked with couldn’t get their hands on.

You’ve been living in a makeshift base, created especially for the task force that you’re a part of. On the outside it looks rundown and ramshackle however inside it’s the equivalent of huge modern-day motorhome, with up-to-date tech, hot running water and internet speeds that rivalled the ones back home.

The place had been haphazardly decorated for the Christmas season before you got here, there’s tinsel around the whiteboards, fake candy canes hanging on the equipment lockers and a makeshift tree has been put together in the corner by a would-be carpenter. Someone’s managed to dig out some multicoloured lights, wrapping them around it. It’s magical in its own way.

You’re the only one staying over the holidays, Granger has sent the other members of the taskforce to Istanbul for some R&R. You’re the last one in, so you get to man the fort in their absence. You’ve been on your own for a couple of hours, reviewing the latest intel and making notes when the door opens and Sabatino steps inside.

You haven’t heard from him since the night he left for Washington. He looks a little more rugged than the last time you saw him. His jaw is lined with stubble, his face more weathered. His clothes are filthy, the remnants of the Afghan desert clinging to his hair and skin. The expression on handsome features tells you he’s just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“I need a shower.” Is the first thing he says to you. You smile as you take a sip from your coffee cup because you detected just the hint of a blush across his cheeks when he stepped past you.

You have more coffee brewing when he steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a t-shirt and combat pants, his hair still damp from the hot water. He tosses his dirty clothes into the laundry hamper in his bunk room before he follows you into the kitchen space, opening the fridge and pulling out a variation of food.

“I’ve been living off the land for the past three weeks, tracking our targets through the mountains.” He explains as he opens a container and pops some veggies into his mouth. “If I have to eat another rodent, I think I’ll become one.”

You push the mug of hot coffee towards him, and he picks it up gratefully, his dark eyes fastening on yours as he takes a sip.

“When they said they were bringing in someone with local connections I had no idea it was you.”

There’s something in the way he says it, an undertone in his voice. You read the tension in his body, the way his shoulders hunch just a little as he averts his gaze focusing on the containers.

“You don’t want me here.” You realise.

He sighs before he places both his palms on the work surface and tilts his head up to look at you. There’s a torridness in his eyes, it builds like a storm before he finally allows himself to speak.

“The last guy who had your job, I found his body.” He pauses for a second, allowing you to process that information before he continues. “What I didn’t find was his head.”

 “He was tortured.” You conclude and Sabatino nods his response.

“I don’t want that to happen to someone that I…” He catches himself before the words can slip out of his mouth. “I don’t want the same thing happening to you.”

It’s an admission of something that the two of you can’t talk about. Realistically he’s known you for a total of seventy-two hours but in his heart, it feels like a lifetime. If something were to happen to you, if he found you brutalised the same way that Sanders was, he doesn’t think that he would be able to recover.

“Are the risks any different than you going out there and tracking them over the mountains?” You ask him pointedly.

He hates this and so do you, you’ve worked with each other in an urban setting before, where you have resources and back up, but Afghanistan is a different playing field. The thing is you’ve both been here before, you know the pitfalls, the dangers, the consequences. You’ve survived Afghanistan before and so has he.

“It looks like we’re both in the same predicament.” You say when he doesn’t respond, setting your coffee mug down. “Because I actually give a shit about you too.”

It shouldn’t warm his heart but it kind of does. He sees the honesty of it in your eyes as you look up at him. He lives in a world of deceit, where everything has a double meaning, where every move is a manipulation and then there’s you. This beautiful, spirited woman who says what’s on her mind and means it. He can’t help but fall in love with you just a little more in that moment.

“Hey.” He says quietly as he reaches for you. He wraps his arms around your body, drawing you close. You fit against him perfectly, the same way you did the last time, when he kissed you during that stakeout. “Despite the circumstances I am happy to see you.”

Your palms chase up the muscles of his back, soothing over the fabric of his shirt as his lips brush over your hairline. Christ he’s missed you, he’s forgotten how good it feels to have your hands on him.

“I’m glad to see you too Nik.”

