#and it’s strange thinking that this afternoon could have ended up in an emergency visit but instead I got to catch the bus under a big blue

[wutheringhestia]

standing at the bus stop with the winter sun, listening to northbound by grace petrie, was a moment from today that was so <3

[divinehedons]

call it fate, call it karma

next: hard to explain | masterlist

pairing: bd!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.3k

summary: it’s summer. and on a weekend visit to your college beau, you meet a texan contractor with wandering eyes. what he sees is what he wants. what happens if he wants you?

warnings: this is a dark, explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact. big, girthy age gap (reader is in her early twenties, joel is in his late 40s to early 50s), masturbation, possible dubious consent, explicit p-in-v sex, fingering, cheating(? but it's mutual HAHAHA). please let me know if i missed anything!

reblogs and comments are much appreciated, please let me know what you think!

Finals, madness, nights of mindless regurgitating, and finally, peace. Emerging from your last exam and into the allure of summer break, you try and picture the weekend you had planned with Christopher: a weekend at his father's house, with the promise of a pool and actually, finally spending time together, and driving you home by Monday while he returns to his mother's place.

The two of you pull into Texas, discussing what to have for lunch, whether or not you should bring some for his father. "It'll be nice, no?" you tell him as you add the extra box of pizza. "And hey, if he doesn't want it, let's devour it over movies in your room." He smiles at you, and you ruffle his hair just as he parks in front of the familiar house.

When you're reintroduced to the older mister Miller, you see him at the tail-end of a phone call just as your presence is announced. "You've met before, we had her at Thanksgiving," Christopher reminds, carrying your bags in. 

You hear a woman's voice, just slightly, from the phone (... mean it, no strange women…), mister Miller looking up with a rushed, "I got it, I got it…" before finally setting the phone down. He offers you a warm smile, nodding in recognition before welcoming his son with a shoulder squeeze. He says your name, and you try not to smile at the way he says it with that almost-indistinguishable drawl of his. "Still not tired of him, sweet pea?"

You remember that Thanksgiving. How you and mister Miller bonded over when you drove Chris's car back and panicked over a flat tire you caused while he was off with some buddies. You bonded because he taught you how to fix a tire that afternoon, him laughing at your small hands struggling with such big boy paraphernalia as you coined it.

You smile back at him and shake his hand. "Thanks for letting me stay over the weekend, sir," you say just as your partner disappears upstairs to set down your things. Just then, he tuts, taking a slice out of one of the pizza boxes, along with a newly opened bottle of beer.

"Told ya, doll. It's just Joel. Don't have too much fun, yeah?"

—

Joel didn't mean to stare when he last saw you. When you were kneeling over, lowering the jack after he taught you how to change a tire. You were in your colleague sweater, but your pants… dear God, your pants. Your pants that perfectly hugged the curve of your ass struck him dumb. He barely managed to shake himself out of it to tell you that youbdid a good job.

But since then, he had been imagining your ass. It's as if the sight of a college girl turned him right back to a drooling, horny teenager that never had enough. He did keep his hands to himself, never making a move. And he would've been happy to let you and Christopher be if he didn't start picturing you in those lonely nights when the house is quiet and he has his cock in his hand.

But it was impossible.

Just the thought of your ass cheeks red, bearing a handprint that perfectly fit the contours of his own hands, your curves, your flesh, the smell of your skin— such was the callings of his desire as he bursts, imagining that glass-eyed look on your face if you were taking his cock.

There was no shame in it, when he did finally give in to his desires. How could he not? You had fuck eyes for days, eyes that, if he was being completely honest, would damn God himself to the very gates of hell. There was no shame, too, when he realized just how much his own son wasn't taking care of you.

So seeing you again, now sprawled in a lovely little swimsuit as his own son holds you by your waist as you wade into the pool. He watches from the kitchen, knowing his looks would go unnoticed in the shade. It was burning outside, and it was still Friday. The street was quiet with everyone still away for school and work. He just couldn't stay away from you. When Christopher told him you were with him, he had cancelled plans, even work, on a Friday, under the pretense of bad health and multiple other excuses. He knows, for a fact, that he'd take every chance to see those fuck eyes of yours even if you never asked.

He knows, too, if he was getting you in his bed, he had to be creative about it.

Still, Christopher could be a little more discreet. Instead, there you were, nodding to him as he corners you in his own pool in his own house, reaching down to pull your bottoms aside to fuck up into you. He's gotten to know your quirks enough. How your creased brows indicate your frustration. Or how your shoulders tense from apprehension. And right there, where Christopher attempts to find his own orgasm without even a care in the world for your own, you're so frigid he would think you bathed in the Arctic.

The charade doesn't last long. Three minutes, by his count, until you're pulling away, swimming to the nearest floatie to lounge while Christopher tires himself out with a few laps. It's then that Joel pretends to swoop in, bringing out a few drinks in service of the two of you, slipping on some sunglasses so you wouldn't notice him ogling your willing body as you thank him.

"Got you that grape drink you liked last time, doll. Help yourself to more in the fridge if you want it."

"Thanks m-" he lowers his glasses to playfully raise his brow at you, "J-Joel. Thanks, Joel…" He flashes you a smirk, placing his glasses back on as he seats himself on the nearest spot, pretending to be in need of some sun.

"Chris, your mom's waiting for you to call," he reminds his son, leaning back as he sips from his beer. Just then, your beau sits up, wiping his mouth as he stood, beelining for the nearest door inside.

"Thanks for reminding, dad!"

Alone, with you, like this, Joel notices the way you rubbed your thighs together, the way you sighed after each sip. The hidden frustration as you floated about on his pool, displayed like a delectable centerpiece. It was clear as day: you didn’t get to cum and it’s bothering you. It took a few more minutes before he spoke.

"So why'd you fake it, sweet pea?"

The question comes to you out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you look at him with those wide, bewildered doe eyes as you immediately stammer to try and find the right words. You try and play it off with a chuckle, but you feel your cheeks warm up. "What- wha…"

He chuckles himself, sipping from his bottle before leaning back with crossed arms. "It was three minutes of him wriggling, darlin'. No one was going to cum from that." He watches you sit up completely, every fiber at rest jumping into action.

"You saw that?" Your sweet voice, Joel noted, trembling from what he only assumes as embarrassment riddled with shame. "I… I-" You clear your throat momentarily, biting your lip gently before sighing, turning over. “You kind of answered your own question, Joel.” There is a beat of silence, palpable and tense as you feel his gaze wash over your vulnerable body.

The two of you hear Christopher, blundering his way back to the pool now that the phone call was out of his way. Joel sighs,getting up with a stretch as he passes by you again to disappear into the house.

“Our secret, doll. I’m nice that way.”

–

Over dinner, Joel speaks to you with a smile, perhaps he was feigning interest. Perhaps he truly was interested. Whatever it was, you feel the palpable weight in the air at the knowledge of what you shared with the older Miller. Christopher, clueless as he is, spends most of dinner with his hand on your thigh, chiming in every now and then between bites.

“So what was the exam you took before the two of you drove here?” Joel had been asking while you sipped through your drink, your brows raised as you smiled.

“It was some English Literature course," you said, meek as ever, managing a small smile up at him as he hums with interest.

"Ah. So that Shakesword guy or something? What did'ya like from him?"

"Shakespeare, actually… And I loved Macbeth."

"When we met, she was nose deep in Hamlet, if I remembered right." Christopher soothed his hand up and down your thigh, to which you nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about Macbeth."

You take a deep breath, feeling both eyes on you as you carefully swallowed down the lump in your throat. "It's the usual things. War, misery, curses, witches. But Lady Macbeth… that was where it was." He tilts his head to the side, nodding at you to continue. "She demanded divinity to transform her into a man. To take up the mantle from her weak husband. To take charge."

He chuckles softly, almost teasingly and knowingly, even. "Shit, doll, didn't think you had that many words in ya."

The rest of dinner goes by in relative ease, with Christopher letting you know he's meeting with some buddies tomorrow after he drops you off in the center of town. He promises, however, that he'll pick you up at three in the afternoon.

As you lay in bed that night, you glance haphazardly at your phone as it lights up in the late night silence. A message from Joel, a contact you saved under Mr. Miller back when you met over Thanksgiving. The message was simple enough.

Sweet dreams, Lady Macbeth.

—

Three in the afternoon on Saturday, you're seated where Christopher says he'll pick you up, bearing a bag for the sweater you bought him. You messaged him fifteen minutes earlier. On my way to the bench, bubba! Without a response, you think he's driving.

Above you, dark clouds seem to gather where once it was only bright summer sun. You quietly grip your bags tighter as you count in your head. He'll be here soon… I'll be out of the rain in no time.

You quietly count down the seconds. Six hundred. Five hundred ninety-nine. Five hundred ninety-eight…

Three P.M. turns to four, then four-thirty. You message Christopher two more times.

It might be raining soon, I have an umbrella!

Make sure you're not in the rain too much!

You stand under the umbrella, pacing every now and then, trying not to appear skittish, specially when the thunder and lightning began to roll across the sky, making the hair on your arms stand on edge. It was troubling, to be outside during a thunderstorm like this.

You count in increments of six hundreds. Ten minutes pass by again. Then twenty. Then thirty.

A particularly raucous lightning makes you jump out of your skin, and you swallow your pride, dialing the next person nearest you. The nearest person you'd think would answer.

And he does, in a record of two rings. He says your name and you audibly sigh in relief. "What's the matter, doll?"

"Joel, uhm… has Christopher answered your calls? We were supposed to meet at three-"

"Christ, doll, it's storming. He still hasn't gotten to you?"

You hesitate. You wonder if you were going to be too harsh on your beau if you admitted he wasn't. Just then, another strike of lightning has you confessing. "He… he wasn't answering my texts, I don't know where he is."

You hear him cuss at the other end, along with the sound of his keys and his heavy steps.

"Stay put for me, sweet pea. Where are you waiting?"

You tell him, and you don't even count to three hundred before he's pulling up in front of you, opening the passenger door and yelling at you to get in.

"Christ, doll, you're freezing! How long were you out there?" You feel his gaze on yours as you attempt to say your thanks, still visibly shaking from being out in the rain so long, combined with the fear of lightning. He immediately reaches back to retrieve the towels he had brought exactly for this scenario, covering you up in them as you finally manage. “Thanks, Joel. D-did… did Chris leave a word, or anything? I’ve been trying to reach him…”

You don’t miss the way he tries to hold back a smirk, buckling your seatbelt as he sighs. “He said he’s drinking with some buddies, doll. But I thought he already told you. He didn’t mention you’d be needin’ a ride or anythin’.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “Actually, it sounded really loud when he called." You look right back at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you processed his words.

Oh. Oh.

“H-he probably just forgot. Or something,” you try to justify as Joel begins to steer the two of you through the storm and back to his house. “I just hope he doesn’t get sick from the weather or anything…”

“God, sweet pea, you’re just so goddamn sweet even if he’s an asshole, huh?”

It shuts you up for the rest of the ride. He escorts you inside, telling you he’ll hand you a set of clothes. That you should be rinsing off immediately. You do not see the way he stares at your soaked shirt, your skin so fucking close and yet so far. You obey, so quickly that it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. It was so natural for you, and it makes him absolutely feral. Most of all, you’re so vulnerable right now. And it hatches a wretched plan in his head before he could stop it.

He takes a shirt and boxers from his own closet, under the guise of wanting to keep yours and Christopher's stuff private. And he opens the door, expecting to see you mostly naked. Oh, God, sweet pea, I'm so sorry! Feign innocence, caring and comforting.

What he didn't expect was you seated on the counter, a photo on the screen of your phone. One of his son, your beau, holding another woman that was so clearly not you, posted by some friend. He didn't expect to see you teary-eyed, cheeks bright red as you hiccup.

"I… I guess that's why… he wouldn't pick up…"

He sighs, tilts his head to the side. "Oh, sweetheart…" He rushes to you, embracing you gently, damp clothes and all, into his warm arms as he shushes you gently. You try to resist him when he begins to help you with your clothes. You try to resist him when he offers tenderness. But it's all so rare, so careful, with such gentleness that you find yourself agreeing with anything he asked. Let me draw you a bath, doll, meaning he'll watch you soak. Let me help you with that, meaning he wanted to be the one to strip you down.

"He never treated you like this, doll, did he?" The look on your face is enough to answer him. He clicks his tongue, leaning his ear close as he slips your unclasped bra down your shivering frame. "Oh, darlin'. Let me show you how a lady should be treated."

It's how you end up in the warm bath he had prepared, settled between his legs with his mouth on your neck, his hands running up and down your sides until you were shaking and giggling from the touch. "Pretty li'l thing like you shouldn't be neglected. He's a damn fool."

He begins to ask for things while he's already doing them. He drifts his hands to your breasts and whispers, "Okay if I touched ya like this?" He pinches your hardened nipples and says, "Feels good, doesn't it, darlin'?" You wriggle in his grasp, ticklish and alight, tethered in the receeding waves of emotion as he draws you into some semblance of relaxation, smoothing out each tense muscle as he speaks to you with such unabashed softness.

Your first moan escapes you before you could stop it. One hand flies to your mouth as you immediately attempt to pull away from Joel. And yet, he holds you, chuckling right against your ear that you feel the smirk on his face spreading against the curve of your ear.

"I bet he never made you feel that good, baby doll."

You try and argue, left stammering just as his left hand holds your left leg up against your torso, his right hand moving down to cup you by your cunt. You feel him hardening behind you, pressed against the small of your back, grinding against your skin there. He kisses the back of your ear, chuckling as you struggle to hold back the rest of your moans. "Come on, doll, make some noise for me… otherwise, we'll be here all night, because I'm not stoppin' 'til you use that fuckin' mouth of yours to prove I'm better than him.

He dreamt of this. Your willing frame whining and moaning from every touch he gives you. You could not even conceal the fact that you were on edge and you were wet. He spreads you with his fingers, pausing as he nibbles on your earlobe before finally, finally sinking his fingers right where you're pink and lovely and warm. The fact that you felt bursting from just two fingers had you shivering with excitement, a surprised squeal escaping your mouth.

"J-Joel… Joel…"

"You can take it, sweet pea, stay close to me…" His left arm relaxes its hold on your left leg, drifting closer to begin rubbing soft, languid circles right on your aching clit as you lean your head back and sigh dreamily, feeling that familiar ascent into almost-forgotten bliss. It was something you only felt when you fucked yourself. It was something that eluded you in your sex life. You feel Joel's eyes on your face; when your features contort with the pleasure, when your hands palm at his beard, pulling at him needily to plant a kiss to your wanton mouth.

It's almost too quickly that you're cresting, feeling your sides burn from want as you grind into his hands in an effort to cum faster. And just when it was three seconds away, he tears his hands off of you, revelling in the sounds of your protest, your whining as you looked up at him. Already, too, he's getting out of the tub, draining the water as he picks you up in his arms.

"I know, I know what you need…" Still, you whine, thighs rubbing together. "But if I'm making you cum, sweet pea, I'm doin' it right by making you cum all over my sheets. Got it?" You nod, wrapping your arms around him as he carries you, bath water dripping and all, taking you to his bedroom with his slept-in sheets and oscillating fan to the side. He lays you among the sheets, smirking as he trailed one hand down your front, against your skin with butterfly caresses. Like an observer in some strange gallery, the fount of art and beauty exhibited for his own decrepit sensual pleasure.

“Y’wanna tell me what’cha want, dollface?” You try. You try to look away from his fingertips running up and down your stomach, knowing the power beneath that skin. You feel the restraint on his face, along with that smirk you just can’t seem to wipe off of him. “Yeah… you’re just absolutely desperate for me, no?”

“Want you… please…”

“Where d’ya want me? Here?” He drifts his hand to your neck, giving the slightest squeeze. You whine, and he drifts his touch to your willing mouth. Two fingers, delving into the warm wetness of your tongue, the softness of the inside of your cheeks. “Certainly not here… you’re certainly not mouthy.” Then he drifts his touch to your stomach, drifting lower, lower, and lower… “That’s it. I’m getting warmer, yeah?” He chuckles, his free hand moving to turn your face towards him as he looks at those softened features, your willingness laid bare before him. “What do you want from me? My cock? My mouth?”

It’s so much attention, all-encompassing, and all at once. You wonder if his touch strikes like lightning. And if it didn’t, then why does he make you quake to your very bones? He continues his teasing, pushing and prodding at you so closely where you want him, but never close enough. The charade continues before you eventually find the courage, eventually pushed to the brink of such wanton need.

“Both.” You grit your teeth, feeling the warmth coating your cheeks as you whine. “Both, Joel, please.”

He chuckles darkly, rewarding you with a bruising kiss, beard digging into your cheek, your chin, your body spread eagle and willing. “That’s a good, fuckin’ girl…” He rewards you by settling between your legs, spreading you wide open, and fucking his tongue on your weeping cunt. His growls emanate against your willing flesh, making you tremble, the vibrations otherworldly as he pushes you right through your first orgasm that weekend. One, you hoped, that wouldn’t be the last. “You’re so fuckin’ easy and he can’t even make you cum? Fuck, doll…” You squeal, fingers tangling into his hair as your hips grind, chasing waves of that sweet release until your eyes roll back, your body surrenders, and you are left limp with from his minstrations.

“We’re not yet done, doll. Think y’can handle more of me?”

It’s when you see that dark look on his face, A shadow hard to miss once you saw it. He kisses his way up to your face, wrapping your legs around his waist. He does not waste time, immediately pinning you down so he can fuck his hard cock into you, letting your moans and whines echo into the empty house. The stretch is glorious, his cock hitting places you did not know could be reached before. And all the while, he’s watching your face and your body contorting to the sensations you could not explain. Body electric magnified, body electric divine. He thrusts once, twice– and already, you were reeling in another orgasm.

He calls you beautiful, and he makes you understand that you are– that the iniquity of others was not your doing. That you deserved to feel good and light and wonderful. All while he sinks his teeth against your shoulder, your arm, sucking hickeys throughout the expanse of your skins, marks you would not be able to explain. It would have continued that way, and it should have, had Joel not heard the crunching of gravel on his driveway.

He pauses, shushes you gently, cupping your face as you whined desperately, clawing against his bare chest as he clears your hair from your face. “You’re gonna have to keep quiet f’me, doll. Think ya can do that?” You nod desperately, taking one hand to press against your mouth, anything to make him move again and give you one more release. One you were so desperately close to. “You don’t want him to hear us, did’ya?”

It’s when you realize, when you recognize the familiar heavy footsteps of the man who abandoned you, the lover who should be doing this. You looked up at Joel with a panicked gaze, his palm pressing harder against your mouth when you began to make some noise.

“I don’t have the patience to tell ya again. Don’t make this harder for yourself, baby doll.”

It’s when he fucks you with abandon, barely concealing his own moans as you tremble in his hold, locking your legs around his waist as he thrusts. Despite only one or two light groans escaping him, you see how tense his jaw had become, clenching, grinding beneath the skin. You know he’s close, and yet he waits for you, reaching down to rub your aching little clit. He rubs you repeatedly until the riptide of pleasure swallows you whole. Your eyes gloss over, a singular, weak whimper escaping through your self-censorship, your warm breath absorbed by Joel’s palm.

Just a few moments more, and his cock buries deep into you, silencing himself by sinking his teeth into the curve of your shoulder. It is a way to silence himself, to relax, to completely surrender his orgasm to you. His warm spend fills your aching walls, his body falling against yours as he sighs.

Just then, you hear, right across the hall. You hear Christopher. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He steps out into the hallway. It’s followed with him raising his voice. (Hey dad! Have you heard from her?) Joel manages a soft chuckle into your ear. “Fucking asshole, no?” he whispers against you as he takes a deep breath.

“Thought’cha were meetin’ her at three?” he manages, and you’re shocked at how composed he was still was, and yet how possessive his hold on you had become.