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3500 Follower Celebration: A Little Too Late - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @thiashazzywriting @words-and-seeds @novamariestark @whateversomethingbruh @a-noni-love @reneejett4 @trublu2u @stelacole

Nik doesn’t know about the letters from Kessler, not until he accidently opens one of them because he’s been up most of the night, chasing a fugitive up and down the country and he’s dog tired.

At first he thinks its from an old boyfriend.

My angel, it reads, you have no idea how much I think about you.

He rubs his palm across his mouth as he reads the words written in another man’s hand. It’s a love letter, he thinks, something twisting in his chest. He’s reading a fucking love letter.

You don’t understand how disappointed I am that you married him.

Vostanik Sabatino…

Do you say his full name when he makes you come or do you call him Nik?

It’s only as he continues that the tone shifts. He feels his jaw clenching, the paper crumpling between his fingers as the words sink into his brain.

I am going to fuck you Alana. I’m going to hunt you down and I’m going to make him watch every filthy thing I do to you before I kill him.

It gets worse from there, he goes into detail, so much detail that Nik can see it playing out in his head like he’s watching a video. It makes his stomach churn and bile climbs up the back of his throat as he forces himself to continue.

It’s when he makes reference to the other letters, that Nik realises that you’ve been keeping secrets. This isn’t the first one Kessler has sent you, it’s just the first one Nik knows about.

He’s waiting for you when you come home, the rest of those letters spread out across the kitchen table. He’d found them tucked away in a shoebox stashed at the bottom the closet, they were wrapped in an elastic band, sorted in date order. He’s spent hours reading them, going over each and every awful thing that Kessler has written and the only thing that’s stopping him from heading upstate and murdering the other man is knowing that his incarceration is about to become a lot more uncomfortable. Nik’s made sure of that.

“You should have told me what going on.” He says, his voice rough as he pushes the latest depiction of Kessler’s nauseating fantasies towards you. “I would have put a stop to it the second I heard about it."

“That’s why I didn’t.” You tell him, your gaze coming to rest upon the letter. “I don’t want you to stop it, you saw what he wrote at the end about the girls, he’s giving me another lead…”

“Alana, he is lying to you.” Nik snaps, jabbing his finger at the letters. “He’s been manipulating you since this whole thing started.”

“Nik, if there is a chance…”

He can hear the desperation in your voice and he knows that’s what this all stems from. Kessler had been trafficking minors for years before you’d caught him, selling them on the darknet. That last shipment, you’d missed it by barely a couple of hours. Three tender age girls sold to men who would brutalise them the same way that Kessler had. That’s what this psychopath is holding over your head, the possibility of finding them, of rescuing them from their misery.

“Alana.” Nik says, his tone softening as he meets your gaze. “Those girls are gone, they were gone the minute Kessler delivered them. All of this is just a way of torturing you and you’re letting him…”

Nik’s voice breaks because this, this has been going on for months. He suddenly understands what the nightmares are about, the restlessness. He thought it would settle now that Kessler was in prison but now he knows you’ve been trading little pieces of yourself to a monster, feeding him, sustaining him.

“You need to let this go.” He tells you, swallowing hard against the ache in his chest. “He’s killing you Alana and you don’t even see it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do Nik.” You say quietly, your eyes lowering to the letters laid out across the table before you use your fingertips to shift them back into order.

“No, but I can hope you make the right decision, that you chose yourself over him.” He says as he picks up his jacket from the back of the chair and pulls it on over his shoulders. “I’m going to give you some time, take a beat,  but those letters, they need to be gone by the time I get back or I swear to God I will burn them myself. I won’t have him in our home Alana, he doesn’t get to have that.”

***

It’s a couple of hours later that Nik returns, he lets himself in quietly, toeing off his boots by the door before he hangs his jacket up on the coatrack. He’d gone to the studio tonight, taken up one of the private booths. His throat is raw from the singing, his fingertips tender from playing guitar.

You’re standing in front of the sink when he steps into the kitchen, the scent of smoke fills his nostrils and he watches as you ignite the final letter with the lighter you use for candles before dropping it into the basin.

“You were right.” You tell him as you watch it burn amongst the ashes of all the others. “He got in my head, he’s been living there rent free ever since the first one came and I let him…”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Nik whispers as he comes to stand beside you. His lips brush over your temple as his palm comes to rest on the nape of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles that tense spot. “He weaponised your guilt.”