If he gets to have you for five more minutes, he’ll take it. The truth was, it felt like you belonged right there in his bed, sheltering his cum within your warm walls as you demand affection, soft in aftercare. Call it fate, even if it’s such a loose term. Were you really fated for him when he took you for himself?

When Christopher leaves, he chuckles, collapsing against you again as his breath escapes him in ragged increments. You fall asleep almost immediately, as if you found home in his week-old sheets.

Call it fate, call it karma. He’d still fuck you again if he had the choice.

[jdeko]

Goodbye Precious Friend

I had to put Rarity to sleep monday morning. Some time after 7:30am saturday a tumor inside her that we never knew of ruptured and over the course of the weekend she slowly bled into her abdomen based on what the emergency vet said and her regular vet agreed off her charts that seemed correct. friday night after fighting and losing her fight against being traumatized by fireworks from some asshole purposefully lighting off a roman candle right across a residential street from us just to laugh at her reaction. I could see on her face how hard she was trying to be brave but after a half dozen industrial fireworks being shot off from within a square mile from us she turned around and galloped home. we tried again after i took a shower but one firework in the distance sent her right back inside. saturday morning before bed we zoomed on our 2 mile walk, her going like a narrow wiggly freight train. but by the time i woke up that afternoon she was getting lethargic. sunday morning after work we went on a slow walk where I did my best to keep her pace, even learning to reverse my method of holding the leash she her end stayed slack and any tension was between my hand and my waist. sunday she rebounded seemingly completely when we had chicken, her favorite food, for dinner. she was wiggling and her nub going along with her eating her dog food. but monday morning after work she was extremely lethargic and upon calling her vet they said to rush her to the emergency clinic where we learned the bad news. i've spent the last two days crying my eyes out, but at least as of writing this having her visit me twice tonight in moments where i nodded off i feel a lot more at peace. I was kicking myself for all the "what ifs" and failings I felt I'd made. She always looked grumpy under sedation so as she was slipping away from blood loss before she even got put to sleep her face was breaking my heart. I wanted so badly to just see her happy and wiggly one last time to know she wasn't mad at me and she knew i loved her and am proud of her. So I think God made me conk out for a second or two twice so she could tell me to eat the yogurt I regretted not sharing with her and after I did I once again slipped under long enough to see her wiggling at me happily and that really set my heart at ease. I love you Rarity, you were my Precious Pointer, my favorite Strange Creature, and the Silliest of Billies. Please wait for me until I can jiggle your waddles and knead your cheeks again. I'm glad our reunion will seem much faster for you than it will for me. I hope Marble, Penel, Bink and you are getting along well. Thank you for being my Narrow Friend.

[sm0lb0dygaiii]

Deukae with their sunbae (University AU)

Sunbae (선배) : a Korean term which means senior or elder (Professionally)

Hoobae (후배) : a Korean term which means junior or younger (Professionally)

JiU

- Kim Minji had heard good things about you on the campus

- She loved how much you are alike in a few things and at the same time you were different : you are a ray of sunshine and you take care of others in your own way

- JiU sees you as a sunbae who likes to help and make friends, and for that she admires you

- When she can she tests her cheesy jokes on you and loves to see your reaction

- You complement each other so well, you're secretly the mainstay of each other's lives

- She really meets you for the first time during a student dinner, you sat next to her and she was surprised at your silence and you didn't introduce yourself to her (you're shy) It's when people start to leave one by one that Minji decides to take the first step and ask you for your number

“ Sunbae, can I have your number if I ever need help ? ”

SuA

- Kim Bora was very famous at university despite being relatively new, even the sunbae liked to hang out with her

- She was the loud, high-energy junior and you were the low-key, quiet senior

- The first meeting between SuA and you... was very strange and awkward

- She hit your ass while you were walking towards the cafeteria, thinking you were her friend

- Since that day the young woman kept following you everywhere to apologize and offer you gifts

- And it is you who decide one day to stop her in the hallways to ask her for her number and her address so that you can give her back all the items she has given you

“ If you wanted to hang out with me you didn't have to make such an excuse ”

Siyeon

- Lee Siyeon had met you before entering university, it was during the open house, you were handing out flyers for your club

- You were the reason why the wolfy decided to go to the same university

- Luckily for her, your license didn't have many students so she was able to spend time with you

- As Siyeon came a lot to the extra class, you thought she was having difficulty so you offered to give her extra classes on free days

- You met in a cafe near campus on Saturday mornings to review exam papers and Siyeon came to see you at your club in the afternoon, like a routine

- It's seeing you so focused and serious that she couldn't resist complimenting you

“ You looked so cool in a lab coat, sunbae ! ”

Handong

- Handong was an exchange student from China so the girl quickly caught everyone's attention

- But the person who caught her attention was you, you were in charge of the visit

- She loved how considerate and caring you were with her, you even learned Mandarin for her

- She was taking advantage of you showing her around the campus to cling to your arm with an innocent and lost look so that you could spend more time with her

- She was nicknamed Ice Princess but with you she kept warming her heart for you

- The most difficult thing is how blind you are to her attempts to flirt, but she loves to see you confused and blushing

“ How about going to a cat cafe ? We could adopt a kitten together ”

Yoohyeon

- The girl is so clumsy and as a sunbae you end up cleaning up all her mess

- Yooh spends her time playing it cool with you but she always ends up being embarrassed by herself and running away claiming an emergency

- Yoohyeon often tries to impress you, whether it's with her talent for languages ​​or the fact that she loves to show you her level at your favorite video games

- The thing she likes the most about you : that you show yourself so proud of her when she passes her projects or her tests

- You have this habit of stroking Yoohtony's hair when she acts enthusiastically

- She keeps coming to talk to you since the first time you met and you always listen to her

“ Sunbae would you like to hang out near the Han river ? I—i mean you, me and Pie ! Not just the two of us as a date...you know ! ”

Dami

- Let's be honest in the dynamic of this duo, Dami looks more like your sunbae than you being her

- Dami is a rather calm and mature hoobae, she is often with you with the paperwork because you are often lost

- She takes care of you even though you don't want to, you feel bad for being a senior who can't take care of her juniors properly

- Dami is always there to make you understand that you are doing a good job and that you also need to rest

- All your friends think you look like a married couple

- But when she can, the panda clings to you when she needs a hug and just wants to stay with you to relax

“ We can finish the documents later, lay down and rest sunbae, you deserve me to take care of you ”

Gahyeon

- She behaves like a baby with you, she just wants you to take care of her, to compliment her and be able to hug you when she is sad

- When she found out you were the leader of the math club, she signed up right away

- Everyone on campus could tell that Gahyeon has a crush on you, to everyone you look like a knight every time you take care of your hoobae

- Gahyeon is easily jealous when she sees you hanging out with other students her age, she doesn't like to be like that but she wants her to be the only junior you take care of

- When she feels bad about her weight you are always there to remind her how perfect and beautiful she already is and that she doesn't need to worry because you love her just the way she is (she almost thought you were making her a declaration of love)

- Baby Fox loves when you tease her and she loves teasing you, she just wants to spend as much time as possible with you

“ Sunbae I made cookies do you want some ? Oh it's Valentine's Day today...I didn't know that at all ”

————

Coming very soon :

- 8th member AU

- Gahyeon x reader

Maybe :

- Dreamcatcher x reader (series)

[heiressofdoodles]

Journal of the Last Prophet (Part Two)

November Seventeenth, 1635

I was summoned to the Queen’s Court yesterday afternoon. Non negotiable, even in the case of emergencies. If she had more honesty with herself and with us, she would’ve sent her guards to drag me to the castle at swordpoint. Being in her presence is sickening, and even though I was allowed to bring my spouses here, I… was unable to sleep last night. The anxiety was so intense, I felt ill just attempting to sit up. I was dreading the idea that the second I closed my eyes, her guards would break down the door, and throw me into a cell… or worse…

I’ve… heard stories of a place in the castle… Dull Glass. You can use it to travel across Wonderland if you know how to use it, but… if you aren’t careful… it’s a never ending maze… What’s worst of all, again I’ve only heard stories about Dull Glass, is that if you are not of sound mind or are hiding dark secrets, even if you don’t know those secrets exist, it will haunt you. Follow you, chase you relentlessly, stalking you until they break you… figuratively or literally… or until you find the way out. I don’t want to find out if those stories are true. There… is not much I can do against the Queen. No matter how much I want to…

The sun is rising as I write this. I just hope they make hot chocolate or coffee here to help me feel more awake…

It was… not a pleasant visit, I must say. She was so calm and friendly to us when the rest of the court had arrived. Somnia was even joking with us a bit… in her own twisted way, of course. Taunting me for the curse she forced upon me… After lunch, she had invited me into her office. Still, she was calm… right up until she had dismissed my spouses and her guards. The moment those doors were closed, her needlessly cruel and sadistic tendencies were on full display. For one, she had… a strange box in front of me, just sitting on the desk. When my curiosity had gotten the best of me, I saw there was a strange, soft blue, whispy pearl looking thing in the glass box. I knew what it was before she had even said anything. 

“So, how is your situation going in Tarot Town, anyways? Everyone is happy and content?” It was sickening to me that she could talk to me as if there was nothing wrong; as if she hadn’t stolen my voice from me. I tried to give her the best answer, and she just laughed at me. “I’m still surprised they keep reelecting you as Mayor when you sound so pathetic.” I said nothing… What was I meant to say? She just… stared. “I’m certain you’ve noticed this little case on my desk. Would you like to know what it is?” That smile… How could someone be so wicked…?

She… I don't know how, but with a snap of her fingers, a soft, red glow appeared, and… I had my voice back; the glass box was empty. I could speak again. I could genuinely speak, and not just in those strange phrases. Real words and real sentences again. I had been dreaming of this day, the moment that I’d be able to speak normally again. I even had a plan of what I’d say… I’d tell my spouses that I love them. But I highly doubt I’ll be able to do even that before she reverses the spell again… Trapped… in this one room with the person that had done so much to people that only wanted what was right… She certainly was expecting me to be at my nonexistent feet and begging for her mercy and forgiveness. When I did nothing of the sort, she seemed more frustrated and angry.

I tried to block it all out… Her anger, her hatred, and the threats… but nothing I could do really… helped… After a while of failed negotiations, I… seem to have worn down her, because, she… did exactly as I feared she would. Our meeting was over, and she had stolen my voice again. I was just as ashamed of facing my family as I was… when this curse came into effect. And to think that we’re trapped here in the Card Castle until the Queen dismisses us… I just want to go home… But I think that the Queen ordered at least two of her soldiers to stay posted outside my bedroom… I can hear them talking through the door, and the windows are locked. I don’t want to die here.

January Twentieth, 1640

The weather has been a bit clearer lately; we’ve had a few days of blizzards and snow which had snowed most of us inside. I’ve been going through the town as I usually do now, checking with every family as I go. Sadly, I don’t have time to socialize with all of them, but it’s certainly better than not having anything. Quite a number of families were glad to hear that the storm had cleared, and not just because they needed a break from their families or needed some more food. I just hope the grocery store didn’t lose power.

I heard stories when I was a child of someone called the Snow Queen. She’s somewhat of the physical embodiment of winter with all the metaphors and characteristics of its hostile nature. Lonely and cruel, with a never ending hunger for power and a thirst for violence. Despite this, I’ve also heard tales of sympathy, calmness and even friendliness to those that respect her and her rule. While her appearances and stories about and including her have become sparse in recent years, she is known to be petty, and causes unnaturally violent blizzards to those that disrespect her. If any of those stories are true, I hope that she is doing okay, wherever she is.

About half past three, I had knocked on the door to the twins' home. They seemed to rush beyond the door, before opening it. “Oh, Mayor Aeon,” the one twins had said to me. “What are you doing here?” I had mentioned that I was here to make sure everyone was okay. They seemed… hesitant, before they opened the door to let me in. Their home was cozy and warm, even if it was a little bit dull here and there. They didn’t seem to mind, however. In fact, I think it was rather put together and calm. It wasn’t quite like the other villagers. “Hey!” the one twin called. “The Mayor is here!” I tried to tell them (to the best of my ability) that there was no need for them to be so… worried about speaking to me. But they insisted that I stay for some time…

They had made some hot chocolate to help warm me up, and had welcomed me to hang up my coat and veil. Naturally, as I didn’t want to disrespect them, I did as they asked with a smile, and sat down on the couch. They were rather decent hosts, I must admit, and the conversations were far more pleasant than normal. That is, until they had asked if it was true, what I had said to the Queen almost five years ago now… the stories of my “bravery” having apparently spread across the town, yet never having been said to me… I’m… still surprised that people hold me in such high regard… It doesn’t quite feel like something that would be said about me, I guess… But, I did confirm it. I had done that… I had spoken against the Queen, and I had rejected the chance to be given back my voice…

“Then… you truly are the Mayor of the people.” I was somewhat confused… They had sat down across from me, and the weight of the air… it grew heavy with anticipation. They seemed to be… holding their cards tightly against their chest, however. “Are… you sure you won’t tell her anything?” I nodded my head. I restated what I had told her all that time ago. I will not bow to her, and nothing she can do to me will change that. They seemed to be afraid… 

“We are… from Underland, Mrs. Mayor.” My heart sank. Not because they had lied to me, but because it all made sense. The strange, subtle movements they made, their unwillingness to give their names, the look in their eyes… How could I look upon them with any discontent now? Peaceful lives weren’t going to be available to them so long as Somnia sits on the throne. “We had moved to Wonderland about… oh, fifty years ago now? But… with what happened nearly thirty years ago… We had been desperate to hide ourselves. We heard what she had done to the Bishop, and… we dread that if she learned there were Underlanders living in Wonderland for even longer than him…” The one with the cane shook his head, trying to block out the thought. It must’ve been a dreadful idea, if he couldn’t even speak it.

The other spoke instead. “None of us want to face her wrath. Because she’d almost certainly burn this entire town down to make us pay for existing. No one would be innocent in her eyes; all co-conspirators in sheltering us from her… Not even you, Mrs. Mayor.” My hands shook. All this time, they had been living in fear of the Queen, and of anyone that got too cozy with her. I still feel so horrible for them. How could anyone be able to live that way? They… didn’t say much afterwards… I understood why. They must’ve felt like they had already told me too much. But it was better for them to tell than for this secret to be stressing them with their every moment. I left shortly after, thanking them for the hot chocolate, and finished greeting everyone not long afterwards.

I hadn’t even told Kaseki, Kamenshi or Galacta about this… I’m just writing it down, in this book, where no one will ever be able to find it. They trust me with their life, and I trust that this secret will stay in this book. I don’t even care if I have to rip out these pages to protect them; I will do it. No one deserves to live in such terror and fear for every day of their life. I swear, I will never tell her anything. I won’t let any of them down.

I would rather die than tell her anything.

July Thirty First, 1642.

Today marks one long decade of my curse. There has been no sign of it breaking. No sign of release or freedom from this dark spell, and yet, we have overcome the troubles she had forced upon us. While the world is indeed suffering, the town has slowly been clawing out of the worst of it. Well, as best we can thanks to the Queen’s regular intervention. If I was not so… polite, I’d already have written out a rant of less than appropriate words to describe her. I have reason to believe she’s become paranoid with me still being in power, but I don’t have any time to make a revolution from the town. And besides, I’m not a Suit; I don’t have the power to take away the throne from Somnia, and no one has heard of the Spade, Diamond or the Club in ages. It’s like they’ve just up and vanished without a trace.

It’s… fine, though. We are doing what we can do without them. I’ve held up my promises to the town, which must be why I’ve held office for so long. Despite my curse, and despite the long hours of work… I do try my best to make sure we’re all protected… My mother seems a bit on edge with some of the things I’ve told her, though. Of course, I haven’t told her any secrets that I promised to never share. I could never… But, from what my Mother has told me… things have been getting worse over at the castle. People are being thrown into the prisons, some are being killed over petty slights… and Somnia seems to be driving herself even more mad than before…

If it was anyone else, I’d feel sympathy. Pity, at worst. But I don’t. I feel horrible for the people she’s betrayed, however. She had sworn to protect Wonderland when she took the throne, but she is just using her power and privilege to make everyone around herself suffer. She’s not cruel because she’s alone. She’s alone because she’s cruel. At this rate, I don’t think anyone should take the throne again. From what I’ve read of the history of Wonderland, it’s just more corruption as the line goes further down. Every power vacuum creates another crisis… I can only assume Underland or whatever other realities out there are doing far better than us.

…I’m just rambling again. I’m sorry.

August Twenty First, 1643.

My mother passed away today. I went to her house this morning to talk to her and to go out for breakfast, but she was already gone. She passed away peacefully. It feels… so wrong for her to not be here. I miss her so deeply, but it’s only natural that it would’ve happened. Her health had been in decline for some time now - since last year at least, but losing her still feels horrible. There are still so many things I want to ask her about, so many things I want to learn, and yet she’s taken her knowledge and experience into the void with her. Doing my work for the town will be a bit difficult, but I pray that this wave of misfortune will pass over soon.

August Thirtieth, 1643.

I… severely over estimated how hard losing my mother would be. When I went to the office the day of and after her passing, the others told me to go home and rest. After a brief protest, I did. But I still feel so exhausted. I wish she was here. I try to distract myself with my work, but it doesn’t work for long. I don’t know what’s worse now; this curse, or this… feeling that I could’ve helped her. She was going to die eventually, but we had plans. Places to see, things to do. And there are things I wanted to talk to her about, answers that I couldn’t find for myself. Kaseki and Kamenshi said this is normal after losing a parent, but… I still miss her so deeply. I want to keep her close, but just memories of her aren’t enough. Not really. Maybe if I actually had my father here to grieve with me… or if I had already learned how to grieve if he's not alive anymore, maybe this wouldn't feel so much worse… I hate to end this on a negative note, but… I just have nothing positive to say today.

September Fifth, 1643.

I've been doing more of my job to the best of my ability. Things have been rough, but the people have been understanding. There has been no word from the Card Castle for too long; I'm expecting a visit at any point. I hope that no one has noticed my stress, but it's a bit difficult. How long can I wait without an answer for the question if I’m even going to be alive at the end of the week? Somnia’s rage grows with every visit and every refusal.

While I was making my rounds, I believe the Twins had taken notice of my gloomy state. They were sitting at the café again, before they saw me and waved me over. While they still haven't told me their names, they’re pleasant as long as they don’t bicker. Which… Now that I think about it, it isn't very often. Probably not the best way to describe them, then. Those two will find anything to argue about. It’s rather impressive, but can also be draining to be around them for long.

The first twin, the one with the cane beside his chair, asked me how I was doing without my Mama. It… was hard to answer honestly. I don’t like being vulnerable to a good amount of the town, and with those two in particular, it’s best that you have your defenses up. But he was calm and sympathetic. Didn’t even raise his voice when his brother made another ill-timed joke. “I understand, my dear,” he said to me. “It’s very hard to lose someone, especially if they’re the only one that you’ve had for so long.” I… didn’t really want to hear it. I’ve been hearing things like that since Mama passed, and it was more so getting on my nerves at this point. When you hear the same thing over and over, even the most sympathetic of phrases can become nails on a chalkboard.

“I… Both of us had gone through something like this, dear. This… realization and pain of knowing they’re gone.” I gently excused myself the best I could, (I had no translator again today, but they seem to know what I said to them, even without Galacta’s help) but the more I think of it, the more I needed to hear what they said next. “Your mother would be proud of you.” I turned to look at them again, astonished at the gentleness of his voice. His brother was completely silent, but the look in his dark glasses told me that he was thinking the same. “You’ve been through a lot, and if anyone else was in your position, we would’ve caved to the Queen’s demands. Yet you still fight her tooth and nail for every shred of dignity that she wants to rip away from you.” I almost didn’t want to accept such kind words, but it felt very nice to be appreciated in that regard. I… hope that’s not my ego talking.