“I failed them.” You say and he can hear the agony in your voice, the devastation.

You’re crying when he wraps his arms around you, tears leaking down your cheeks. They soak through his shirt as he cradles you close.

“No.” Nik says resolutely. “You didn’t fail them, you did everything you could. Sometimes, sometimes we just get there a little too late.”

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Covert Affairs: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: G. Callen)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds @thiashazzywriting @whateversomethingbruh

You’ve been with Sabatino almost two years when your relationship gets thrust into the spotlight. It’s a litany of stolen moments whenever he arrives back in LA. Whirlwind dinner dates and nights spent ruining you in the sheets of his hotel room. You hit your favourite brunch spots, ranking them with detailed notes you keep on your phone for the next time he’s in town. He gives you a tour of Hollywood, the places he used to haunt back in the day when he was playing with his band. You catch a couple of shows over pitchers of beer in a dive bar or two.

“Do you ever think about doing it again?” You ask him as you watch the band from a spot near the bar. Your back comes to rest against his chest, his arm looped around your waist, holding you close.

“Maybe one day, when I finally put down some roots.” He murmurs into your ear as he nuzzles the curve of your throat. “I miss making music.”

He fucks you in the bathroom of the bar, the pulse of the music vibrating through the walls as he goes down on you to a God-awful rendition of ‘Killer Queen’. Whenever you hear that song in the aftermath, you think of that night. His mouth on you, tongue thrust deep inside when you come for him just as Freddy hits the high note.

Sam’s away in Somalia when Nell and Eric identify a problem. Someone has been downloading classified data from the NCIS server and selling it on the black market. An investigation is opened into everyone who was working at a computer terminal during the download, and you happen to be one of them. You’d stayed late to catch up on the after-action reports after losing a bet to Callen at the shooting rage.

It’s ridiculous that a tickle in your nose just as you’re about to pull the trigger is the reason your whole life blows up.

Part of the investigation includes cloning the personal phones of the people under suspicion so they can deep dive into their lives. You make it relatively easy, leaving yours in the top drawer of your desk when you hit the gym with Kensi. Nobody really believes it’s you, you’ve been with them six years. You’ve shed blood, cried tears, saved their lives, fought their battles. For Nell and Eric, it’s simply a process of elimination, that is until they find a wealth of incriminating data.

Calls from multiple international sources they can’t verify.

An encrypted message app, hidden under the calculator icon.

A secret cache of files that are password protected.

It’s all high-level security, something you don’t need on your personal device, almost NSA level shit. Even with their tech savvy it would take hours to break into the phone and they don’t have that kind of time because you’ve just received a text from a burner cell telling you to meet at The Majestic Hotel, Room 216, later this evening.

You must be meeting the buyer.

They can’t take the risk of that information falling into the wrong hands, so it becomes an op with you as the target. It’s hastily put together, there’s no time to run prior surveillance because it’s going down just as they pull up to the hotel. They catch a glimpse of you stepping into the room before the door closes quietly behind you.

Callen, Deeks and Kensi take up residence just outside the door, allowing a few minutes for the exchange to take place before they use the keycard to gain entry.

When they burst into the room guns drawn, it’s not what anyone expected.

The first thing they see is Sabatino. He’s in a state of undress. His white button up shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest including that messy scar etched into his flesh. There’s lipstick marks trailing down the hollow of his throat, staining his skin. It’s fire engine red, the shade you were wearing. He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, his body shielding you from what he perceives to be a threat.

For Callen it's an echo back to that day in Afghanistan, the one when Sabatino put himself between you and the bullet that would have ended your life.

When you step out from behind him, you’re in a similar state of disarray. Your lipstick is smeared across your mouth, your hands tugging the fabric of the black wrap dress around your body covering up the lingerie that you’re wearing.

You’re both arrested and taken to separate interrogation rooms in the Boatshed. You’re silent in the face of the accusation but Sabatino, he will not stop talking. He’s pissed on your behalf, that your team won’t give you the benefit of the doubt, that you’re being treated like a criminal. Him, he’s used to this shit, but you deserve better.

You don’t blame them for suspecting you, you know how it looks. You’d be doing the same thing in their shoes; in fact, you have.

They sweat you for a while, leave you spinning your wheels. It’s standard procedure in a case like this, let the suspect get in their own head, make them eager to talk. You know what’ll happen in that time, they’ll find evidence of your relationship with Sabatino. It’s not that that bothers you, it’s the intimate items you’d brought with you to the hotel room sitting in your overnight bag. The one that someone is now going to have to search through. It’s humiliating.

It's Callen that comes to interrogate you, you didn’t expect anything different, he is your superior after all. You know that your conversation is about to get a lot more personal because Callen has to consider the possibility that Sabatino’s been using you for intel, he wouldn’t be doing his due diligence if he didn’t.

“Your relationship with Sabatino, take me through it.”

So, you do, from that first kiss in the car to the last time he was in town. As you detail your relationship, things start to make sense to Callen, pieces he hasn’t put together until now. Sabatino’s reaction back in Afghanistan when you were taken, the fact he’d undertaken the prisoner walk instead of a member of your team. He had known that bullet was coming, that the Taliban couldn’t afford to let you go. He’d been prepared to die for you that day.

Callen thinks about earlier in the hotel room, Sabatino’s first instinct had been to get between you and whatever was coming through that door. He understands that urge, it’s reactive and primal, like a wolf protecting his mate.

There’s other things he’s noticed. Sabatino’s smile when you’re around, it brighter, more genuine. The look he gives you, there’s always a warmth in it despite the fact he’s being a smartass. The last time they’d arrested him, he’d been reserved but this time he’s irate and Callen knows that it comes from a place of love. That he’s infuriated on your behalf.

At the end of your story, you give him the passwords for your phone. Everything you need to prove the existence of your relationship resides on that device.

“See for yourself.” You tell him and he does.

Those files you’d encrypted?

Selfies.

The two of you eating ice cream on the boulevard, the sun setting in the background. Sabatino kissing your cheek as you smile into the camera at a bar in Hollywood. Him playing a guitar on the couch in your living room, a book of chords laid out in front of him. There’s more of them, documenting your relationship over the past two years. For anyone else these would be normal Instagram images but for someone who’s a covert agent they’re a death sentence.

The hidden chat app?

It’s full of voice notes filled with private, intimate things that no one else should ever be privy to.

When I look up at the sky tonight it reminds me of Afghanistan, the first night I spent with you.

You looked too beautiful to wake up this morning, I’m sorry I had to leave.

The sun’s just rising here, and all I can think about is how I wish I was waking up next to you.

The international calls?

Callen realises it’s Sabatino checking in, letting you know he’s still alive.

By all accounts he’s looking at a couple in love, one that’s been forced to keep their relationship a secret due the nature of Sabatino’s career. Callen’s worked for the CIA; he knows the risks. He also knows that this man would set the entire world on fire if anything happened to you.

“Come for a drink tonight.” Callen suggests when it’s all said and done. “I wanna get to know Sabatino a little better, you know, just in case he ends up joining the family.”

You roll your eyes as you stand in the main room of the Boatshed, gathering the few personal items that had been transported with you.

“Our very fucked up little family.” You retort.

“Neither less he’s important to you, so he’s important to us too.” Callen tells you.

You can hear the sincerity in voice. Callen doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, not to you. You’ve been lied to too many times in the past before you’d transferred to LA. Your old partner back San Diego had been corrupt, it had been a severe blow to your psyche. You’d been transferred to LA because you were deemed a problem child. Callen got that, he’d understood it. He’d made you a deal.

“If you’re upfront with me, I’ll be upfront with you, it’s a two-way street.”  

That’s the way the two of you operated and it had worked consistently over the past six years.

“Even after all of this.” You say gesturing at the monitors that oversee the interrogation rooms.

You’re talking about the fact that you’ve spent two years hiding your life with a man, he has a kinda love/hate relationship with. Out of everyone you work with Callen has the most trust issues, this should be a problem for him, but the thing is, it’s not. He understands it on both levels. You’re protecting the man you love, and Sabatino, he’s protecting you too.

“Especially after all of this.” He says firmly before he places his palms on the surface of the wooden table and tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Look I’m not going to pretend I understand what you see in the guy, but he cares about you, hell he almost died for you, and I can’t fault him for that. Trust me I want to, but I can’t.”