After a bit longer, I said my farewells again, and left them to their coffees. I can never tell what I’m going to get myself into when I go to talk to those two, but just knowing that they care about the struggles it takes to keep this town safe from the Queen… It just helps. I think that maybe that’s why they left Underland all that time ago. Despite the risks, they somehow knew things were going to get bad on this side of the rift. I spoke with my spouses about this earlier, and I was surprised to hear that they agreed. They said that my Mama had done the best she could, but even she couldn’t stand against Somnia like I have. Again, it might just be my ego talking, but it feels like I’m carrying on the torch. Leading the town to a time and a kingdom that is safer for everyone. Not just for the one at the top.

September Eleventh, 1643.

Queen Somnia is paying the town another of her surprise visits. I had been warned by Galacta as her carriage and her royal guards appeared on the horizon. She's done so much to myself and my people. Why does she still feel the need to come to our home and spit in our faces? He's going to accompany me during my meeting with her, translating as he often does now. I still feel so foolish speaking to my people; talking to her will be like a nightmare. I wish Mama was still here. If not to guide me, then to at least hold my hand and understand what I’m going through.

When she arrived, she was her usual self. Soft and sickeningly sweet to the people, but the moment that she and I were behind closed doors, her vile self was on full display. Galacta Knight stood beside me, and his grip on one of the swords, even if it was just for decoration, was terrifying. His stare was blank and empty, but I know that he was furious to see her again. She laughed and taunted me, asking if I was finally ready to tell her my visions. I refused again, and that just made her more furious. She threatened to sentence me to Dull Glass if I refused any further. But I won’t bow down to her. And she knows that if she so much as raised a hand to me, she would come to regret it. She left without any sort of pleasure from the trip.

But regardless, if nothing is done to stop Somnia, she will become so powerful that she's going to starve the land, and even if she doesn't, her thorns will choke the life out of the people she had sworn to protect when she was crowned. When she had undoubtedly stolen the crown from the poor soul that was the Ruler of Wonderland before her. If only I could do something. If only any of the other suits were here to do something. Please, Club, wherever you are, please come back to us.

September Fourteenth, 1643.

The Club has returned.

I had a vision not long before I woke up this morning. There were vines covered in poisonous thorns spreading across Wonderland, and the world shattering like glass, leaving only a void in its wake. Then I saw a green glow, with clover flowers blooming, healing and piecing back together the broken world. From the furthest corner of the world where the light was coming from, there was a figure standing there, a young Bluebird child, with the Club in the palm of their hand. Our world, all of Wonderland, will come to the brink of destruction at the cruel hands of the Queen, but the Club will defeat her in some form or another. The Diamond and the Spade couldn't do it; I just pray that this nightmare will finally be over.

There was… another part of my vision however. When the world was falling to pieces, I saw the Moon. It appeared suddenly, and it glowed an ominous blood red. I… will have to do research on lunar imagery in Wonderland's history. The moon on the sleeve of my priestess gown is symbolic of wisdom, fertility, womanhood, and empowerment… But I don't think everyone would have used her symbol so kindly. I'll have to be extremely careful if the Queen pays another visit to our town. She has some way to tell if someone is lying to her; if she asks about the Club, and she learns that they’ve returned… There won’t be any way to save them.

September Seventeenth, 1643.

The world had fallen to ruin, if only briefly. When I woke up after everything went to black, the world was still and quiet. Whatever had happened, it was sudden. The Club was gone, but, to my joy, so was Queen Somnia. I can finally speak again. I can finally speak clear, proper sentences again. I’ve been waiting for this day for over twelve long years. The first thing I said to my spouses when they came home early to see if I was okay was “I love you”. We… We wept and laughed in joy, just holding each other for hours. We had taken the rest of the day off, and just spent the day together, finally able to just talk without needing someone to translate my words anymore.

September Twentieth, 1643

I was making my daily rounds today, a grand weight lifted from my shoulders, when I heard a small commotion. Some of the children were playing in the fields like usual, but some of the adults were standing at the edge of the town, staring at something. I went to investigate, and I’m not too sure how to describe what I saw. At least, I wasn’t sure without drawing potentially unwanted comparisons. There was a man playing in the fields, running around with the children, but also using a cane to help support himself. He had long, wavy, silver hair, two pairs of arms, and clothes like other Wonderlanders, but some of the movements he made resembled those Twins that came from Underland. As if he wanted to move slightly further or slightly less, but couldn’t compromise with his body. I went over to greet him, and he stumbled, before turning to look at me. That smile he had was slightly disturbing, but I think what was most concerning to me were his eyes. Or rather, the lack of his eyes, hidden behind those colourful glasses he wore. I tried to shut it out; it was horrifically rude of me to judge him based on something that he clearly tried to negate with his glasses. 

The children ran to me, cheerful and happy as ever, and the man greeted me like I was an old friend. “Oh ho! It has been quite a long time since I’ve seen you, miss. Perhaps… Twenty five years? Maybe longer?” I opened my mouth to respond to him, but I don’t think he had many people to talk to. He was so excitable, and even I couldn’t help but be lost in his amazement at just… existing, I suppose. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. How are you, though? How have you been? I’ve been meaning to find the place you described to me, and now I’m here!” I… gently expressed my confusion, and after a small chat, I… I knew I wasn’t crazy. I knew that he wasn’t gone forever. That was Shard. Shard was standing right in front of me! He really was alive… or as alive as you could be, trapped under a curse for that long. Had it really been over twenty five years since I saw him? I’ll have to check.

I spent the rest of the day just talking with Shard, or Lucid as he preferred to be called now. It wasn’t a name he chose for himself, but it stuck, and he didn’t think he’d change it. He stumbled through the streets, even when Kamenshi came over to help him walk. Lucid was still taller than Shimi, but the support was deeply needed. A cane could only do so much for him, as we quickly discovered. I can’t imagine sitting down for so long, and even being able to walk or float ever again. And yet, here he was, walking, running, and just breathing in how life should have been for him. A life that the Ex-Queen Somnia had stolen from him. I will have to inquire how the Club had even defeated Somnia and how she was dethroned, but I think that might be a bit too soon to discuss. Perhaps at another date.

For now, Shard, Lucid, whatever his name will be, is alive, and I believe the guest bedroom will be occupied for some time.

September Twenty Fifth, 1643.

Something rather unexpected happened today. I had woken up today with a bit of a cold, and we’re out of medicine at the moment. Kaseki said the soonest she’ll be able to get some cold medicine is tonight, but it’s bad enough that I don’t think I’ll be able to go to work today. Lucid had caught wind of my ailment, and offered, chipper as ever, to take my place for the time being. I… attempted to persuade him to not take the offer. Even a calm day was still quite a lot of work, but he seemed up to the challenge. He clumsily let me know that the town was in safe hands. I kindly asked Galacta to keep an eye on him and to help him. I don’t want him to overwork himself or to do something that would take more than a small conversation to undo. I doubt it would get that far, but the chance is still there.

For now, I’m just sitting in bed, reading a few books, the fan on to keep the room decently cool, and a nice drink of warm water, lemon juice and honey to soothe my throat. Perhaps I can use today to continue more of my research, but I'll have to take more notes to make sure I actually remember anything. I’ve seen more than one instance of Lucid’s newfound clumsiness get him into more than a spot of trouble, but with no word from the Card Castle still, maybe we’ll finally get an easy going day for Lucid. He did say he was the Bishop of Underland, but I don’t think that Wonderland is the same, even back when our worlds were connected. So long as he tries his best and Gala is there, I should be able to rest easy.

Probably.

October Thirteenth, 1643.

When the wrath of the bloodstained moon bathes the sky and washes over the land, the nightmares that burned up our imaginations will come to flesh. All corners of the Divided Realities shall be consumed by The Lands Between. The Traitors and the Sinners will perish in the flames, and the Bystanders will be without hope. Our Judgement Day is arriving.

I have no recollection of writing this. Did I write it and pass out? Or did I write it in my sleep? I… I don’t even remember having a vision that could prompt this… I’ll have to get into contact with the Card Castle soon… As much as I despise that place… I need to speak with the new Queen. Wonderland is in more danger than I thought we were.

October Twentieth, 1643

The Club has returned again.

It’s… strange. Mama said that out of all of the Suits, the Club has always been the most mysterious and the least likely to be around for significant amounts of time. They primarily appear when the Divided Realities, as my… as my blackout vision described it, are in immediate danger, possibly even when they are close to complete destruction, and soon after the source of the problem has been removed, they disappear into the pages of myth once more. The history books are full of the first three suits, but the Club is barely present for more than two sentences. It’s… frustrating to say the least. It doesn’t help that there’s so much missing. I’ll have to ask the Jailer, Dero, about some of Wonderland’s past.

The trends that I’m finding are most interesting, though. The Heart is most often the ruler of Wonderland. The Spade is often a powerful Lord or Lady, sometimes at the right hand or even the consort to the Heart. The Diamond varies, but in times of unrest and war, is usually the first to rebel against the throne and even be the leader of a rebellion faction. And the Club, whenever they make themselves known, is often the mediator; the one to take control of all of Wonderland, even for a fraction of a second and even if they don’t know it, to ensure the future of Wonderland is in good hands. Perhaps there was a flaw in how they did it recently.

Lucid said the Club is a child; a young bluebird by the name of Fylass. He left to travel the world a few days after I recovered from my cold, and visited again briefly yesterday to return to Card Castle. I was able to ask him about the Club, and said “they are a troubled youth, but I’m sadly unaware if they are even alive anymore. If they are, it breaks my heart that they haven’t come back to say they’re okay.” I believe the current Club is the same one that assisted in dethroning Somnia… Speaking of Somnia, I haven’t heard of her since she was dethroned. Not even Lucid really had an answer as to where she disappeared to. While I’m curious… I can’t say I’m sympathetic. After all, she almost certainly made enemies in every village, town and district in Wonderland. I think the only choice she’d have now is to disappear completely; leave Wonderland to find some place that she could eventually call a home for herself again.

I just know it won’t be here.

-

Fylass in Wonderland belongs to @george228732

Aeon and Cresunsa belong to me

Queen Somnia belongs to @stardustshimmer

Shard/Lucid belongs to @lostsoulau-ask

Dero belongs to @monsterhatdoodles

[briamichellewrites]

53

“I’m buying a castle in France. Do you want to come?”

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Bria was using her monitor to talk to herself while zooming around the house. She had taken a bath after breakfast, then a nap after lunch. Since they had been busy the previous day, they decided to have a quiet day at home. Mike was watching his wife while playing with the animals. She was in one of her weird moods, so he was letting her be. Her mind was probably tired. He was going to be back in the studio.

Tina and Rachel were coming over. So he didn’t have to worry about her being home alone. Rascal used his paw to clean his face before going back to playing. Neither he nor Misty understood why his human was going around in circles. Humans were strange creatures like that. He jumped up to catch a toy that Mike had thrown at him.

He almost fell on Misty. She grumbled a little. Mike rubbed her head and told her she was okay. She went back to chewing on her bone. Did it taste good? Yes. It tasted like plastic. It also gave her something to chew on that didn’t make the humans angry. She learned that as a puppy after accidentally eating a pair of shoes he had accidentally left by the door. Thankfully, they weren’t expensive. Instead of yelling at her, he gave her one of her toys and told her to chew on that.

She learned her lesson. He tried not to be too angry because she didn’t know any better. The shoes were thrown away in the garbage bin because they were destroyed. Bria stopped at where they were playing. Did she wear herself out?

“Yes, but I don’t want to take another nap. I just want to sit here for a while.”

“That’s fine. You can stay there.��

He noticed how she was breathing. It was as if she was out of breath, which had never happened before. He checked her heart. It was beating quickly. How was she feeling other than tired? She felt like she had gone running. He was going to keep an eye on her heart and he would mention it to Tina when she came over in the morning. Even if it was nothing, he wanted to be one hundred percent sure.

He asked her to let him know if she felt like she couldn’t breathe because then he would take her to the hospital. She promised she would. After a while, her heart rate dropped to a normal rhythm. He was happy, though still cautious.

Tina did a basic inventory of her vitals while she was still in bed the following morning. Her heart rate was normal, as was her blood pressure. He had a right to be concerned. She would keep an eye on her during the day. He thanked her. After saying goodbye, he got his stuff and left. He was running later than usual. This time, he had a good excuse.

He shared it with the band members when he came in ten minutes late. Brad determined it was a good reason. He didn’t tolerate lateness because he wanted to stay on schedule. Things like sleeping in, forgetting, or going back to retrieve a forgotten item were not good enough reasons. Mike had a great reason. He sat down and they officially started working. His phone was in his pocket, just in case of an emergency.

“What do you think, Miss Bria?”

“It’s Monday.”

“That’s right. It is Monday. Did you have a fun weekend?”

“Yes. Mike and I spent the afternoon at Target because I needed new clothes. We then had dinner with Brad and his friends, George and Matt. They came over. I ended up going to bed around nine-thirty. Then, I slept in yesterday and then took a nap.”

“It sounds like you had fun. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Brad. He was busy working on movies, so he wanted to visit when he was home.”

Mike tried to remain focused but his mind was distracted. He checked his phone during breaks to see if he missed anything. Phoenix threatened to take his phone away from him, so he could concentrate. He determined that was a good idea, so he handed the phone to him. They all knew that whenever something happened with Bria, even if it was minor, he became obsessed with it.

He could not escape the anxiety in his mind. Not until he got home and saw that she was okay. They didn’t blame him for being stressed out, though they didn’t want him to obsess over something he couldn’t control in the moment.

Tina and Bria took Misty for a walk around the neighborhood. She had a jacket and her blanket over her lap because it was cold outside. Misty had her tongue out because she was so happy to be outside! The cat was annoying her again, so she was also happy to be away from him for a while. The fresh air felt good on her. She could feel the cold pavement on the bottom of her paws.

It wasn’t too bad. She did her business, which was cleaned up by the human and thrown away. Tina cleaned her hands with sanitizer. She would wash them with soap and water when they got home. Bria stopped to wait for her. I’m coming. When she caught up to her, they continued walking. Misty made sure she was okay. She head-butted her legs, which had become uncovered by the wind. Human, I need help! She bit the blanket and pulled it.

Tina recognized what she was trying to do. She took it from her mouth and repositioned it, so it covered her. Misty smiled satisfied that her human was now warm again. Bria hadn’t noticed the blanket had blown away. Not until she pulled it off. She thanked her and called her a good girl. Yes, I am! Thank you, human! I am a good girl!

Mike thought that was a cute story when he heard about it later. It was likely she hadn’t felt the cold because of her paralysis. She monitored her heart rate and blood pressure multiple times throughout the day. They were all stable. She understood why he was anxious about it. He was just happy nothing happened. Bria came over to them after getting her diaper changed by Rachel. After going over everything, they switched places.

Bria was feeling energetic. She turned on the music before going around the house. Rachel followed her while he made dinner. He also looked through the notes. It was another quiet day. She took her usual nap after lunch for about an hour. They then took Misty for a walk to get some fresh air. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing with the animals.

She mentioned visiting him and his band, but she didn’t know if that was allowed since they were working. He wrote that it was. They loved having her there! It was not a problem. She stopped her zoomies in the kitchen when it was time for dinner. Since she had taken a bath the day before, they could wait until the next day to do that. He suddenly felt like something was missing, so he went over to his stuff. His phone was missing. Phoenix.

He went over to her monitor and asked if he could use it to call him. Okay. He laughed when he heard him asking if he had his phone. Yes, he did. He would give it to him tomorrow. You would lose your head sometimes if it wasn’t attached to your body, Mike. Yes, he would. They said good night before hanging up. He then put the monitor back on her wheelchair.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[overgrowth-wc]

Teaselpaw is struggling to adapt to the life of a warrior, but might have an out she didn't think possible. Plus, conspiracies abound. 

             Teaselpaw was slumped outside the medicine den, watching the comings and goings of her clanmates with heavy lidded eyes. It had been another very hard day of training, and she was exhausted. Although it had been over a moon since she had joined Windclan, she was still struggling to adapt to their way of life. She was physically at a distinct disadvantage compared to her clanmates- her short stature and limbs just didn’t have the reach that most Windclan cats had and relied on in their fighting and hunting techniques, and finding work arounds or different techniques was slow going. To Gorsestorm’s credit, he never got overly frustrated or gave up on her- he approached the challenges with the same vaguely annoyed but dogged determination he seemed to tackle every situation with. But still, they would train until Teaselpaw couldn’t take another step. She much rather enjoyed the evenings after training was done, when she sat with Gorsestorm, Heathernose, and Kiteclaw, listening to stories and learning the different rules of Clan life. Or when Gorsestorm would let her off early, and she’d visit Kestrelcall, listening to both his advice and words about Starclan, something that seemed so wondrous to her. And then nights were spent chatting and laughing with her new friends before bunking down, safe, warm, and loved. So there were definitely a lot of positives, but… there was also the small, unsettling part of her that also just… hated training. Especially battle training- the thought of fighting another cat made her sick to her stomach, and she ate dirt in every sparring match she was in. It was anxiety inducing, squaring up against her friends, as well as embarrassing to fail in front of the other mentors. Palesky and Leafspring, Cinderpaw and Dipperpaw’s mentors, usually didn’t comment, but Shalestar was always trying to help. Her efforts were genuine, and she did offer good advice, but Gorsestorm always seemed tense and irritated whenever she got involved. Teaselpaw much rather preferred hunting practice, which was just her and Gorsestorm- she had yet to catch a rabbit on her own, but at least she could help Gorsestorm and not completely fail. As it stood, she didn’t regret joining the clan, but she was starting to seriously doubt her place in it. And then there were those strange dreams that kept happening…

              It seemed almost every night she dreamed the forgotten dream, or dreamt of the tortoiseshell molly who seemed cursed to only ever whisper justice. Teaselpaw was also somewhat disquieted at the idea she knew who this molly was- Cinderpaw had told her the story of Poppypaw and Falconstar, pulling her aside one quiet afternoon when neither of them was busy. It’s hard for Dipper to talk about it, of course, he had said sadly, but Silver struggles too. She practically idolized Poppypaw, and it’s been hard for her to get along without her. That night, when Teaselpaw dreamt of the tortoiseshell, she had been struck by her similarity to Dipperpaw. But how, and why, would I be dreaming of some dead cat I never met? And then there had been that new dream last night, with the stone and the white tom and all the mint. It had left her uneasy and distracted during her training, resulting in her struggling even more than normal. Gorsestorm had dismissed her early, saying that she was no good with a busy head, and to come back when she could focus. Teaselpaw had shuffled away dejectedly at that, ending up outside the medicine den in the hope it’s peaceful atmosphere would somehow rub off one her.

              “Do you have a case of feather head?” A voice mewed from behind her, making her jump. Kestrelcall emerged from the medicine den, eyes kind as he sat beside her. “I don’t have any herbs for it, but talking usually fixes it right up.” Teaselpaw blinked at him affectionately. The pale orange tom had been a constant source of quiet support since she arrived, always willing to lend an ear or a bit of advice when she needed it.

              “I just… I’ve been having a hard time with training, but I already told you that.” She murmured, looking down at her dirty paws. Her fine, creamy fur seemed to attract dust and dirt, leaving her legs and feet constantly coated, something which bothered her more than she was willing to admit. Kestrelcall nodded but said nothing, watching her expectantly. Teaselpaw sighed, shuffling a bit. “And I’ve been having… strange dreams.” This came out much more hesitant, and Teaselpaw realized she wasn’t prepared to tell the medicine cat she suspected she had been dreaming of his murdered daughter. He had fixed her with a focused gaze at the comment, however, and so she knew she would have to tell him something.

              “What kind of dreams?” He asked, tone light, but she knew he wasn’t going to drop the subject. Teaselpaw cast her gaze about before deciding to tell him of the strangest, and most recent, one.