There’s an edge of humour to his voice because his interactions with Sabatino have always fluctuated between irritation and respect. The man is an excellent operative, and the problem is he knows it. You find yourself smiling despite yourself, your fingertips tapping lightly on the table.

“Alright.” You agree because this how you step into the light, how the two of you move forward into the future. “But the drinks are on you guys tonight.”

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[bullet-prooflove]

StolenMoments!Series Part Six: Love Letters - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

Part One: First Date - You and Nik have an unusual first date.

Part Two: Christmas in Afganistan - You and Nik reunite in Afganistan.

Part Three: Yours (NSFW) - Nik and you take the next step in your relationship.

Part Four: Last Words - Nik goes on the hunt after you're taken.

Part Five: Gone - Sam tells you what Nik was saying in the back of the chopper.

It’s a month later that Sabatino finds your letter.

He’s recuperating in a safehouse in Berlin, close to one of the best hospitals in the country because the initial surgery in Afghanistan came with complications and he needs to rehab. The CIA wants him back to full strength as soon as possible because he’d left a few loose ends after he’d taken that bullet. It’s only the best for their favourite operative until he gets back on his feet. He’s under no illusions about the reality of his situation, he’s an asset as well as a prisoner. His vulnerability makes him a liability, one that they can’t afford to let out of their sight.

At night he lies in bed and thinks of the events that led him here. He remembers your grip on his hand in the back of the chopper, looking into your eyes as he told you he loved you. It was the end; he was sure of it…

And then he’d woken up in one of the most prestigious hospitals in Germany, alone with a guard outside of the door. He cannot describe how disorientating it is to wake up in another country, to lose days to a morphine induced haze that fucked with you so badly, you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

He’d thought about you in his more lucid periods. That smile of yours, the way you bury your face into the curve of his throat as you drift into sleep. He reached for you in his less coherent moments only to find you absent.

That’s worse than the injury itself because it reminds him that he’s alone. You would have returned to L.A. by now, reintegrated back into your life. He knows your team; he trusts them to take care of you, but he wishes he was there because recovering from something like that…

He knows what it’s like.

This thing between the two of you, it means the world to him, but he’s concerned about the damage he’s done. For three months he has been a constant presence in your life and now he’s disappeared when you need him the most. That’s got to hurt.

Maybe it’s for the best. The truth is he doesn’t have anything to give you, his life isn’t his own, it belongs to The Agency. He’s not someone you can build a future with, he’s more likely to end up dead than settle down. Perhaps it’s kinder this way.

When his duffle bag appears he’s grateful because it means he doesn’t have to replace a bunch of his shit. He lives a transient life style but he has a few creature comforts that he prefers to have on hand. He’s looking for the shaving kit, the good one, when he comes across the heated blanket neatly tucked in the top. Part of him dies inside because he thinks that by returning it you’re telling him it’s over, that you don’t want this life with him.  It’s only when he’s packing it away again that the envelope slips out. He sees his name written in your familiar neat scrawl and his thumb chases over the ink.

Nik.

You are the only one that calls him that, to everyone else he’s Sabatino.

This is how it ends, he thinks, not with an argument or a fight but with a letter. He almost doesn’t want to open it, but he does because Sabatino has never shied away from a difficult situation.

When he opens the note, it’s written in Pashto. He has a head for languages, he always has, it’s one of the reasons the CIA recruited him. He remembers the evenings back in Afghanistan you’d spent huddled together over a portable white board while he helped you refresh yourself on the language. You were a little rusty looking to brush up on it, because it had been years since you’d had the opportunity to use it.

He smiles as he reads it, his fingertips tracing over the words.

I love you too.

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StolenMoments!Series Part Five: Gone - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: Sam Hanna)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

Part One: First Date - You and Nik have an unusual first date.

Part Two: Christmas in Afganistan - You and Nik reunite in Afganistan.

Part Three: Yours (NSFW) - Nik and you take the next step in your relationship.

Part Four: Last Words - Nik goes on the hunt after you're taken.

Sam finds you sitting alone on the edge of your bunk, your packed bag resting in the space alongside of you. You don’t look up when he enters, you’re too focused on the plush heated blanket that’s folded neatly upon your lap. Your fingertips toying with the edges of it.

“It was Sabatino’s.” You find yourself telling him. “He lent it to me when one of the generators broke.”

“I know you hate the cold.” He had murmured, his lips ghosting along the line of your jaw as his heated form covered yours.  “And I won’t be here over the next few weeks to keep you warm.”

You had told him that a lifetime ago, back when the two of you were sitting in a car watching Sidorov fuck his mistress. You’d been surprised he remembered. He’d laughed when you’d said that, his nose trailing over yours as he’d whispered.

“I remember everything my girl tells me.”

He’d made love to you that night for the last time. His hands threading through your hair as he kissed you. You’ll never forget the way he looked at you in that moment, like you were the most precious thing in his world, like he loved you more than life itself.

“He’s a good guy.” Sam says as he takes up residence alongside of you, his shoulder nudges against yours. “But you knew that anyway.”

You purse your lips together grimly before you tilt your head to look at him. You look like a horror show. The left side of your face is swollen, marred with hues of purple and blue. Your lip is split, and your right eye is bloodshot, the broken blood vessels stark against the white of your eye. Your nose has been reset by the medic on base and you have cracked ribs from the beating you had taken when the Taliban had first tried to interrogate you.

As soon as you had landed back at base you’d been triaged. Your injuries didn’t warrant a hospital visit. You’d been taken away to the medical tent instead while Sabatino was airlifted to Daoud Khan Military Hospital in Kabal for emergency surgery. The bullet had torn through his back and exited through his chest causing him to bleed internally, his lungs had begun to soak up the blood causing him to choke. It had been fucking devastating to watch, the man you love dying right before your eyes.

“I got word that he made it through the surgery.” Sam says quietly as he leans forward, clasping his hands together. “That man is one tough bastard.”

“He is.” You say with a small smile because the Sabatino you know never quits; it isn’t in his nature. “When can I see him?”

Sam doesn’t say anything and that’s when you realise the real reason he’s here. The words that he’s not saying.

“He’s already gone, isn’t he?” You say raising your eyes towards the ceiling as you inhale deeply.

“Yea.” Sam says quietly. “The CIA closed ranks, he was moved as soon as the surgery was completed. I don’t know where they’ve taken him.”

It’s a blow. Sam sees the impact of it as your grip on the blanket tightens, your knuckles whitening. You haven’t learned yet the sacrifice that comes with being involved with a CIA Officer, but you’re starting to. Their lives, they aren’t their own, they belong The Agency. They go where they’re told and they do the job. Sabatino, he’s an important asset, the connections he has, the operations he’s worked, the shit he knows, they can’t afford for him to be vulnerable. Sam knows it must kill you, it had killed him once upon a time when it happened with Michelle. The worst part is, he doesn’t think you understand what Sabatino was saying in the chopper, how he’s betraying the CIA by giving himself to you.

“You don’t know do you?” Sam says softly. “What he was trying to tell you in the helicopter.”

You shake your head.

He slips into Armenian sometimes when he’s emotional, when he’s in the throes of pleasure and he can’t find the words, he wants to say in English. He whispers them against your skin in the heat of the moment, saying the most beautiful things in a language you don’t understand.

“I love you.” Sam tells you in a low tone. “He was saying I love you.”

It hits you hard because in Sabatino’s final moments that’s what he would have wanted you to know, that he loved you. He had repeated it over and over again until he’d begun to drown on his own blood.

“He doesn’t know…” You trail off, your palms smoothing over the blanket.

“You never told him.” Sam states.

“No.”

Your eyes fucking sting, you pinch your brow to stave off the tears, but it’s been a traumatic twenty-four hours and right now, this conversation it’s more than you can bear. Sam’s hand comes to rest on yours, he squeezes it lightly before he sighs.

“If you go down this path, it’s going to be like this. It’s hard, loving someone like him, there’s going to be compromises, ones you don’t even see coming.” He warns you. You know he’s speaking from experience. His wife Michelle was a CIA operative when they met, she’d given it up when they had decided to start a family. “If this were a normal relationship you’d be going home to your man, he’d be taking care of you, helping you recover but it doesn’t work that way with them. They can’t be there when you need them. It hurts the both of you.”

“Was it worth it?” You ask him. “You and Michelle going through all of that?”