              “I was in a cavern, with some glowing, crystal… thing. A white tom was there, and he said he needed my help.” Kestrelcall was looking at her very intently now, and he opened his mouth to ask her-

              “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather for a clan meeting!” Teaselpaw whipped her head towards where Shalestar had just emerged from her den, relieved at the interruption. A quick glance at Kestrelcall revealed he was distracted, but she knew their conversation wasn’t over. He nodded over towards the gathering cats, however, and she followed him as he made his way to his customary place at the base of the Rock. Teaselpaw joined Silverpaw and Cinderpaw where they sat at the edge of the crowd, curious as to what was going on.

              Shalestar was sitting atop the Rock in her typical relaxed way, tail hanging off the side and eyes half lidded. They were gleaming with excitement, however, and that got Teaselpaw’s attention enough to perk up a bit. “What’s happening?” she hissed to Cinderpaw, who gave a confused shrug.

              “I don’t know,” he whispered, “but probably something good-” He was cut off by Shalestar, who was ready to begin.

              “We have an important ceremony to perform today- Leafspring has informed me that Dipperpaw has completed his assessments and is ready to become a warrior.” Teaselpaw and the siblings could hardly contain their excitement at that, bouncing to their feet to look for their friend. Teaselpaw craned her head to see where Dipperpaw sat next to his mentor, a brown tabby tom with dark green eyes. Leafspring was beaming, sitting proud next to his apprentice, who looked a mix of elated and nervous.

              “Dipperpaw, come forward.” At his leader’s command, Dipperpaw made his way to the base of the Rock, Kestrelcall gazing at him with a mixture of love, pride, and sadness swirling in his gaze. Shalestar cleared her throat before calling out so all could hear her clearly.

              “Dipperpaw, you have trained hard for the past seven moons to complete your training. Throughout this time, you have continually showed your loyalty, kindness, and perseverance in the face of much adversity.” At this last comment, Teaselpaw saw several cats shuffle their paws or pin their ears back, looking away as if Shalestar had just scolded them. His biggest detractors, then, Teaselpaw thought to herself, shooting them a quick glare. She was happy to see that the rest of the clan looked at least supportive, if not outright excited. Hopefully they all see now that he’s a true Windclanner, just like they are. “You are ready to take on the mantle of warrior.” With this, Shalestar stood, fixing her eyes on the brilliant blue sky.

              “I, Shalestar, leader of Windclan, call upon our glorious ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to learn and honor the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Dipperpaw, do you promise to uphold the Warrior Code, to honor the statutes of Starclan, and to protect your clan, even at the cost of your life?”

              “I do.” His nerves seemingly settled, Dipperpaw’s eyes glowed with determination as he nodded firmly.

              “Then by the powers given to me, I give you your warrior name. Dipperpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Dipperwing. Starclan honors your determination and compassion, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Windclan.”

              Shalestar leapt down before Dipperwing, resting her muzzle on his head, and he gave her shoulder a respectful lick. Silverpaw was the first to call out his new name, leading her clan into cheering for their new warrior. Dipperwing gazed at them all proudly, glowing at seeing his clan truly acknowledge him for the first time. The crowd dispersed quickly, however, leaving Dipperwing with just his father and his mentor. The three apprentices pushed past their other clanmates to run over to the small group, tails lashing happily. Silverpaw, of course, was the first to skid up in front of Dipperwing

              “Congratulations Dipper! How do you feel?” She purred, kneading the ground in front of her in her excitement. Cinderpaw bumped up beside her, not to be outdone.

              “Ma picked a good name for you- it fits you well!” He mewed cheerily. Teaselpaw peeped her own congratulations! before moving to sit down next to Kestrelcall, letting the siblings have a moment with their oldest friend. She glanced at the orange tom next to her, a little concerned at the faraway look in his usually sharp eyes.

              “Did you know this was happening today?” She asked quietly, looking to distract him from his thoughts. Kestrelcall blinked, looking down at her with a small smile.

              “I did,” he meowed, casting a fond glance over at Dipperwing. “Shalestar told me this morning.” Teaselpaw hummed in response, searching for something else to say. She was interrupted by Kestrelcall’s sigh- he looked like he was about to speak when a voice called from across the camp.

              “Owl chick! Come on!” She looked up to see Gorsestorm sitting by the camp entrance, waving his tail impatiently at her. She glanced up at Kestrelcall apologetically.

              “Sorry,” she murmured, “I shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Teaselpaw got up to leave, wincing as she put pressure on her aching paws.

              “Teaselpaw.” She looked back over at Kestrelcall, who looked unusually solemn. “Come see me when you’re done. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Teaselpaw nodded, trying to quell the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She didn’t know what Kestrelcall would think about her dreams, but he seemed far too interested for it to be anything good. Her life was already busy and stressful- she didn’t want to add another layer to it. Giving her coat a rough shake, she trotted off towards Gorsestorm, dread pooling in her stomach at the thought of more training.

________________________________________________________________

              To her surprise, however, Gorsestorm did not lead her towards the training field. Instead, he took her to a far-off corner of the territory that they hadn’t gone to on her first tour. Hopefully, you won’t have reason to go there for a while, Gorsestorm had mewed bitterly. Something must have changed since then. Her mentor was uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the journey- he was usually overflowing with instructions, or stories, or snarky comments. Now, Gorsestorm prowled forward like the giant cats of legend he had told her about, burning eyes fixed straight ahead. Teaselpaw didn’t press him, merely concentrating on keeping up with his brisk pace. Eventually, they crested a hill and Teaselpaw started, recognizing the place before her from her dreams.

              Dozens and dozens of small stone piles lay before her. The row closest to her seemed to be the newest, as the rocks were not as worn and small as the piles that extended further across the top of the hill. As they drew closer, she even noticed decorations adorning some- feathers, wilting flowers, even animal bones lay before or on the stones. Gorsestorm lead her to the last pile in the foremost row. A striped feather was pinned by the topmost stone, and a small, bushy plant was growing by its base. Mint, like from her dream. It was creeping over to the stone pile next to it, which was decorated with dried poppies. Poppypaw’s grave. And this must be Falconstar’s.

              Gorsestorm sat before Falconstar’s grace with a heavy sigh, and Teaselpaw was surprised to see how… miserable her mentor suddenly looked. Gorsestorm didn’t get sad or upset- irritated, yes, frustrated, definitely, but sad? It was uncomfortable to see. She sat beside him, shuffling her paws, before hesitantly reaching out to touch her paw gently to his.

              “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, and Gorsestorm shot her a surprised glance, looking like he had just remembered she was there. He let out a gusty sigh, looking down at her paw touching his before looking back at the grave before him.

              “Did you know Falconstar was my father?” He asked abruptly. Teaselpaw’s eyes grew wide at the admission- somehow, no one had gotten around to telling her that.

              “No, I didn’t.” She said honestly. “I’m so sorry.” Teaselpaw hadn’t known her father, and to be honest she had barely known her mother, but everything she had learned about Windclan pointed to parents being very close to their children. Gorsestorm hummed in response.

              “He wasn’t just my father. He was my mentor as well- my whole life, he trained me to be the next leader of Windclan. I was supposed to mentor one of Littlestream’s litter, and then I would replace Shalestar as deputy. But then he was murdered.” Gorsestorm spat the last word with such venom that Teaselpaw jumped, unnerved by the wrathful expression on his face. “And I can’t help but wonder.” Teaselpaw hesitated, before mewing a quiet question.

              “Wonder… what?” Gorsestorm paused, looking down at Teaselpaw as if trying to decide something. Evidently coming to a decision, he pinned his apprentice with a deadly serious look.

              “If Shalestar was the one who murdered him.”

________________________________________________________________

              Teaselpaw stumbled back into camp behind Gorsestorm, mind still spinning. Her mentor had outlined his whole terribly suspicious theory. Shalestar, coveting the leadership position, decided to capitalize on the accidental death of the previous deputy and her own lucky appointment. Deciding to act before she was replaced with Gorsestorm, the rightful heir, she got the jump on Falconstar when he was out on his evening walk and murdered him. Poppypaw was an unfortunate witness turned casualty, killed to keep her from telling the rest of the clan what happened. And now Shalestar has secured the leadership position for herself and her brats, unchallenged! he had hissed. Teaselpaw shook her head as if to dislodge the memory, unable to wrap her head around it all. Surely Shalestar would never? She thought desperately. This was the cat who gave her a second chance, a home, who teased and laughed and fought and tirelessly strove to lead her clan well. She had never heard a bad word spoken of her, and Teaselpaw admired the gray molly greatly. But if Gorsestorm was right…

              “Teaselpaw!” She looked up to see Kestrelcall standing a few paces away, gesturing for her to follow him. It took everything she had to not let out a wail of despair. Too much was going on- and just this morning, she had been so morose about training. Teaselpaw reluctantly shuffled over to the medicine cat, following him into the medicine den without a word. Once settled, Kestrelcall cleared his throat.

              “Tell me exactly what happened in your dream.” Teaselpaw did just that, telling him of the whole surreal affair. He nodded along seriously, never interrupting, and she finally concluded with how she was swallowed by mint and awoke in the apprentice den, feeling as if it was still snaking through her fur. Kestrelcall let out a sigh, but there was a glint in his eye that was almost… excited?

              “The place you dreamed of was the Mothermouth, and Moonstone inside it.” And yes, there was definitely an eager undercurrent to his words. “The tom, I believe, was Snowdrift, medicine cat of Thunderclan. I’ve been told he’s received an omen from the ancestors- we have reason to believe that medicine cats are in danger. He was told to find a cat in each Clan to help him. Apparently, you’re one of the cats he was looking for. I encourage you to meet him when he asked you to, and let me know if you need help with anything.” Teaselpaw blinked, dumbfounded.

              “Me?” She let out a strangled squeak, barely able to speak past the incredulity tightening her throat. “Why me? I’m not even a real clan cat.” The last part came out before she could stop it, and she flinched, deflating as she looked down at her paws. Kestrelcall was silent for a moment.

              “You are a real Windclanner, Teaselpaw. Even if you’re having a hard time of it. Tell me, have you had any other dreams, besides this one? Ones that didn’t feel normal?” Teaselpaw hesitated. There were the foggy dreams of course, which had always felt so important but were forgotten so quickly, and those she had been having for moon, even before joining Windclan. And, of course, Poppypaw…

              Teaselpaw hemmed and hawed with indecision, before the fight went out of her and she decided to come clean. What more did she have to lose, at this point? And besides, Kestrelcall always knew what to do. “Before I joined Windclan I was having dreams, but I don’t remember what they were- just that they felt important, like I needed to remember. Those haven’t ever stopped.” She admitted quietly. “And then… right after I joined… I, well, dreamed of the graveyard. There was another molly there, a tortoiseshell, and she kept whispering justice, and…” the next few words caught in her throat, and Teaselpaw dared to look up at Kestrelcall. His eyes were closed as if in pain, but when Teaselpaw stopped he opened them. His yellow eyes were dim with grief, but he seemed more contemplative than upset.

              “Poppypaw,” he murmured, and Teaselpaw flinched at the name.

              “I think so,” she choked out, then, quickly, “but I swear, I didn’t know at first, and then I thought I was crazy-” Kestrelcall flicked his tail to stop her flood of words, but his eyes were once again kind when she met them.

              “I’m not mad or upset, Teasel, you have nothing to apologize for.” The use of just her given name made her blink, as she couldn’t recall anyone calling her just that since she was made an apprentice. It made something tight in her chest ease a bit- she didn’t realize how much she missed just hearing the name her mother gave her. “I want to tell you something, then ask you something, but you don’t have to answer right now, ok?” Teaselpaw nodded mutely, eyes swimming with apprehension.

              “I believe that Starclan chose you long before you came here. It wasn’t mere coincidence that brought you to Windclan, but something much more important. And I don’t just mean whatever is going on with the omen Snowdrift needs your help with, I mean that you are important to Windclan.” Teaselpaw found the words oddly… comforting. That even though she was struggling, and things seemed too much, she had a purpose. If Kestrelcall was right, then what she was feeling wasn’t needless suffering, but rather there was something she was meant to do and it was important. She was important. “And now for my question- Teaselpaw, do you think you’d like to train as a medicine cat instead of a warrior?”

              Teaselpaw was once again, for what felt like the fifth time that day, blindsided.

              “I… can do that?” She asked. Kestrelcall nodded in response. “But… I thought that only clan cats could be medicine cats, and Starclan chose them.”

              “You are a clan cat Teaselpaw.” Kestrelcall corrected gently. “But I understand what you’re trying to say. Any cat can be chosen by Starclan, regardless of heritage- the Shadowclan medicine cat, for example, was a kittypet who received dreams from Starclan when he was just a kitten. He followed the ancestor’s guidance to Shadowclan, and has served them faithfully ever since. It would not be unusual for a similar circumstance to be happening with you. With that being said, however,” he mewed, fixing her with a serious look, “you still have a choice to make. You can train to be a warrior, if that is your wish. It is also not unheard of for Starclan to have connections to warriors as well, just much rarer. And in light of the recent omen, it is dangerous to be a healer now. Or, if you decide, you can train with me.”

              “I… need to think about it.” Teaselpaw was absolutely exhausted. She didn’t think her head could fit anymore. “And I want to talk to Gorsestorm first, too.” The prickly tom had her complete trust, despite his quirks. He was just as supportive, if not more, as the rest of her friends in Windclan. Listen owl chick, Gorsestorm had said quietly, after he had, once again, easily knocked her over in a spar. When I asked Shalestar to let you stay, it’s because I saw something in you. You’ll figure this out. He had then barked at her to get up and stop moping, but she had felt something warm glow in her chest at his words. She didn’t want to abandon him, or make him think she was ungrateful. But, a part of her whispered, this sounds a whole lot better than being a warrior. She tried to picture herself in this den, learning from Kestrelcall. Studying herbs and healing, interpreting dreams, being a shoulder to lean on and a place of comfort for her clan… that sounds pretty nice. Kestrelcall nodded.

              “Of course, don’t wo-”

              “Kestrelcall!”

              Both Teaselpaw and Kestrelcall jumped, surprised by Palesky’s sudden appearance in the den. “Littlestream- the kits are coming! Oh stars.” Palesky sat down heavily, looking blankly at the two cats before him. “The kits are coming.” Teaselpaw slowly looked over at Kestrelcall, who sprung into action. He grabbed at a few bundles of herbs, shoving a few at a startled Palesky. The pale gray tom blinked stupidly before scrambling into action at Kestrelcall’s order.

              “Don’t just sit there, hurry up, take these now! Bring them over to the nursery, I’ll be right behind you!” The pale gray tom nodded shakily before rushing out of the den, herbs clutched firmly in his jaws. Kestrelcall sighed, shaking his head affectionately. He looked back over to Teaselpaw, who was still sitting in the same spot despite the ruckus.

              “Take your time to think about what I said, and do talk to Gorsestorm. We can talk more about meeting Snowdrift tomorrow, if you’d like.” Teaselpaw nodded tiredly, and Kestrelcall gave her a supportive nudge before trotting out of the den. Too tired to even sigh, Teaselpaw slunk out of the den. It was beginning to get dark. Silverpaw was speaking quietly to Dipperwing in the center of the clearing, although he needed to start his vigil soon. Leaving them alone, Teaselpaw slogged over to the apprentice’s den. Cinderpaw was already asleep inside, his soft snores echoing in the emptiness of the den. It felt weird to realize that Dipperwing wouldn’t be sleeping there anymore, but Teaselpaw couldn’t put in the effort to really think about it. Instead, she collapsed on the nest near Cinderpaw, asleep as soon as her head hit the moss.

First / Prev / Next

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.

At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.

“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”

He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”

Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.

He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”

She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”

“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.

“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”

“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”

“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.

She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”

He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.

She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.

---

Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.

Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.

She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.

With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.

“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.

“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.

“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”

“At least our building is nice,” he adds.

“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”

“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.

“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.

Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.

In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.

“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.

“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.

“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.

The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.

All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.

“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”

She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”

“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.

He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”

“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”

“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”

“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.

“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.

She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”

“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.

“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.

“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.

“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.

Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.

“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.

“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”

“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”

“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”

“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.

“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”

“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.

“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.

“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”

“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”

“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”

“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”

“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.

“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.

“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”

“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.

“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”

“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.

“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”

“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.

“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.

“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”

“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.

“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.

“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.

They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.

The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.

“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”

“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.

“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.

Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”

“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.

“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”

“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”

“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”

Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.

“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.

“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”

“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.

“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.

“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”

Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”

“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.

“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”

—-

They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.

“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”

“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.

“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”

Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.

Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”

Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”

“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.

“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.

“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”

“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.

“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.

“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”

She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”

Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.

Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.

“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.

“Let’s do this.”

They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.

They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.

They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.

“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.

“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.

“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.

“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.

“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”

She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.

“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.

She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”

She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.

“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.

“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!”

—

They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.

“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.

“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.

“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.

“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”

They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.

“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”

“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.

“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”

“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.

She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.

“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”

“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”

She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”

“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.

The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.

“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”

“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.

The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.

She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.

She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.

They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.

Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.

The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.

“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”

“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.

“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.

She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.

Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.

“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.

He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.

“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”

Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.

“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.

“What does?”

“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”

“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”

“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.

“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.

They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.

He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 2

They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.

Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.

“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.

“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.

Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.

“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”

“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.

“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.

“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.

“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”

“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”

“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”

“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.

“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”

“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.

“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”

“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.

The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.

“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.

Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.

“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.

They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.

She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.

“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.

“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.

“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.

She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.

She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.

Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.

“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.

She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”

“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.

“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”

She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.

Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.

Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.

Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.

“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”

“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”

She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.

She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.

She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”

Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”

“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”

He laughed, “yes.”

“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.

“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.

Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.

Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”

He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.

She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”

He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.

They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.

They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.

Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”

“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.

“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.

She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.

Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.

She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.

“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.

—

She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.

“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Us?”

“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.

“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.

Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.

“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”

“So you just helped the guys win?”

“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.

“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.

“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”

“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.

“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”

She blushed, “of course you did.”

He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.

Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.

“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'

She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.

Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.

“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.

“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”

“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”

So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.

Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.

She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.

In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.

Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.

“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.

“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.

“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.

“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.

The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.

—

“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”

“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”

She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.

As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”

“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.

“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.

“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.

She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”

She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”

He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.

“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.

“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”

She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.

But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.

“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.

He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.

She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.

She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.

She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”

She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.

She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.

She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.

He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.

“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”

“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.

She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.

“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.

Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.

He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.

He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.

“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.

“Get back here,” she giggled.

He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.

“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”

He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.

He was in love with her.

She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.

She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”

“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.

She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.

She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.

She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.

She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.

She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.

She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.

He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.

She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.

He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.

“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.

She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.

He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.

Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.

He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.

He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.

They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.

She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.

She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.

He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.

Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.

They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.

“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”

She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”

“Really?” Emily pried?

“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”

They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.

“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.

“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.

“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”

“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”

They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”

“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.

They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.

“We got something.”

Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”

Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.

Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.

“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.

“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”

“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.

“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.

Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.

“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.

“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.

“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.

She smacked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”

Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.

“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.

“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.

“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.

“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.

Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.

The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.

Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.

—

Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.

“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.

“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.

“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.

“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”

“Okay?” He followed along.

“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”

“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.

They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.

“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.

—

They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.

They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.

Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.

“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.

“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.

“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.

“More specifically.”

“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”

“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”

“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.

“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.

“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”

She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”

“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”

They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.

“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.

“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.

“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.

Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.

“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.

“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”

“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.

“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”

“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”

“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.

“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.

“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.

—

They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.

Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.

“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.

“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.

She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.

“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”

“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.

“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.

“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.

She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.

“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.

He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.

“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.

“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.

Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”

Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.

“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.

The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.

“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.

“Sad in what context?”

“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”

“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.

“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.

“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”

“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.

“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.

Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.

“I know him well.”

“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”

“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”

“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance

chapter 4

Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.

Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.

“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.

“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.

“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”

“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”

“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”

“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.

Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.

Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”

“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”

“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.

They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.

Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.

Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”

“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.

“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.

“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.

“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”

“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.

They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.

“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.

“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”

“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.

“absolutely.”

-—

She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”

She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.

She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.

“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”

She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.

She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.

She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.

Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.

“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”

“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”

Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”

“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.