Sam smiles, because the years he’s had with Michelle have been the best ones of his life.

“Yea, but that included a lot of sacrifice on her part.” He tells you with a knowing look because that’s what it takes, commitment, endurance. He knows Sabatino is willing to go the distance, but the question is are you. “If you want this, write him a letter and tuck it in the folds of that blanket, sooner or later his belongings will find their way back to him.”

He raises to his feet, his hand coming to clasp your shoulder.

“You need to choose quickly.” He tells you, his eyes meeting yours. “Our ride will be here in an hour. We’re taking you home.”

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[bullet-prooflove]

Hi. This is an ask for Vostanik Sabatino ❤️ again. The prompt is: 65. You taught me some lessons, those are my blessings. Thank you so much.

References to future series: The 3 Times Sabatino Tried to Propose and the 1 Time He Did

Nik had never realised how closed off he’d been. Not until he met you. He’d put on a good front, the Sabatino persona you’d call it, but he hadn’t let anyone get to know him on any in-depth level.

Not until the evening he found himself sitting in a car with you during a stakeout shooting the shit. He’d never told anyone about his fascination with true crime podcasts, the fact he got hooked after Serial and then tumbled down a rabbit hole. He liked investigating along with the narrator, hearing the story unfold.

That’s the night he remembers how to laugh again, how to share a part of himself with someone else. His job has made him guarded, mistrustful. He has no family left; his friends fell away because he was barely in the country and his colleagues…

The less they know about him the better.

It isn’t until he’s in his hotel room in Washington after Synder’s death that he realises just how disappointed he is to miss that second date with you. When he reflects on the past few years, and he realises just how lonely his existence has become.

It’s in Afghanistan that he learns to love again. You teach him that he’s worthy of affection, that he deserves to be looked after, cared for. With you he becomes Nik again, the man that enjoys singing rock music when he cooks and books that challenge his thinking. It’s during those months that he learns that there’s room for more than just Sabatino, there’s space for Nik too.

Now as he sits in Deek’s bar, sipping a beer and watching your fingers play along the buttons of the jukebox he can’t believe just how far he’s come. These days he has a job he loves on US soil, friends that he trusts with his life. He’s singing again, playing gigs in Hollywood, recording with his band. He’s built a life that he never would have dreamed of and he knows that it’s because of you.

@kmc1989 @thiashazzywriting @words-and-seeds

[bullet-prooflove]

StolenMoments!Series Part Four: Last Words - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

You’ve been in a relationship with Sabatino for three months when you are captured by insurgents outside of a village near Khost. It’s a flurry of stolen moments, nights spent tangled up in each other whilst Granger’s off base, secret smiles when you run into each other, small gestures meant to make each other’s lives easier. It’s the happiest that Sabatino has been in a long time.

Your intelligence network has been running for over two months when it happens. There’s a steady stream of information flowing through all the appropriate channels and the intel, it’s good. The task force has managed to track down several terrorist cells, striking a hard blow to Taliban efforts in the immediate area. Sabatino thinks that’s the reason they came after you, they want the names of your assets. You would rather die than give up that information. It’s Sabatino’s worst nightmare, because he remembers what they did to Sanders, he knows they’ll do worse to you.

They have half a day on Sabatino by the time he finds out that you’re missing. He’s spent a week out in the mountains, searching the caves for a guy they believe is hiding out there when he calls to check in with Granger. When he gets the news, it feels like his heart stops in his chest, the oxygen rushes out of his lungs and for a minute he can’t breathe.

“You need to come back in.” Granger tells him as he holds onto the sat phone so tightly, he hears the plastic creak.

“No.” Sabatino tells Granger, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m close to the location she was taken. I can catch up with them.”

“You’ve been out there over a week. Come back in, refuel. That’s an order.” Granger barks and Sabatino, he doesn’t give a shit because as far as he’s concerned Granger’s not his boss, he has no authority over him. Even if he was, that wouldn’t stop him.

“And lose more time? I don’t think so.” He hangs up on Granger before tucking the sat phone back into his pocket. He does a mental inventory of his supplies, considers the items he has on him, what he can harvest from the land. It gets sparse when it comes to higher up in the mountains, but he’ll handle that when he gets to it.

He manages to track the group into the Kush, submitting coordinates as often as he can to Granger. Each time the other man tries to order him back and each time he refuses. By now your team are already on route and Sabatino is trying to give them the best chance he can of catching up because from what he can see of the convoy, he’s going to need the manpower.

They’re moving fast towards the Pakistan border and if he has any hope of stopping them, he’s going to need back up because if they get you over there, you’re as good as dead.

Things turn to shit when he ends up in a skirmish with a small splinter group. He takes a bullet, it’s a through and through, transecting the muscle in his left bicep. It hurts like a fucker but it’s nothing more than a flesh wound. The problem is it won’t stop bleeding and he has nothing to stem it with. He leaves a trail of blood and three dead bodies in his wake.

It’s not long after that that your team catches up with him, the only weapon he has on him is a combat knife, he almost takes out Callen when he sneaks up on him in the brush.

“Did you see her?” Sam asks him as he bandages the wound in Sabatino’s left arm.

“Yea.” He says, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He’d caught a glimpse of you through his binoculars when he was up on the ridge. Your hands were bound in front of you, your face bloodied, smeared with dirt and marred with bruising. The beating has gone further than just your face, he could tell from the stiffness as you moved. The look in your eyes, it’s furious and fierce. You still have that fire in you despite the fact you know exactly what awaits you. “She’s still fighting.”

When they find the convoy, they’re presented with a problem. Their group is outgunned, outmanned and extremely low on resources. The Taliban outnumber them seven to one and Sabatino is wounded. Their only saving grace is when Deek’s comes through with another option. He has a prisoner they might be interested in, the father of the man that leads the group.

An exchange is negotiated.

You for the father.

When the helicopter lands with their hostage, Granger tries to shove him onto it so he can receive medical treatment.

“Sit this one out, you’re injured.”

“You know what she means to me.” Sabatino snarls at the other man, jabbing his finger towards the group. He knows all of those late-night trysts haven’t gone unnoticed, that the Acting Director understands it’s a lot more than just two agents blowing off steam. “Let me do the walk, instead of risking one of your assets.”

He makes a good point. Sabatino is expendable at least in the eyes of NCIS. If he dies here today, there’s no one to mourn him, they don’t even have to bring his body back. The CIA will claim he never existed.

It’s Sabatino that walks their prisoner into the centre of the clearing. He keeps his face impassive, his gaze fixed on you as they march forward. It’s worse than he thought, one of your eyes is bloodshot, your nose is broken. He can hear the wheeze in your chest, see the shortness of breath. He thinks they may have cracked a rib or two when they beat you. It breaks his fucking heart because he never wanted any of this for you.

When they shove you from behind, you stumble. He catches you in his arms, ignoring the pain that tears at his left bicep as he supports your weight. He wraps his good arm around your shoulders, clasping you close, tucking you into his side before he leads you towards the safety of the chopper.

It’s only as he turns his back that he hears the click of the pistol. This is the other reason it had to be him, he knows the Taliban can never let an asset like you go, not even for the father of their leader. The damage you’ve done already, it’s too great. The damage you will do if they let you go…

It would be catastrophic to their organisation.

He hauls you against him, shielding you from harm with his body as the gunshot explodes through the air, ringing in his ears. He feels the bullet searing through his flesh, the impact smashing into him.

It’s a blur after that, a haze of motion in the midst of the agony that rips through his chest. Every time he blinks the scene changes. The sky, the rotors of the helicopter, and then your face. His gaze locks on you, his hand trembling as he seeks out yours. You clasp it tightly and he smiles despite the fact he can taste copper on his tongue. He wants to tell you that it’s ok, that this was meant to happen. So long as you’re alive and safe it doesn’t matter.

He opens his mouth to speak but his brain can’t form the words in English, so he slips back into his mother’s tongue, the one he was raised on.

“Yes sirum yem k’ez,” he whispers in Armenian.

Your forehead comes to rest upon his, his fingertips ghosting along the line of your cheek as the darkness twinges at the edges of his vision. He tries to hold on, he really does but that exhaustion it overwhelms him, dragging him under.

“Yes sirum yem k’ez,” he repeats as he slips away. “Yes sirum yem k’ez,”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

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