“Absolutely!!!”

She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.

“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.

“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”

She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.

She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.

--

She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.

Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.

The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.

She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.

She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”

He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.

Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.

Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.

He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.

“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.

“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.

“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”

“What if I want you to worry?”

“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.

“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.

“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.

He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.

They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.

“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.

“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”

She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”

“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”

“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”

“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.

“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.

“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.

He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”

“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”

“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”

“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,

“No?”

“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.

“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”

“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.

“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”

“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”

She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Road to Healing

Gif is not mine.

Summary: The one where you and Wanda travel around the country while grieving together. / Inspired by road trip-themed movies.

Read Complete work on AO3 too.

Warnings> Explicit language (cursing) , mentions of death, grieve and panic attacks. Mainly fluff and sad.

Words:  4.299K (Oneshot)

When Thanos won, you didn't have time to grieve. Immediately on the battlefield, you were responsible for helping to heal the wounded. And you were exhausted when it was over.

And then S.H.I.E.L.D. was triggered, and you knew they would take Vision if they found him. You thought Wanda wouldn't want that. And you ignored the intense pain you felt at the thought of her, and repeated to yourself that you wouldn't want that either. So you used Tony's technology to bring Vision's body back to the Avengers compound. And then you told them that Thanos had destroyed him along with the jewel, and that's what they wrote in their reports.

When you finally returned home, you only slept after you had organized a memorial for him. You didn't ask your colleagues to participate. The remaining avengers just seemed empty. So you left them alone.

Your hands trembled when you touched the knob of Wanda's room. You were looking for a picture of Vis. You found it eventually. When you left the room, your shirt was wet with your tears.

You thought Vision would like a view of the sea. So you left his body in a black wooden coffin, and buried it on the edge of the hill a few meters from the exit of the complex. You figured that Vision wasn't religious, so you just used the 3D printer to create a little iron plate, and stuck it against the ground. 

You could not sleep that night. And the next. When you finally did, your panic attacks started. But the emergency calls started coming in, and you knew you had no time for grief. The world needed you now.

You learned to deal with the panic, but the nightmares continued. So you accepted more assignments, until you were too exhausted to dream. And then you got used to it. 

And like the snap of a finger, five years passed. 

When you defeated Thanos, you fell to your knees. You couldn't find Natasha. And then you couldn't breathe. You realize what was happening, you knew they were back. But you can't go through this again. Because the world needs you again. And then you calm down, and you stand up. And then you are walking.

Steve doesn't come back. You think you hear Bucky crying in his room. But you don't say anything, because he doesn't like to talk about it. 

You take Wanda to the tomb of Vision two days before Tony's funeral. She sobs against you as you hug her, your own tears preventing you from seeing your surroundings clearly. You haven't left her side since.

After Tony's funeral is over, you destroy the items in your room with a bat. When you fall to the ground, Wanda sits beside you quietly, and holds your hand. She doesn't mind you shouting Nat's name along with your sobs.

- I can't stay here anymore. - You tell her the next night, while you are in your room. - I can't breathe in this place. - You confess with tears on your face. - I feel like I'm going to die. 

Wanda intertwines your hands. 

- Let's leave then.

You let out a long sigh, trying to control your tears. And then you nod.

Your mood improves considerably once you are out of the compound. You don't think about Nat, or Tony, or Steve, because if you do, your hands start to shake. But you think about healing. You think about being there for your best friend. 

And then you decide to live. And you hold both of Wanda's hands when you tell her that you are going to travel. Travel to all the places she hasn't visited in the United States.

You want to remember that there are still things to live for. You want Nat to be proud of you.

When Wanda nods in agreement, you smile, and hug her. And then you get a truck, and you let Wanda hold the map.

It is hot and humid, and you drum your fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly the pop song playing on the radio.

Wanda fell asleep against the passenger seat some time ago, and it has been a few hours since you left the small motel where you were staying after leaving the Avengers compound.

You are hungry, so you stop the car at the first dinner you find. The loss of movement of the vehicle awakens Wanda.

- Hey sleepyhead. - You joke as you take out your key, and look for your wallet in the glove compartment. - Let's go get something to eat.

You walk to the diner, which is practically empty. Wanda doesn't seem to be fully awake yet, but smiles at you when she catches you looking. You sit down on opposite sides of the table.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon, and pancakes, please. - You tell the waitress, and Wanda gives you a curious look. She orders cereal and chocolate waffles.

- Why are we having breakfast for dinner? - she asks with a smile.

You shrug, laughing lightly.

- It's always time for pancakes.

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and you look back. And then you are having a blinking contest. The waitress gives you a judgmental look when she interrupts the game, but you and Wanda smile and thank her for the food.

You finish eating first, and are distracted by one of the crossword puzzle magazines that the restaurant leaves under the tables. 

- Hey, Wands, help me with this one. - You say slightly distracted as you run your pencil across the paper. - "One word. Destined for belonging. Companionship. Devotion" Do you have any idea what it is?

- Soulmates. - Wanda says before chewing another piece of waffle. You let out a contented exclamation when the word fits, and smile at her, who just winks at you, smiling back.

- Does this taste good? - you ask, watching her eat. She nods, pushing her plate toward you. Wanda hands you her own fork to taste the waffles. They are very good, but you don't want to eat any more.

You can't finish your crossword puzzle, and you return the magazine to the table compartment before you leave the restaurant.

And then it is Wanda's turn to drive. You sit in the passenger seat, and turn up the radio as you get back on the road. You wish you could stay awake at night to keep Wanda company, but it only takes four songs for you to fall asleep. 

It is morning when you arrive in Virgina. And it is cold enough for you to wrap Wanda in a scarf when she refuses to warm up properly. She just laughs with flushed cheeks when you let her go. You rent a room with two beds, and after you shower, Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You are browsing through the channels when she comes back with a towel wrapped in her hair, she smells good even from a distance.

- Do you want to go out to eat, or do you want to order a pizza? - you ask.

- Pizza. - She replies as she lies down on the bed.

You need to go out and look for a pay phone, because both of your cell phones are off and in the bottom of one of the boxes you are carrying in the truck.

- Shall we watch a movie? - she asks when you come back into the room. 

- Comedy or horror? - You counter with a question as you kick off your shoes. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully.

- Both.

You smile as you hang your coat on the door.

You have been watching "Scary Movie" for twenty minutes when the pizza arrives. Wanda pauses the movie while you stand up and pay the delivery man.

She uses her powers to drag the coffee table into the space between the two beds, and you place the pizza on top of the wood and sit cross-legged on Wanda's bed.

Eventually, you finish the pizza and wipe your hands with napkins. And then Wanda lets the movie sequence continue, and you remain in her bed with the excuse that it was cold. You fall asleep at the end of the second film, but you wake up in the early morning hours with Wanda's hand against your waist. You don't think you should get used to the feeling, so you get up and go back to your bed.

Wanda cries when you arrive in Virginia Beach. You know it is the view of the sea, which reminded her of the tomb of Vision. You stand silently beside her as you entwine your hands. Wanda doesn't let go until you get back to the car.

It's cold, and you shouldn't have ice cream. But you do it anyway. You and Wanda stop at a drive-thru, and have your milkshakes while you drive toward Tennessee.

You let her have the rest of your ice cream even though she's had many tastes already.

On one of the roads, you stop the car on the roadside. You try to normalize your breathing. 

- I'm here. - She says next to you in a gentle voice, as she lets you squeeze her hand over your lap. - You are safe. 

You exchange directions for a while. 

- So you have never been to Disney? - You ask between one lighthouse and another, somewhere in North Carolina.

Wanda denies it with a smile and a nod. She has only one hand on the wheel, and her hair is shining in the sun. You scold yourself for looking.

- Since we can't afford Disney, we should pick something cheap to do - You tell her while looking at one of the tour guides you found at the motel.

- I don't mind just driving around. - she says. You bite the smile from your lips.

- Yeah, me neither.

It takes two weeks for you to talk about Natasha. You have changed routes many times now, and then you sit in the back of the truck, and look at the stars. And Wanda asks you about your nightmares. You say that you dream that Nat is falling, and that you can never reach her. You fall asleep together in the back of the car, many blankets wrapped around you.

When you wake up holding each other, neither of you really minds.

You are near Chicago when you drag Wanda to an arcade in the late afternoon. 

You and Wanda try out all the toys that are allowed for you. It's fun, and loud. And you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt.

And then you eat hamburger and fries with soda sitting in a parking lot. You push Wanda's shoulder lightly with yours when she steals one of your fries.

You are in a clothing bazaar when you see Wanda's breasts for the first time. In between trying on various strange outfits for fun, the fifth or sixth time you return to the changing room, Wanda pulls you into the cabin with her. And she smiles so much that you hardly notice them. 

When you get back to the motel, you bathe first. You touch yourself in the shower without really thinking about anything, but when you cum, the image of her breasts are in your mind.

In Michigan you bet on a race. And Wanda absolutely beats you. She has flushed cheeks and a sweaty face when you catch up with her. You think it's unfair that she looks so beautiful.

You watch the sunset, and Wanda thinks she has seen an owl. 

Your body begins to betray you when Wanda hugs you and you tremble. You decide that it is because you have been a long time without touching another person intimately and being touched in the same way. 

You joke with Wanda that you need to find a one-night stand, and she doesn't smile when she agrees with you.

As you drive towards Kansas, a waitress flirts with you. Wanda gets back in the car saying that she is tired, and you don't understand why kissing the waitress against a wall while she has one hand down your pants doesn't satisfy you.

You talk about death in Springfield. You are sharing popcorn while wrapped in a blanket sitting on the grass a few feet from the truck. 

- You can't die. - She declares suddenly and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wanda...?

- I won't... I won't survive.

You turned around quickly, and held up both your hands. 

- I wouldn't like that. - You tell her. You know it's what she doesn't want to hear, but you need her to understand that. - I would never want your life to depend on mine. 

Wanda sobs, lowering her head.

- I wish you would move on. - You nod to reaffirm her statement, your own face wet with tears. - I know... people expect me to say that I wish you would miss me, or not replace me. But I don't feel that way. - You confess. - I never want to be the reason for your unhappiness. If I die, and well, at some point I will, I want you to go on living. And enjoying it.

Wanda shakes her head, and jumps on your neck. She cries against your collarbone, but it's okay. You think she understood what you told her.

When she calms down, you are silent for several moments. 

- What will you do if I die? - she asks, looking at you. You keep your gaze on the stars as you shrug;

- I would die too.

Wanda bites back a smile on her lips, and hugs you. 

Bucky calls. You talk for five minutes. And then you text him that when he is ready you will be there to listen to him. You send a picture of you and Wanda, and when he calls again, you talk for five hours.

It takes four weeks since you left the compound to realize that you are in love with Wanda.

You are in a motel somewhere in Nebraska, and she is combing her hair in front of the television, a sitcom playing. And then she laughs, and you realize.

The realization doesn't surprise you though. You take a deep breath, and tell her you're going to get some air before you leave. 

You lean back on the balcony, trying to push the guilt away. You can hardly believe it happened so fast and so intensely.

You decide that everything is too recent, and that it would be disrespectful to Wanda's grief, so you guard yourself.

You fight for the first time in Colorado. You are being stubborn and rude, and Wanda is being distant and judgmental. And then you are arguing about the next destination. And then you stop the car on the roadside, and Wanda says she's not going anywhere with you. And you are silent for forty minutes before you two start to cry. 

You put your face against the steering wheel, and Wanda lifts her legs onto the seat and buries her face in her own arms. 

It takes a long moment for you to calm down. And then you wipe away your tears and Wanda looks away into the window, and you drive away again.

You are staying in Utah for a few days. It is the first time you ask for separate rooms. You want to cry again, but you just take the key. 

And then you can't sleep after four hours as you stare at the ceiling. 

You get up, and go out onto the veranda. And your feet guide you to the next door. But before you can knock, Wanda opens it, and jumps into you, hugging you tight. Your body instantly relaxes, and you cry as you both apologize, and promise never to fight again.

You get drunk in Las Vegas. Really drunk. You don't remember ever laughing as hard as you did that night. You think Wanda used her powers to win the games, but you can't prove it. And then you're back in the truck, stumbling and laughing, and she has a look on her face that makes your stomach turn with nervousness.

But you swallow your nervousness with a smile, and accept the bottle of vodka she offers you. And then you are in a karaoke bar, singing at the top of your lungs for two hours into the early morning hours. When the owner kicks you out, Wanda holds your hand as you both run around town. 

Back at the motel, you are laughing about something you can't remember, and then you fall into bed together, and instantly fall asleep.

When you wake up, you don't care about your headache.

You get the same tattoo in Las Vegas. Wanda holds and squeezes your hand while you are doing it, and you do the same to her. The tattoo artist thought you were married, and neither of you corrects him.

And then you take her to all the tourist spots, and you have ice cream and hot dogs. And Wanda's hand is warm against yours all the way.

On your last day in LA, you visit a nightclub. It is noisy, and lively, and has lots of alcohol. You find it hard to breathe when you see Wanda in a party dress, but she smiles and you follow her.

And then you dance and dance and dance, and you think about nothing. And then you're drunk again, and the girl at the bar is flirting with you. And Wanda's no longer smiling when she gets back on the dance floor. 

You think the girl at the bar has asked for your number, but you're looking at Wanda dancing. And she moves her body with sensuality, and then there is a man behind her. Wanda kisses him while looking at you through the lights. 

You take a shot of whiskey before leaving in a rage.

And when Wanda wakes up in the morning, she says she doesn't remember anything.

You think that you can no longer hide what you feel when you are on the road, heading for Oregon. But you just keep mumbling the song that plays on the radio.

Wanda bites her lip and has a lost look on her face, but when you ask her what's wrong, she looks away quickly as she says she was just distracted. 

You are entertained by the music again.

You get used to your feelings in Portland. The routine helps you keep them quiet and buried deep in your chest. 

You and Wanda begin to spend more time in inns, and camping, than on the road, but you still travel around the country. 

And then Wanda talks about Vision for the first time. How important he had been, how much she missed him. You listen, and she asks about Nat. And you say that it is exactly the same way. 

Neither of you cries anymore at the mention of their names.

It doesn't take long before the world needs you again. Sam calls. Stephen calls. You and Wanda throw your cell phones off a cliff, while toasting a lemonade.

- We are terrible superheroes, aren't we? - you ask looking at the horizon.

- The worst. - She replies before pouring her drink into her mouth.

You get your numbers back the same day by going to an electronics store.

And then you have to go back to New York.

Four hours down the road, and you both stop for a bite to eat in Cleveland, at a diner very similar to the one at your first stop.

Wanda walks ahead of you, hugging her own sweatshirt as she feels the late afternoon chill. You resist the urge to hug her.

- I'll have the waffles with chocolate and cereal. - You ask the waitress. Wanda stares at the menu for a few more seconds, biting her lower lip before speaking.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon with pancakes. - She asks right away.

You are silent for a moment, exchanging glances and quick smiles. And then the waitress returns with your plates.

- Are you ready to save the world again, Wandy? - you ask with a light irony in your voice before tasting your ceral.

Wanda smiles.

- Of course, of course. - She answers with humor. But her expression slowly falls, as if she is remembering something. You look at her with curiosity and concern.

- Are you all right?

- I just... - She begins. And then she straightens her posture, and diverts her eyes from yours. - What happens next? - You frown uncomprehendingly. Wanda looks unsure. - After we finish the job. This ends too?

You swallow dryly, feeling embarrassed and nervous. But you do your best to avoid showing it.

- Do you want it to end? - You ask.

- No. - She confesses as she looks into your eyes.- I'd like us to continue together.

- I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.  - You assure her with a smile. And then you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling anxious. - Don't you... don't you wish you had a fixed place to stay?

Wanda blinks in confusion, looking surprised at your question.

- I just... I love the road and all. Mostly because you're with me. - You say, and don't notice her blush at the last sentence. - But I'd like to have a house. Especially now that we're going back to work. I wouldn't mind living in New York.

- Are you inviting me to move in with you? - Wanda asks with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment, and you feel your face heat up.

- Yes, I ... I'd like that. - You say, and seeing Wanda's surprised expression, you hasten to add. - But I understand if you just want the road! That's fine, I'll stand by you too!

Wanda reaches your hand quickly over the table, and she has a huge smile on her lips.

- I would love to live with you.

- Oh. - You sigh ruefully, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your back. - Cool.

- Cool. - Wanda repeats with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye.

And then you go back to eating in silence.

You are in the passenger seat while Wanda hums a song along to the noise of the radio. It is dark and she is waiting for the first motel she can find to park. And you look at her, looking so good, and comfortable, and happy. And your brain is screaming how much you love her in an endless loop, while your heart threatens to explode in your chest.

So you think you'd better face the landscape because you're getting out of breath. But then Wanda is parking the car on the roadside, and you think maybe she's going to pee, but then she doesn't come out. You turn and find her gripping the steering wheel with both hands as she looks ahead.

- Hey, what happened? - you ask worriedly. Wanda closes her eyes.

- I read your mind.

The confession shocks you immediately. 

- W-what? - You retort with a trembling voice.

Wanda opens her eyes, and lets go of the steering wheel. And she has a tender expression to calm you down.

- Hey, it's okay, I...

- No.

You mumble breathlessly, holding back tears, as you quickly unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car.

You think you finally blew it. Wanda knew, and this was the end. 

Leaning against the car, you hugged your arms as you tried to calm your breathing with your eyes closed. You were startled when Wanda touched your shoulders, not even having heard her get out of the car.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - You cried when she hugged you. Your body was shaking. - I tried to avoid it. I'm sorry.

- Stop saying that. - She asked softly, letting her hands caress your back to calm you down. - You didn't do anything wrong. - She tries to say it, but you hold her tight, afraid she'll be gone at any moment. - Hey, look at me.

Wanda asks a few more times before you let go, trying to control your tears. Only when you look at her do you realize that she too has a crying face.

- I don't want to lose you. - You whimper. - I'll control myself, I can send them away. And everything will go back to the way it was before.

Wanda denies it with her head, raising her hands to your face. You think she's going to say you both can't do this anymore, and your stomach flips.

- I love you. - She confesses, looking up at you. - I love you. - She repeats as she wipes your tears with her fingers. You're too shocked to react. - I love you so much.

And then Wanda kisses you. And you stumble with fright, but the car behind you won't let you move away from her body. And then your eyes close, and you surrender. A long sigh escapes your lips as you feel Wanda's tongue on yours.

And you kiss until you are breathless. And then your body is warm, trembling, and Wanda kisses you again, and again, as she presses you against the car. 

And then you don't want to be dressed anymore, as Wanda lets her hands run all over you. 

You don't separate your mouths as you fall into the back seat, Wanda on top moaning into your mouth. 

The glass of the car is fogged as your hand slips on the window, trembling at Wanda's intimate touch, and delighting in the sounds she makes when you kiss her in all the right places.

You are happy. Fucking delighted. And you didn't want to keep driving, not unless it was to a house that was going to be yours and Wanda's. But Stephen and Sam were calling, saying that you were taking too long. Then you drove back to New York, and this time, Wanda's hand was entwined in yours.

[migilini]

Could you please write one of those Tiktok "I tried to kiss my bestfriend / crush" challenge for either Charlie or Owen. Thanks!

Crushtok - Owen Patrick Joyner

A/N: Yes ofc I can! I never wrote for Owen so let me know what you think! I hope you like it :)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: tiktok and noise (so none really)

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST

--------‐--------------

The sun poked through curtains and you swore that you had heard birds the day before but it was loud, uncomfortably so. All you heard was the clacking of metal and the rattling of the machinery that the construction in front of Owens Appartement made. All the unpleasant noises woke you up in the early morning. Grumbling, you tried to block out the noise with a pillow pressed against your face.

"That's not gonna work sleepy beauty" a lower voice croaked, catching you completely off guard so you let out a quiet shriek. "Oweenn why do you have to scare me badly in the morning?" You whined and took the pillow away from your face.

He sat on the other side of the couch, just underneath your feet and looked absolutely tired. His blonde hair was standing up in every possible direction, his normally piercing blue eyes trying their best to stay open. By the way, he was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips, you figured that you didn't look any better.

"Because it's 6 am on a Saturday morning and I didn't want to suffer alone. So lucky you for visiting me this week!" Owen exclaimed and hit your leg in a joking manner.

"I've got thrown out by my landlord. I'm not here on my own terms..." this earned you a shocked gasp from the boy sitting in front of you. "And there I was, thinking this friendship meant something to you." You just rolled your eyes with a smirk.

"Do you want to come back to my bedroom? With some music playing it's much quieter than out here." Nodding tiredly, he held out a hand to help you stand up; you only noticed when you nuzzled into his bed that he didn't let go of your hand.

You woke up a couple of hours later, quiet pop music filled the darkroom and it was hot, your bare legs sticking to the duvet covers. You turned around and faced a back with broad shoulders that were just moments ago pressed against your back. Groaning, you stuck your legs out of the bed, the cold air cooling you down immediately. Owen stirred next to you and sat up slowly.

"Morning part 2." you chuckled and automatically pushed some of his hair out of his face.

"Mornin" he mumbled back.

"You were right it's much quieter in your room."

You stood up, stretching your limbs, before heading back into the living room where all your stuff was stored, quite impractically but it was stored.

You heard a shower running, that gave you the perfect time to change from your big shirt and little pants sleep attire to a more comfortable day outfit. After rummaging through your boxes, that you packed in a freezy, you choose some brown cotton pants with a white body and to top it off your favourite purple cardigan that Owen gifted you one Christmas. With some extra time, you put on your glasses and started to search for a new place to stay.

"So what do you wanna do today? I have nothing going on so..." you stopped listening as Owen walked into the living room shirtless. He wore some blue sweatpants that hung quite low on his hips, his chest still sparkling from the water.

You would have probably started to drool if he wouldn't have worn his hair in a towel bun.

You let out a laugh that made him stop in his tracks.

"What?" he stared at you intensely.

"Oh, nothing princess... nothing. We uh... could look at some apartments for me and just go for a drive?"

"Am I that bad of a roommate?" he said and plopped down next to you on the couch his arm resting on the top comfortably.

"No but I would really appreciate a place to store my stuff properly." you continued to scroll through places to stay.

"This one looks good." he pointed out and put his finger on the screen, you hadn't realised that he rested his arm just above your shoulders so it took you off guard when you suddenly felt his arm on your neck.

"Mhmm, but you cant look at it today... This one though has a viewing in the late afternoon."

"Then that's our plan for today."

++

"Y/N! Y/N!" Owen screamed loudly from the kitchen "Come here real quick."

With your phone still in one hand, you waddled over to your best friend. "What's the emergency?" you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do this TikTok with me." he pleaded and looked at you with a slight pout, shoving his phone in your face. Your eyes scanned the screen and then you scoffed, "First of all since when are you on lesbian TikTok? And secondly, that's a bit... explicit... don't you think?"

"W- Our lips don't have to touch! I don't have anybody else to do it with! Y/N Come On!" he yelled after your figure who left the kitchen with a shaking head and hot cheeks.

Your thought didn't stop racing for the rest of the day. Did Owen want to kiss you? Or was he just so comfortable with your friendship that he really didn't care? You hated that you were a cliche, falling in love with your childhood best friend. Growing up you were always the one rolling your eyes at your parents who thought that you and Owen would make just such a cute couple but here you were, sitting on his couch, your heart beating in your chest and extremely conscious of his presence.

Little did you know that Owen felt the exact same. Over the years and especially puberty, he started to develop feelings for you. At first, he tried to deny them, telling himself that it's just that he's used to you being around but then he left to pursue his acting career and he missed you more than everything in the world. Not a single day went by when he didn't think of you or tried to call you. Ever since then, he tried to be close to you in one way or the other, he didn't care if it was just his leg touching yours or your body heat warming him up.

Due to the fact that you were both anxious people, neither of you ever made a move. He missed your longing stares and you missed the way he was checking you out every time he looked at you.

His friends finally talked some confidence into him and so he took little steps into what should eventually lead to him confessing his love for you. He started to flirt more with you, give you loads of compliments and asked you if you wanted to do some TikTok or lives with him.

Tapping on your shoulder made you look up from your phone, the TikTok you've been watching looping on your screen. Owen stood next to you, his phone pointed to you, a mischievous smirk prominent on his face and whipped cream can in his other hand.

"No." you tried to be serious but a chuckle escaped your lips. Owen turned the camera to him and sprayed some cream into his mouth then stared at you with squinted eyes, the whipped cream flowing out of his mouth.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, your brain in overdrive, hands sweaty and heart beating rapidly. An idea washed over you and you tilted your head before leaning in close. Owen's eyes went wide and he nearly choked on the cream. But you weren't gonna kiss him seconds before your lips would have met, you halted. Then you slowly took the can of whipped cream out of his hand and sprayed it all over his head.

"You didn't!" he gasped with a full mouth while you laid on the floor, holding your stomach in laughter. Something wet hit your face that stopped you from laughing further. Owen had a massive grin on his face, one hand dripping slightly and his hair, less creamy.

"Be cautious Joyner" you warned standing up on your tiptoes to be as close to him as possible, your pointer finger pressing into his chest "I know where your bed sleeps."

You tried to back out of the situation, knowing damn well that it can easily get out of hand with you two and a whipped cream match would make a lot of mess. But Owen being the child he is, didn't back out, instead, he ripped the can out of your hand and sprayed it down your back.

The war ended peacefully. The cans of whipped cream, yes you found more cans, laying somewhere in the living room both of you covered from head to toe, breathing heavily. Owen held his hands up in surrender and looked up to your position on the coffee table.

"Ha! I win! Told you I didn't want to do the TikTok." you smiled triumphantly. "I say loser cleans this up." before Owen could protest you sprinted to the shower. Lucky for you he actually started to clean up when you walked out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable sweats and one of Owens hoodie, your damp hair falling over your shoulders.

"Hey Y/N?" Owen asked somehow nervously. "Yes darling?" you answered with a bad British accent.

"Can you come here for a second?"

"Owen I'm not doing that TikTok with you, you just saw how that ended," you argued but made your way over to him. He stood in the middle of the room, his phone propped up on a shelf.

"You have something on your face." you chuckled and whipped away some dried leftovers from your previous war.

"Can you react to this song? I don't remember where I know it from" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour just moments ago he was normal and now he acted very strangely.

"Sure." he pulled you in front of him, his hands resting on your shoulders.

'Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

I can't let you go now that I got it'

“Sounds like BORNS…” you whispered more to yourself than to him and continued to listen to the song “Are you sure you just haven't…” you turned around to face him.

Owen took this as his opportunity to cup your face with both of his hands, softly pressing his lips to yours.

Your breath hitched and it took you a second to realise what was happening. The confidence Owen had just moments ago vanished when you didn't kiss him back immediately. Why should you? You never gave a hint that you liked him like that as well.

Just as he was about to pull away and apologize profusely, you overcame your state of shock. Your arms grabbed his hips to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. You felt him smile against your lips. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your whole body tingled and your cheeks felt hot.

He was the first one to pull away, resting his forehead on yours. Both breathing heavily, the filming camera was completely forgotten, you looked in each other's eyes.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” you admitted and unconsciously bit your lip. Owen gulped heavily, “Me too but, what the hell! I mean how crazy is that?!”

[formenis]

Lines

Anon asked “Can you do one shot were before the Kira case L and reader were trying for a baby but after he takes the Kira case they agree to stop and after L meets Light reader finds out she is pregnant. L tries to send her away but she refuses and they end up fighting in front if the Task Force and that's how they find out L and reader are married and that she is pregnant “

pairing: L x fem!reader

warning: mention of food play

requested: yes

A/N: I apologise for the mistakes you will find in my stories but English is not my first language. Sorry ^^”

Y/A = your alias

Negative.

Negative.

Negative.

Y/N sighed placing the pregnancy test on the sink. It was the second one that week with that same result…Y/N started to believe either she or L were able to have a child.

After a little time off, she washed her face, now her S/C skin was flawless and smooth, and then the teeth. She brushed her H/C hair and took a moment to observe her own reflection: the exhaustion in her E/C eyes was clear (and her job wasn’t helping her) and even her skin lost a bit of colour. In moments like those Y/N wondered what someone as the greatest detective in the world found attractive in her.

Her negative thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

«Miss Y/N? It's Watari, I brought you breakfast» the kind voice of L's right-hand man showed a hint of concern and this made Y/N smile. Watari was always by her side, God blessed him.

«Thank you Watari» before leaving the bathroom she threw the pregnancy test in the bin and adjusted the PJs. Once outside the bathroom she saw Watari serving the breakfast in the cart: fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and a slice of white pudding; it was accompanied by tea and hot, buttered toast. To sum up: a typical British breakfast.

«Watari, you don’t have to spoil me like that…» Y/N told him already drooling.

«Miss Y/N, I believe you need some fresh air and relax. Please, enjoy me this afternoon at the shopping centre, I will need your precious advices» and then the old man placed a hot cup of tea on the cart with the rest of the breakfast.

It was not the first time Watari would make such an offer, he knew very well that being L's wife could be stressful. Yes, you heard right: Y/N L/N was L's wife. Despite the young age, both of them got married few years ago and they couldn’t be happier. Well, actually there was something that would make them happier: a child. Both L and Y/N wanted their own child despite the Wammy's House had many orphans.

«They're not orphans, Y/N. They are all adopted by me» L said few months after the marriage when the topic popped out in a conversation. He considered those children as his own, he loved being surrounded by their presence. Maybe because L was a bit childish himself.

However, despite their strong desire to have a kid on their own, it seemed nature didn’t agree with them.

But back to the present. Y/N was thinking about Watari's offer. If people considered L's life as secretive, his wife's one was twice as secretive but Y/N accepted it when she married him: she knew the risks and the conditions of being the greatest detective in the world's partner. So when Watari asked her to go with him at the shopping centre she seized the opportunity and said yes.

.

.

.

Disguise check. Sunglasses and hat? Check. F/C wig? Check. Y/N was ready to leave L's secret base with Watari.

«Are you ready Miss Y/N?»

«Of course, Watari. Let's go!~»

Unaware of Miss Y/N, Watari hadn’t to buy anything at the shopping centre. It was an excuse to let Y/N leave the base, a chance to get some fresh air. He pretended to buy some stuff for him: a new fedora and raincoat to be precise. He would need them for the new case L was going to take.

«Are you feeling better, Miss Y/A?»  

«Yeah! Thank you Watari! I really needed to leave that place» Y/N was smiling again, her skin had a more healthily colour and all the tiredness in her eyes was gone. Watari smiled too. «However…»

«What is it, Miss?»

«Today's test was negative again and…» Y/N sighed and checked the time on her phone.

«If I could dare an advice, Miss, things will come when you stop looking for them. So don't be sad, it only means it's not the right time…»

Y/N looked at him and smiled. «You're right, Watari»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

December 2003. L was going to take part at one of those boring ICPO meeting. An emergency Interpol meeting, with delegates from all around the world, held in order to discuss a rather strange situation that was occurring in Japan. They are convinced that something was happening but cannot be sure what it is.

L was going to take the floor but before that he called Y/N.

«Did you call me?» Y/N entered the private and empty room that was L's personal "office": a desk, a fancy armchair and many many computer screens at their highest brightness level.

«Yes. Please, come closer» L replied. When he was with her, his usual monotone voice would become warmer and gentler, something reserved to his wife only.

Y/N walked towards him, next to his armchair waiting for an explanation. «Y/N, this case seems quite interesting. I think sooner or later we have to move»

«We?» she was surprised. Was she really going to go with him? It would be the first time.

«Indeed. If you agree, obviously»

«Of course I agree. I'll help you as always, L»

He smiled and took her hand, kissing tenderly the knuckle. «So would you agree with me if I say that it's better stop trying to have a baby, my dear?»  

Y/N thought for a while, calculating every scenario. «Yes, you're right»

L smiled again, this time wider. «Thank you, my love»

Y/N smiled as well and L returned to his bright screens. Then she noticed his personal stash of sweets beside him and took the opportunity to steal a Bon Bon Cherry (A/N: they are shortbread cookies wrapped around a cherry and topped with cherry frosting).

«Y/N, those are mine»

She snorted but ate the sweet regardless of L's warning.

♰ LATER THAT NIGHT ♰

«Are you coming to bed, L?»

«Not now, Y/N»

She walked closer to him and hugged the detective from behind. «But I prepared some creme pat~»

At those words L froze. Those words meant one thing: food play. And L couldn’t renounce to food play. «How much?»

«Two bowls…one has chocolate too~» she whispered alluring to his ear. In one swift movement, L was already up with Y/N in his arms –bridal style- leading towards the bedroom.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Japan was so full of life, wherever you turned you would be surrounded by different cultures. And the people was so kind and polite, they had a very high respect of other costumes and traditions. Y/N loved everything about Japan, she wanted to visit each district of Tokyo: from Akihabara (Tokyo's Anime & Gadget Town), to Shinjuku (Culture Clash) and to Kichijoji (a glimpse of Japan’s rural life within the city). She even prepared a tour on foot for each of them.

But at this point a question could arise: what was Y/N's job? Everyone who had the opportunity to work with L knew that each of his "co-worker" had a specific task to fulfil. So what was Y/N's real task? To be L's shadowy wife? Oh no, nothing like that.

Her role was very important in the couple: she "filtered" the information from Watari to L, she represented L in many circumstances and helped him in solving cases. In other words, Y/N was a sort of "Watari 2.0".

Once the couple moved to Japan, they booked a room at the "Imperial Hotel", one of the fanciest hotel at Tokyo. Until the construction of the new Japanese HQ wouldn’t be complete, L and Y/N had to change often hotel for safety reasons. But Y/N didn’t mind, for her it was the chance to visit the city.

"Kira…eliminating those FBI agents has got to have put you on the defensive. What are thinking right now?" L thought while looking outside the window, in front of him a breathtaking view of Tokyo at night but he wasn’t focused on it.

«Ryuzaki, are you still awake?» Y/N entered the room, she was already wearing her F/C PJs.

He nodded and watched her walking closer through the reflection of the window. She hugged him from behind and observed the scenario outside the window.

«Tomorrow you'll meet your task-force, you have to sleep»  

«Maybe later, Y/A»

They stood there, their bodies were hugged together but their minds had different thoughts. Between them, a pleasant silence filled the air, the couple was enjoying each other presence.

However, Y/N had to break said silence. «Maybe I'm intolerant to soy sauce»  

«To soy sauce?» L asked concerned.

«Yes…today I ate the famous Kobe meat but not much after that I threw up»

L stood in silence, deep in thought for a while. In those minutes he was analysing the current situation: what if Kira found out Y/N's true identity? Would he use her to blackmail L? He was so focused on those things that he almost didn’t notice Y/N was leaving.

«I'm going to bed, dear» Y/N kissed his cheek on tiptoes. «Please, rest for a bit alright?»

L smiled at her taking her hands in his. «Good night, my love» and then he kissed first the knuckles and after her lips. From this point of view L was really romantic despite his external cold behaviour.

Y/N smiled at him and left the room, now L was alone again with a new thought in his mind: «Since when Y/N is intolerant to soy sauce?»

.

.

.

January 2004 could be sum up with three major events: Raye Penber and Naomi Misora's deaths and the surveillance at Yagami and Kitamura's households. In particular, L's suspects moved to the son of Soichiro Yagami, Light. Technically he had access to the police's private dossiers and database since his father was the Chief and most importantly…he was too perfect according to L.

«Y/A, I don’t want you to meet Light-kun»

«Do you really think he is Kira?»

«It's not an assumption but a matter-of-fact. Of course he is»

However, it was inevitable. Light noticed Y/N's presence at the hotel and he wanted to meet her. He had to. So he "pretended" to be lost and asked Y/N for directions.

«Excuse me, Miss. I think I'm lost, do you know where room 684 is?»

Y/N, with one of her disguise on, turned towards the teenager: in front of her a young man, standing at above average height with light-brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a school uniform with a bright red tie.

«Uhm no sorry…but if you follow the numeration on the doors it must be easier for you» and with that Y/N left an astonished yet angry Light Yagami in the middle of the hallway.

She hadn’t the time to think about him, she had a more important thing to do. Since December, she missed her period twice: at first she thought it was because of the sudden trip to Japan but it was already the second time it happened. Could it be…?

«Such a bad timing…» she said out loud once in her room. However, she couldn’t hide the nervousness: she agreed with L to stop trying to have a baby before the Kira case and if the test she bought was positive…what would be L's reaction?

«"Get rid of the cause and you get rid of the problem" they say…let's do this then»

.

.

.

The task-force was working quietly in L's room, sharing information and dossiers. However, that atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by someone that thrusted open the door.

«Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki! I have something important to tell you!» Y/N appeared in the room, tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face.

The entire task-force looked at her in awe and confusion. Who was that woman?

L turned towards her as well. Of course when she barged into the room he was shocked not only because of that sudden appearance but because now the task-force knew about her. There must be a really good reason for that.

He stood up and walked towards her. «Please Y/A, not now. You'll tell me later»

«No Ryuzaki, you need to hear this now!» she was so excited that she couldn’t be still.

«Y/A, it's not the right moment. You have to leave, please» L insisted trying to guide her towards the door.

«Ryuzaki stop! I'm your wife and you need to listen this!»

The task-force behind them stared in shock (and Aizawa almost spilled all his coffee). Did they hear right? Wife? What? Someone like L…married?!

«No Y/A, you have to stop. Your behaviour is highly unprofessional. Moreover, you don’t have the permission to stay here so please leave» L was becoming more and more bothered and it was clear by the tone of his voice, deep and fierce at the same time.

«Ryuzaki, I'm pregnant!»

 .

Silence.

 .

It was so loud that you could hear a pin falling down.

 .

Heavy and tense air was breathable, even the task-force noticed it. Y/N was there, with her heart in her throat, waiting for a reaction or a word from L. Fear was soon replaced by terror because L wasn’t saying anything.

«Are you…?»

Deducing what he was going to ask, Y/N showed him the test: two blue lines. At that sight L hugged her tightly, starting spinning together. Y/N burst in a resounding laugh, all fears and nervousness were gone.

«Oh my, Y/A. Finally! I knew it was not intolerance at soy sauce» he placed the forehead against her own and smiled widely.

They stood hugged together for a while and in the meantime the entire task-force was complimenting them about that news (especially Soichiro).

«We have to tell Watari too» L added shortly after the hug.

«Yes, he is going to become a grandpa after all»

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Prologue

Hey y’all! Some of you may have seen this already, but I took it down and reworked it a little bit. Check out my masterlist to read my other stories, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,723

Aziza [a-zee-za] noun: A benevolent magical species with moderate stature, pointed ears, colorful wings, and deep brown skin that always has a slight glow. They enjoy music, dancing, and frolicking with human children. They also have a propensity for plant magic and hunting and tend to dwell in or around the rainforest.

Long before humans ever stepped foot in Wakanda, the aziza were appointed guardians of the land by the panther goddess, Bast. Aziza lived in harmony with the other magical beings, with a few exceptions, and the queen of the aziza ruled over all of Wakanda. That is until these strange, magicless creatures stumbled into the forest one day and were immediately accosted by some of the more malevolent beings that inhabited the land. Several aziza sprang into action to protect the newcomers and were able to stop the evil obambo from possessing them and driving them mad. When the heroic team of aziza brought the defenseless humans to the queen, she welcomed them into her kingdom with open arms and gave them their own plot of land that was locked between her forest and a dangerous mountain range.

When left to their own devices, the humans began to fight with each other over resources and the right to rule. Queen Ani grew tired of the fighting and called on Bast to help end the constant wars. The goddess instructed her to find a man named Bashenga and bring him to her garden. Apparently, her favorite flower had a strange effect on humans. To all the other beings under her rule, the flower simply acted as an ointment of sorts, but it made humans powerful. Queen Ani followed Bast’s instructions and ground up the petals for Bashenga to consume. She buried him in the rich soil, and when he emerged minutes later, he was a new man. He was a leader, a champion, a king.

Humans and magical beings lived in harmony in isolation from the outside world for centuries until a strange thing started happening on the continent. People were disappearing from the western coast, and when the queen of the aziza heard about it, she brought it to the human king’s attention. King Amir refused to help out of fear of exposing his kingdom to the world, and Queen Onara became incensed. She couldn’t believe he was turning his back on his own kind. The queen wanted nothing more to do with him and his cowardly people, so she called on Bast again. The goddess made another realm within Wakanda for the magical creatures to live in. Onara assumed it would be difficult to get the other species on board, but, as it turned out, most of them were eager to get away from the humans. It seemed the only ones that actually liked them were the aziza, but that quickly changed upon hearing of their negligence. A few even chose to travel to the new world in disguise to help the humans that had been taken. The aziza operatives did their best to help them, but there were just too many for them to save. Their numbers were few, but they were able to perform small acts of magic to help where they could.

Over the years, magical creatures became a thing of the past to the Wakandans. They became bedtime stories and folk tales, but nobody truly believed in their existence anymore except for the children the aziza would occasionally visit when they felt like being playful.

————

One sunny afternoon, a little aziza was playing down by the river when she sneezed, and her surroundings changed. Everything looked almost the same but slightly less vibrant despite the bold greens and blues around her. She turned around and couldn’t see her village in the distance, but instead, she saw a boy about her age splashing in the water.

She emerged from behind the bushes and called out to him, “Sawubona!”

The boy looked up, and his eyebrows furrowed. He was sure he had been alone.

“Um, mholweni...ungubani?”

“I’m Nia. Who are you?”

“You speak Xhosa?”

“I speak a bunch of languages,” she giggled. “You speak Zulu?”

“Yeah. I bet I speak more languages than you,” he challenged her.

Nia’s face scrunched up as she counted up all the languages she knew.

“I speak thirteen so far, but I’m only eight,” she shrugged.

“Wow, thirteen?! I can only speak five.” He looked dejected, and she hated seeing the look on his face, so she quickly changed the subject.

“Can I swim with you?”

“Sure, but...where did you come from?” the boy asked as he looked around. “You just sort of came out of nowhere.”

Nia was young, but she knew she was in the human realm. She had visited plenty of times with her ubaba and knew it well. She just wasn’t sure how she got there this time. However, she knew not to tell him exactly what she was, so the little aziza tucked her ears under her colorful headband as she stepped closer and tried to think of a good explanation.

“My ubaba says I’m sneaky like that,” she shrugged. “Want to play tag?”

“You’re it!” he yelled as he splashed her and swam away as fast as he could. She cut her eyes at him and wiggled out of her clothes before jumping in after him. She quickly caught up to him, much to his surprise, but he stopped when it was his turn to chase her. The boy noticed something strange on her back as she swam away, and he grew concerned.

“What happened?”

Nia quickly turned around, confused by the tone of his voice, “To what?”

“To you. The scars,” he pointed to her back.

“Oh,” Nia had to think fast again. “It’s just a really big birthmark.”

“Really? That’s so cool! It looks like two wings,” he mused before his eyes lit up and he gasped loudly. “What if you can fly?”

“I wish,” she said with a certain sadness to her voice that confused him. He noticed the heaviness in her eyes and decided to lighten to mood a little by splashing her in her face. It worked, and they were off again.

The two of them spent the afternoon splashing away in the river, laughs echoing loudly as they played until a deep voice called out, and the boy froze.

“T’Challa!”

“Coming, baba!” he yelled back before turning to his new friend, who had just figured out that she had been playing with the Crown Prince of Wakanda this whole time. “I have to go. I’m not supposed to be out here.”

Nia’s face deflated until she looked at the shadows and realized too much time had passed since she left home. She nodded solemnly, and they swam to shore. They begrudgingly got dressed in silence until T’Challa spoke up.

“Can I see you again? I had fun today… I don’t get to have fun often,” he looked at the ground, and she hugged him tight to make him smile.

“I can come back tomorrow,” Nia said, making his face light up.

“Deal!”

The two kids said their goodbyes, and Nia watched as T’Challa ran through the trees towards the disembodied voice. She turned around to leave the same way she came and jumped at the sight of her father.

“Did you have fun?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Nia nodded enthusiastically, “I made a friend!”

“I saw,” he chuckled. “How’d you get over on this side?”

“I sneezed,” Nia shrugged as she grabbed her ubaba’s hand, and they shimmered back over to the magic realm. That night, he began to teach her how to clear her mind and travel between the realms intentionally. Nia took to it quickly, and she was excited to explore the human realm, her mother’s realm, more than ever before.

Amare, an aziza, and Celeste, a human, met and fell in love while he was stationed in New York for his first tour as a secret operative. When Amare heard about what the human Wakandans had allowed to happen to their kin, he jumped at the chance to make a difference. It was a dangerous job, dealing with humans and the occasional fae, but he loved it. Almost immediately, he met and fell in love with Celeste, a vivacious and opinionated brown-skinned beauty from Harlem. They lived together for two blissful years before they found out they were expecting a child. Celeste was over the moon, but Amare couldn’t help but worry. There had been very few half-human, half aziza babies over the years, but they always took a massive toll on human mothers. Amare knew then that he might have to say goodbye to the love of his life. Sadly, he was right. The baby’s higher need for energy to fuel her growing magic drained her mother dry, and Celeste was even too weak to push. She didn’t survive the cesarean.

Amare brought his baby girl back home to Wakanda, and they lived in a small home near the rainforest on the outskirts of the Border province that he had enchanted to straddle both realms. He raised Nia the same as any other aziza child, but they often traveled to the human realm so she could be among her people. Before popping over to the other side, he’d always cast a glamour spell to hide his wings, making them lay flush against his back so that they looked like intricate tattoos. Nia was always jealous of her dad’s bright orange wings since she never got hers, just the giant wing-shaped scars that covered her back. She always felt a little broken, like she wasn’t as good as the other aziza kids, so when she met T’Challa she was excited to have her first human friend. Or so she thought.

Nia went back to the river the next day and waited for T’Challa. She waited and waited, but he was nowhere to be found. She tried again every day for a week, but he never showed. His absence started to weigh on her, and Amare hated to see his little girl look so sad. After day seven, he put a stop to it and Nia eventually gave up on her so-called friend. However, the pain of his abandonment never really went away.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 4/?: Soothe

Sasuke arrives outside her building shortly before seven in the morning, an ubiquitous aubade sung by birds, polished and practiced for many years, lilting into his ears along the way. The village for the most part is still slowly awakening from its slumber; no merchants in the streets yet, and he only passes a few people here and there as light slowly seeps higher into the sky.

He carefully pushes open the glass door of the exterior portion of her complex, making sure to keep it quiet in case her neighbors are still asleep. As he goes up the stairs, he notices that all of the downstairs tenants’ lights are on, emanating from beneath the trio of entryways. Once he reaches the upper landing, he sees that Sakura’s light is on, too, though her other two neighbors' are not.

The doors of each unit are all painted different colors. Hers is sage green; he hadn’t been able to discern that previously, with the desaturation that night brings.

He's wondering if maybe he should knock to let her know he’s here, but then she emerges a few minutes early, beautiful and bright-eyed and full of life, pale yellow sunshine coating her from the large window with diamond patterning behind him.

She seems pretty awake already; she must be an early riser. She's carrying her tote bag again, and today she wears a dark skirt with a red top, along with a familiar pair of knee-high sandals. She's also wearing a smile, directed upwards at him.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she acknowledges him softly, looking very happy to see him.

"...Morning." He keeps his voice low, because it is still a little hoarse. He tries to memorize her eyes again in the span of seconds before she turns to lock her door behind her.

It's 6:58 by the time they're out the glass door, her leading the way. They take the main road west a few blocks before turning to go north, this time. There are several more buildings that appear residential on her street. One of them has vines creeping up the sides, starting to bud after the warmer spring weather. He notes there is also a bakery on the corner, not open yet, but one that seems like the kind to also sell confections. He wonders if that factored into her apartment selection at all; he remembers she has a sweet tooth.

It is an easy silence they share on the walk there, bird calls lulling in as background noise again. There are more of them now, a more layered song than earlier, with a wider variety of voices filtering in and out.

Sakura leads them to a very small tea shop within five minutes of the hospital; it is quaint and simple, definitely not modern. It is also quite small, with only four or so small tables situated by windows, looking out towards the street. The entire establishment utilizes a spread of cinnamon-colored wood for its surfaces; floors, counters, and the shelving in the back, laden with neatly-labeled teas of several varieties in glass jars. He assumes the larger jars are store stock, with the smaller ones higher up on the shelves being available for purchase for use at home, if one decides they like a particular flavor enough.

He finds he likes the atmosphere. He figured he would. It's not a formal place, but rather one where you retrieve what you've ordered from the counter and can choose whether to stay or go. He supposes that makes sense; it’s closer to the busier part of the village. There appears to be a small area to the left of the counter where one can add cream, sugar, lemon, or honey, though he knows he won't. He vaguely remembers that she used to take lemon and sugar in her tea, and possibly cream, depending on the brew. Honey seems like something Sakura would like, too, now that he’s thinking about it.

He scans the menu briefly upon entering before deciding something hot with caffeine would probably be best. Sencha green tea is usually what he gravitates toward. He also enjoys black tea during cooler weather, and jasmine occasionally, though not often; it had been his mother’s favorite.

Once he orders, he says, "Hers, too," and glances back towards Sakura expectantly. She looks at him with a blush that rivals the color of her hair when she realizes he's offering to pay for hers.

"Oh! Um, lavender matcha. Hot, please."

His lips quirk upwards a little, because that is possibly the most Sakura thing she could have ordered.

It doesn’t take very long until it’s ready, as they’re not busy; they are the only ones there, thus far. He takes a sip while idling by the end of the counter as he watches her add honey and cream into hers, stirring carefully. It is one of the better blends of sencha he’s had, aside from a particular place nestled on the edge of the Land of Mountains, where he’s pretty sure the elderly woman who ran the place harvested the tea straight from her private garden. He had pilgrimaged there a total of five times on his journey, months scattered like the seasons in between.

It was an odd teahouse, more formal than this one and off the beaten path, not near any major landmarks, nor plotted on any map he’d seen before or after. The lady, who had wizened eyes of a crystal clear blue, slightly lighter in hue than Naruto’s, had served the brews in eclectic and sometimes chipped mugs and teacups, from which he had assumed after multiple visits must be a fairly vast collection. The china was different every time, but he had liked the tea itself so much he kept coming back, if he was anywhere near the area. Twice he had been the only customer there, the first two visits occurring during early morning hours, and there was something extremely cathartic about sitting at the table in the far corner, looking out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky until it no longer skimmed the horizon and the mountains in the distance.

The other three visits had occurred during the afternoon, so there had been at least one or two other people present, at those times. He had noticed that third time that other patrons were served out of much different teacups than he was; he had secretly suspected, after that, that the woman tried to match the stoneware from her collection to whatever she saw in her patrons.

There had been a father sitting with his daughter, who had looked to be around six or seven, on his third visit. The father’s teacup had been robust, solid with carved detail that appeared to have been created with something like a miniature chisel, and an earthenware glaze mix of green and russet, strangely looking similar to the color of seaweed. The daughter’s had been a smaller cup, dainty finery of opalescent sky blue, with a similar mother of pearl finish coating the inside. The girl had quickly drained her glass once she realized the inside was pretty, too; she had spent the rest of the time there in awe of its beauty, turning it in the light as her father watched with soft eyes, enjoying his own cup more slowly. Sasuke had thought it must have been an expensive teacup, not necessarily what you’d typically give a child that young, but the girl hadn’t chipped or broken it. Instead, she had been enamored by its beautiful finish, even more enthralled with the inside than she had been with the outside, and had handled it with great care.

He never saw the same cup twice, for him or any other customer there. He had hoped by the third and fourth time that this was a good sign, that it meant progress. Once he figured it out, he wished he’d examined the first two cups, near five months apart, with greater care; he had thought there might have been a lesson there he had missed. His first teacup, from what he remembered, had been rather plain: rounded, no handle, slightly hard to grip, a shiny black glaze with a burnt orange rim. The second time, he’d been served the sencha in another black piece of china, though this one must have been fired differently; there was no glaze at the very bottom of the outer portion of the vessel, bare toasted clay in an oatmeal color. Carved designs on the outer portion of the piece had nearly melted glaze off it, allowing for the viewer to see the true color of the clay body beneath, creating an effect of brushstrokes in the third dimension, rippling out of the darkness. That one had had a chip at the top, but it hadn’t compromised the structural integrity of the piece, and was easily avoided simply by sipping from the undamaged side.

The third cup had taken him off guard in its uniqueness, and is what had caused him to look to the girl and her father. He had analyzed theirs, and then his own cup closely for a long time that day, thinking. Still no handle, but it had been a bit more narrow, as well as taller, easier to grip. The glaze design was fascinating, a thick glossy black base coat overlaid with a strange dissolving mixture of sapphire and indigo. It had reminded him of a night sky in the middle of nowhere, tiny amounts of galaxy blues and violets barely visible to the naked eye in their sheer scope and complexity. The glaze itself also only covered around two thirds of the vessel, at an asymmetrical angle, with the remaining half left unglazed, as if it hadn’t dripped down to be fully covered yet because the artist had liked the way it looked as is.

When he went back for a fourth cup several months later, the lady had given him an entirely too knowing look, and served his tea in a somewhat misshapen mug, this time with a handle. The handle was awkward, too small, and slightly malformed; the mug’s overall shape seemed as though it may have been an artist’s first attempt, shoddily trimmed and uneven in many places. The glaze design itself was mesmerizing, though, something like a gradient this time, shifting from splattering black to sepia to a lighter color, akin to the inside of a water chestnut. It was almost as if the cup had been constructed by a beginner and then drenched in magisterial color by a master. The sencha had tasted just as good from that cup as it had from any of the others, despite the challenge of grasping it with any semblance of comfort.

The last cup had been only a few months ago: well-designed, with a near perfect handle, easy to hold. The foot and interior of the mug was a smoky gray, well-trimmed, but the exterior body of it was a white raku crackle, twisting patterns of scale-like ivory and black outlines, small dots sprinkled in between where the unevenness of the heat must have interfered in the firing process.

When he reached the very bottom of the vessel, having finished his tea, it had been gilded gold, metallic and astonishingly bright, catching the light of the sun coming through the farthest window, where he sat in the corner alone.

He had sat there staring at it for the better portion of an afternoon. It was a peculiar artistic choice.

This sencha is good, too, he thinks as he takes another sip, here with Sakura, also at a table in the farthest corner, looking out another window. Herbaceous, earthy, and light, and in a cup that matches hers. It feels cleansing on his sore throat, corrosion, not too hot but not lukewarm, either; a rather perfect medium between mellow and astringent. It is a nice way to greet the break of day.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she murmurs, after they’ve been seated for a few seconds.

He nods; she’s still flushed as she says it. He can see it better now, in the bright light of the window. He takes another sip, and continues to enjoy looking at her.

“How is yours?” She asks.

“...I like it.” He considers his next words. “You didn’t add lemon.”

Her lips quirk upward, dimple appearing. “It doesn’t go the best with the lavender. They only have this kind on hand for the springtime.” She pauses, then adds, “I still put lemon in pretty much all my tea, otherwise.”

Sasuke inclines his head again, and she takes another sip.

They sit there for a while in a comfortable silence, watching more of the village wake up and people pass by from the window, on their way to work and other responsibilities. There are two small birds across the street, perched on the awning over an apartment building’s entrance. Finches, he deduces by their plumage and size. Perhaps they are looking for a mixture of materials with which to build a nest.

“It’s a good place to just sit and watch, in the morning,” Sakura mentions after a while, still looking out the window contentedly.

“...Is that your favorite thing about it?”

She meets his eyes, then, and smiles. “One of them.”

He looks at her expectantly, so she continues. “The tea itself is good. It’s close to the hospital, and I like... “ Her voice trails off, and she glances over at the station where she added cream and honey, lips still turned upwards. “I like that they don’t overfill the cup; it makes it easier to add what it needs.”

A ghost of a smile overtakes him. Practical, as always.

Sasuke finds himself contemplating what kind of teacup the elderly lady would give Sakura, if he took her there.

XXX

"You're a little on the skinny side for your height, now," Sakura notes as she writes down his information on the form he's given her, stepping off the scale; 163 pounds. "Not unhealthy, necessarily, but you should try to put on some weight."

They are at the hospital, in an exam room this time instead of her office. Her voice has shifted to something more professional, and Sasuke knows he is now with Sakura the clinician, though her affection is still an undercurrent in the way she's looking at him carefully with warm eyes. She’s already measured his height, and has his paperwork from his last physical to compare it to; apparently he’s grown another two inches since then.

He hopes he’s done growing, in that regard. It doesn’t seem likely that she’ll grow any taller; she’s twenty now, and they already have a considerable height difference. He doesn’t know how tall she is, exactly. He must hover over her by at least six or seven inches.

"Okay," He responds, because he trusts her judgment. Being away and mulling on his failures never gave him much of an appetite. Being back in Konoha hasn't much either, so far, but he can try. “How much?”

She looks somewhat surprised that he asked. “160 to 196 pounds is considered a normal range for six feet; I’d start with ten, and then evaluate from there.”

He nods. Her eyes linger on him, as if she’s contemplating saying something more. When she turns to set down her clipboard and grab the cuff typically used to measure blood pressure, he thinks she must have decided against it, whatever it was. He goes to sit in the patient’s chair, familiar with the routine at this point. He's gotten a physical near every year of his life that he’s spent in Konoha.

She sits on the wheeled chair that’s next to the desk, rolling it closer to him. He extends his right arm, and as she carefully adjusts the cuff, she tells him, tone casual, “You’ve got an inch on Naruto, now.”

There is a very stupid and juvenile part of him that takes immense satisfaction in this news, but she doesn’t look like she’s finished speaking yet. He waits for the rest.

She smiles apologetically. “He’s got about fifteen pounds on you, though. There’s some motivation for you.”

He pins her with a pointed stare, unimpressed but also a little amused. Motivation, indeed.

Her expression turns somewhat guilty, now. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I did his about a month ago; he came back from a mission with a cracked rib, and it needed to be updated.”

She starts increasing the pressure, and he suddenly becomes aware that she is closer to him than before, by the nature of the operation of the equipment. He had become aware of her physical proximity at roughly this point in the exam the last time, too.

He’s thankful it doesn’t seem to affect his blood pressure. “105 over 70; good,” she concludes, before reaching to remove the cuff from his arm. Her fingertips make brief contact with his skin, this time, and he has to fight an urge to shiver, even though they’re warm.

She picks up her pen to input this information in the appropriate slot, then sets it aside and puts away the cuff. When she turns back to him, she says, “Heart rate is next. Hold out your wrist, please.”

He holds out his right arm again, letting his elbow rest on the surface of the desk this time. Both of her hands come to grip his single one, lightly and carefully feeling for his pulse. He tries to hold very still, and to not think about how soft her hands are. He distracts himself by preoccupying his gaze with the clock on the wall behind her. It feels like a very long thirty seconds, though he knows by watching the hand tick that it’s actually not.

She doesn’t vocalize what the number is, just removes her hands finally and reaches for the pen to fill it in on the paper. He wonders if it was elevated.

“Heart and lungs next.” She reaches for the stethoscope, positioning it in her ears before leaning in to listen to his heart first, over his shirt. He looks to the ceiling.

It doesn’t take very long. “Sounds good. Lungs, next.” She gets up and comes around the chair slightly behind him. He shifts to pull the back portion of his shirt up to his shoulder; he remembers this from the last exam, too.

“It’ll be cold; I’m sorry,” she warns gently, before pressing the instrument to his back. She is nothing but professional as she asks him to take a few deep breaths. Routine, and very careful not to touch his skin with anything but the diaphragm of the stethoscope, cool metal.

It feels… different than the last exam. He had been a little on edge during this part, then, too, even though she was nothing but professional then, as well.

He is just… very aware that she is behind him, and that his shirt is pulled up, and she’s listening to him breathe and can see the skin of his back. And that he's kissed her.

The coolness slips away after a short amount of time. “Lung function sounds good.” He pulls his shirt back into place, feeling a faint sense of relief as he does so. She goes back to document her findings on the paperwork.

She then lays the stethoscope back in its appropriate place. Scanning the page, she asks, “Any issues with your hearing?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Sasuke responds. She dips her head in acknowledgement, filling in that box with what he assumes is non-applicable.

“Sense of smell?”

He recalls raspberries and antiseptic. “No.” She fills another box.

“Sinus or lymph node issues?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m assuming you’ve used the Sharingan and Rinnegan since last time, so I’ll look at your eyes towards the end.”

He nods, and she reaches for a light instrument to use to look at his throat, as well as one of the wooden sticks from a glass jar in the corner. “Throat next,” she says, flicking the light on.

He tries not to furrow his brow. He wasn't looking forward to this part.

He opens his mouth for the wood, reedlike and firm against his tongue, and then she’s shining the light in and frowning.

“Say ah, please.”

He complies, feeling quite undignified, though he knows it’s necessary and just part of her job. She removes the stick after a second, setting the flashlight instrument aside, and he closes his mouth.

"Teeth and gums look good, and your tonsils look fine, but your throat looks a little raw. Have you been sick recently?"

"Yes." It is technically the truth, though not in a viral sense.

She looks thoughtful as she’s making a note on her clipboard. “Within the past week?”

He nods. She must see him from the corner of her eye, because then she asks, while still writing, “Any other symptoms? Cough? Does it feel sore?”

“No.” He pauses, then clarifies. “No cough. A little sore. Not bad.”

Verdant eyes flick up to him for a long moment. He feels somewhat guilty; even if he knows the truth, she might be thinking right now that he’s been irresponsible, that he may have given her an illness via kissing.

She breaks eye contact eventually, and sets the pen down, standing to open the uppermost cupboard door in the exam room. His brow furrows, until she’s pulling down a small box that he sees has cough drops in them.

“We only have mixed berry; they’ll be kind of sweet, but it should help. Take a few for later, and put one in now, please.”

Sasuke blinks, and then takes a handful. He puts all but one in his pocket, and then unwraps the one left in his hand, putting it in his mouth, as she asked.

She arches to put the box back in the cupboard, and he forces himself to look elsewhere.

It does feel good on his throat, soothing. “...Thank you,” he says after a few more seconds, as she makes another note on his form.

“You’re welcome,” she replies. Then, back to clinical Sakura. “Any other issues? Abdominal, neurological?”

“No.”

She flips the page. “Infectious disease screening questions are next. Obviously you’ve traveled outside the village in the past 21 days, but have you been outside of Fire Country in that time?”

He thinks. “Rain, about thirteen days ago. Wind, 19 days ago.”

Sakura inclines her head, and writes in the information. He notices she keeps her eyes trained on the questionnaire now. “Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person with measles, mumps, or chickenpox in that time period?”

“No.” She checks the 'no' box.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person or source in that time period for any of the following: botulism, diphtheria, E. coli, encephalitis, hemorrhagic fever, hepatitis, influenza, listeriosis, malaria, meningitis, pneumonia, rabies, severe acute respiratory syndrome, smallpox, or yellow fever?”

“No.” He watches her check several 'no' boxes.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person in that time period who may have exposed you to any sexually transmitted infections?”

He’s glad she’s looking at the paper still, even if that answer is obvious. “No.” She checks several more 'no' boxes.

“And you didn’t have a fever earlier.” She checks another 'no' box. “And sore throat, but no shortness of breath at any point?”

“No.”

“Vomiting or diarrhea?”

“...Vomiting, yes,” he answers honestly. “No to the second.”

She nods, as if she knew that already from looking at his throat. She probably did. She’s good at what she does.

“Any kind of rash?”

“No.”

That’s the last question on the page, so she turns to the next one.

“Next is bloodwork. We’ll do a cholesterol screening, in regards to heart health, and then we’ll also do a general workup and run it for any infectious diseases. I don’t think we’ll find anything if it’s just the vomiting and resulting sore throat, but better safe than sorry.”

She then starts getting out the necessary supplies with which to get a blood sample. It doesn’t take very long; he holds out his right arm again, and Sakura finds the vein easily. “You’ll feel a pinch.” Within sixty seconds it’s over, and she’s pressing and holding the cotton to the dot of red before taping over it, a small pressure dressing.

“Leave that on for a few hours, please,” she advises, and he nods to indicate that he will. She makes quick work of labeling the blood sample, and sets it aside with the clipboard, he assumes for the end of the appointment.

She scribbles in a few more comments on the sheet, he assumes for whoever is running the tests. “Okay, just eyes and arm left. We’ll do eyes first. Any deterioration in vision that you’ve noticed?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll shine the light to check your pupils quick before I use chakra to look at them.” She grabs a different light tool, a penlight, and turns it on, before looking at him expectantly.

He blinks, curious what she’s waiting for, and then she asks softly, “Could you move your hair out of the way, please?”

Oh. He complies, and she shines the light in one eye, moving it slightly and monitoring the progress. She then does the same to his Rinnegan.

“Reactivity is good; no signs of defect.” She sets the penlight back where it belongs, then makes a note in his paperwork indicating that. Then she’s shifting her chair a tiny bit closer, so she can reach his eyes with her hands.

“Do you have a preference, which one I start with?” She asks. He shakes his head. “Okay; I’ll check the right eye first.” She reaches out with her left hand, pressing her thumb above his eye over his eyebrow, and her other four fingers lightly to his temple, just next to his eye socket.

Sasuke tries not to dwell on how close she is again as green chakra drizzles into his ocular system; he keeps his vision trained forward, as he knows he’s supposed to as she examines. There is a freckle on her right ear that he remembers focusing on, the last time; he does this time, too.

Around thirty seconds passes, before she informs him, “I’m going to funnel some chakra into the retina and optic nerve here; there’s some damage.”

He had suspected there might be, though his vision has not suffered; mostly there was just a bit of pain, sometimes. He hasn’t overworked it by any means, but he hasn’t completely abstained from using it since he’d last been healed by her, either. “Okay.”

The flow of her chakra works its way deeper, more of it now. This part has always relaxed him; her chakra really is quite calming, careful and gentle, threading its way behind his eye and wrapping around the nerve.

She works for about five minutes before the chakra starts to let up.

“...There. That should be a little better,” she says before lifting her hand from his right. “Look up, down, please.”

He complies.

“Left to right, now.” He does. “Good. Does it feel okay?”

He nods, meeting her eyes again finally. It feels stronger, no pain. He decides to verbalize that, even though he’s already nodded. “It’s better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him. “Good.” Then she’s detailing whatever she’s supposed to detail in the paperwork, before setting the pen down again.

“Left eye now.”

She repeats the process, frowning again. “There’s some damage here, too. I’ll fix it.”

This time, it takes longer; not quite ten minutes, but fairly close. He tries to focus on the wall behind her.

He had asked her once, when she was healing him following the war, if it used a lot of chakra. She had said not necessarily, but it depended on the level of damage. She also told him that it was moreso a delicate process, requiring careful manipulation, so he has tried not to talk during any healing sessions since.

When her hand finally pulls away, he’s gotten so used to the contact that it feels like a loss.

“Look up, down, please,” she requests again. Then left to right.

“Function looks good. How does it feel?”

“Better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him gently, just Sakura again for a second, before turning back to the form to finish the optical section.

Then, she turns the page. “Arm is last. Could you please roll up your sleeve to your shoulder?” He grabs his empty left sleeve with his right arm and starts shifting it upwards, rolling it so that it stays put once it’s to the top.

She touches the end of what’s left of the limb with careful fingers, soft but steady on marred skin and scar tissue. “I’ll look with chakra in a second, but any redness that you’ve noticed?”

“No.” He shifts his gaze forward, because her fingertips really are softer than he remembers.

“Any areas that occasionally feel warmer than is typical?”

He shakes his head.

“Swelling of any kind?”

“No.”

“Have you been stretching it as instructed?”

He meets her eyes, then. “Yes.” He wants her to know he listens to her recommendations.

Soft jade, and she’s smiling again. She moves her hands away momentarily, and grabs the clipboard with the papers, checking several boxes as he has indicated. He looks back forward.

“Any phantom limb pain?”

“Sometimes.”

“Residual limb pain?”

“...Sometimes.”

Her gaze flicks upward. “If you had to rate it on a scale, one being hardly anything and ten being the worst?”

“...Usually two or three.” He pauses, and she waits. “...Sometimes four or five.”

“How often, for the worst of it?”

He thinks. “Maybe twice or three times a month.” It’s a bit more often than that, but not by a lot.

She notes it on the paper; that must be a normal range. “Alright. I’ll check with chakra, now.” Her fingers come back to his stump, touching more firmly now. Green chakra starts to thread its way in.

Sakura frowns, after a second. “Nerve endings are a little inflamed. I’ll fix it.” The flow of her chakra increases, and he feels almost instant relief; he supposes it still hurt, faintly. Maybe he just got used to it. “Has it hurt in the last day or so?”

“...Late last night.”

She nods, as if that makes sense. “It won’t take too long. Maybe five minutes.”

He inclines his head just barely, not wanting to move while she’s working.

“You should let me know if it hurts again,” she suggests quietly, after a moment. “It doesn’t take much to fix.”

“...Okay.”

There is a comfortable silence for a few minutes as she works. He feels the chakra start to dilute a little towards the end of it.

“I’m going to stop my chakra and manually massage the tissue, now. It should help prolong the effect.”

He feels her chakra dissipate. She has done this to him before, throughout the rehabilitation process following the war; it was more important then, she’d said, to develop tolerance to touch and pressure of the residual limb. It had hurt, the first few times, but later in the healing process, he had secretly enjoyed it; it made it hurt much less, and the process itself felt… nice.

He had privately wondered what it would feel like on his back.

It elicits the same response now, too, kneading fingertips gradually increasing pressure to access deeper tissue, helping to work away pain that has lived there for a while.

"You wear your hair differently now," she comments after an incredibly nice period of time, still pressing tenderly in little circles, though the pressure is starting to taper off now, since they’re getting towards the end of five minutes; that was roughly the time she would do back then. Since there’s no chakra anymore, it must require less of her concentration.

He realizes he hasn’t shifted his hair back into place yet, then. He takes a moment, then responds quietly, furtively, "Most people dislike looking at the Rinnegan."

She doesn’t respond right away; just finishes massaging the end of his stump, then removes her hands to pick up her pen.

"Not me," she murmurs softly as she makes her final notations.

His heart flips in his chest, and he feels his face grow warm. He's glad she's focusing on the forms, so she can't see the effect her words have had.

The lozenge has dissolved fully, and his throat isn't as sore.

XXX

Sasuke goes to the Hokage’s office, after, to see if the dobe is there. He has some time to kill before lunch, and he wants to take him up on his offer to spar at some point, given that his eyes are freshly healed. Now that he knows Sakura’s schedule for the next few days, he can fill the rest of his time with whatever else. He’ll see her tomorrow at four, at the hospital, and then at Ichiraku’s on Saturday, and then for a bit after, too; they still need to confirm an actual time for that with Naruto and Kakashi. He assumes Sunday and Monday must be her days off. If they’re not, she works too much. He’s going to ask her tomorrow, he thinks.

Oddly, he finds only Kakashi in his office.

“Ah, Sasuke. Good morning,” he greets as he walks through the doors.

“...Morning.”

The copy ninja sizes him up with a single eye for a long moment, as if considering what to ask him. Sasuke braces himself.

"You got your physical done."

Sakura had said after the bloodwork was complete, she’d drop off the paperwork for him. "...I did."

"It went well, I assume."

"...It did."

"Wonderful," he says quietly, sounding pensive.

There is a very long pause.

“And the date, with Sakura this morning, before that? That went well, also?”

Sasuke deliberates. There is no teasing lilt to his old sensei's voice this time, just genuine curiosity, so he answers honestly, even though his neck warms and he doesn’t quite appreciate being spied on. “...It did.”

Kakashi gives him one of the widest and most genuine smiles he has ever seen him wear, beneath the mask.

“Wonderful,” the copy ninja says again, this time teeming clearly with pride and meaning.

“...Yeah.” Sasuke agrees, looking anywhere but at him.

Kakashi shuffles a few papers around his desk, and starts talking again, as if Sasuke has not just admitted to something he’s sure their sensei had suspicions about for the better portion of eight years. “Well, Naruto’s not here; I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for. Hinata’s leaving for a mission later today, around one, so I gave him the day off. I kind of assumed he’d use the opportunity to seek you out for a spar in the afternoon, after she leaves. He was going on about it yesterday, along with a Team Seven dinner on Saturday night; sounds like that will be at six.”

Sasuke just blinks, gears turning still; the scroll from yesterday is still on the desk, so he's not sure why he'd grant Naruto another day off so easily.

Kakashi further clarifies, smile shifting into something more sly. “I wouldn’t go over there before a little after one, if I were you.”

His first thought is oh, and he feels rather stupid. His next thought is gross. His old sensei is grinning, as if his reaction amuses him; he must have made some kind of face that belayed his internal thought process.

“Ah, love requited and besotten newlyweds. What a time." Sasuke's neck burns again, because he realizes after a second that the ‘love requited' portion of that is referring to Sakura and himself. Kakashi's moving on, though. "Anyway, now that I’ve given you too much information…” His voice trails off, and he looks at the intricate scroll tucked away at the table beside his desk, where Naruto usually sits. “If you’re not busy and want something to do until lunch, you could take a look at this scroll for me, since Naruto won’t be getting to it today.” He appears to be thinking, then adds. “For all his progress, he can still be less than perceptive, in certain instances. Your assistance could be invaluable, since I’m occupied with other tasks at the moment.”

Sasuke ponders for a bit; he has already read a good portion of the way through his books, and it’ll be a few hours before he needs to eat. It's not lost on him that this involves a level of trust in him on Kakashi's part, as whatever is in the scroll is likely not public knowledge.

He decides it can’t hurt, though he hopes he doesn’t get asked any more questions about Sakura. He makes his way to take Naruto’s seat, opening up the scroll.

He stares at it long and hard, rolling it out on the table to examine it more closely. Kakashi wordlessly grabs the stapler on his desk and sets it on the top end of the parchment, to hold it in place as he further unravels it. It appears to be a cipher, and quite a complicated one.

“...You think Naruto’s going to be able to crack this?” Sasuke questions incredulously, glancing towards his old sensei with his brows furrowed in doubt. His eyes catch as he does so on the framed photograph sitting on his desk; from this angle, the side instead of the front, he can now see that it’s their original Team Seven photo. He hasn't seen it in a long time.

Kakashi chuckles, not looking up from his paperwork. “Not at all, which is why I was helping him with it yesterday. It’s good practice for him, though, and at the very least, it does keep him busy when I don't have anything else for him to do.”

XXX

Sasuke ambles back to his apartment around noon. He made some progress on the cipher, enough that Kakashi said Naruto might actually be able to take it from there. It feels good to be of use.

It also feels good to have something to give the idiot shit over, when he goes to visit him later.

He empties the cough drops from his pocket into one of the cups he bought yesterday, and pops another one into his mouth before he starts getting out ingredients to cook. It feels good on his throat, menthol pleasantly numbing despite the slightly sweet taste. He pours a hefty amount of rice into a pot to start boiling, and then begins slicing carrots and scallions and mushrooms for takikomi gohan. It takes a while to slice with one arm, as holding the vegetables in place with one hand is a challenge, but he manages by summoning a clone. Once he’s done, he slips them in a pan with some salt and dashi stock. He also adds frozen peas before covering it with the lid to simmer.

Once that’s going, he washes his hand, then folds the comforter he had washed and left out to dry this morning, ultimately storing it in the closet. He stirs the vegetable mixture occasionally, after, reading more of his book while he waits for the rice to finish. The one about kenjutsu is more interesting than he thought it would be. He might finish it by the time he sees Sakura tomorrow.

He really hopes he can walk her home again; he hadn’t gotten a chance to kiss her today. She might not want him to, if she thinks he's sick, but somehow he suspects she likely understood it wasn't actual illness. She's good at what she does, and smart.

It’s a simple but savory lunch, a larger portion than he’s accustomed to. He eats all of it, albeit slowly, as he reads.

Uncannily, an abrupt and earsplitting knocking erupts on his door as he puts the last bite in his mouth to chew.

“TEME! Open up!” More incessant knocking. “I’m fucking bored, and Kakashi-sensei gave me the day off! Let’s spar!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and closes his book before standing to rinse his dish, setting it in the sink to wash later, along with the pot and pan already rinsed and stacked there.

“Alright, dobe. You don’t need to bust down my door.”

He grabs another cough drop and removes the tape and cotton from his arm before he goes. It’s a little tender, but the blood has clotted by now.

[fortunaaamajor]

Something in the Way (Fred Weasley)

Fred Weasley x Reader

The trope of everyone else knowing two people are in love before the two have figured it out is just so adorable to me, I love reading it so thought I’d try my hand at writing it...

Fem!Reader, no house mentioned, no specific physical features

Warnings: None I don’t think

Word Count: 1.6k

Although I am using the Harry Potter universe as a basis for this story I do not support JK Rowling or her views.

Fred and Y/N’s relationship was special, everyone knew that. What they shared was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was loving and tender, both always willing to put the other first whatever the cost. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was lasting, for the last three years they had been looking at each other like they were the sole reason for the stars in the sky, the mists on the mountains and the full, glowing moon. 

Except Fred and Y/N’s relationship didn’t exist. The two had been dancing around each other all this time, never quite getting close enough to call it love.

This was why their family and friends were on high alert, overanalyzing every look, comment, or touch exchanged by the pair. Sometimes it was the glance thrown by Ginny to George as Fred adjusted Y/N’s scarf to keep her warmer. Sometimes it was Mr and Mrs Weasley whispering conspiracies about how they couldn’t pinpoint the look in Fred’s eyes when he stared at Y/N intently at dinner earlier. Sometimes it was the abrupt and secretive silence that engulfed Harry, Hermione and Ron when Y/N appeared in front of them, bringing an end to their discussion about how oblivious the two were.

Just the other day at the Burrow the twins had been helping to decorate the tree when Molly had piped up 

“Will Y/N be visiting this Christmas?” Fred’s head whipped round to frown at his mother as he finished adjusting some of the shiny muggle ‘tinsel’ Arthur Weasley had gleefully presented to his family, 

“Why would Y/N be visiting?” he had questioned, shaking his head slightly and looking towards George, who averted his eyes towards a particulary intriguing bewitched bauble. 

“Oh no reason,” Molly’s face fell “I just wanted to make sure she had some plans is all, dear...”

“Yeah, she does. She’s away until the new year actually” Fred had huffed, confused as to why his mother seemed more keen to spend time with his best friend than with him.

It was a frosty Saturday in January that Y/N had sent an owl saying she was popping in that afternoon to check out the stock for the new year. The air was clean and crisp yet cold enough that not many shoppers were braving the chill to visit Diagon Alley. The boys leant against the counter, George fumbling with some packaging distractedly. Ron was also working that day, taking his sweet time stacking some Blaze Boxes in the corner. Fred’s eyes kept darting to the clock, 

“When did she say she’d stop by again?” he asked nonchalantly, causing George to look up

“Eh, just said afternoon I think mate, don’t worry though I’m sure we won’t be too busy to have her in” he gestured to the empty shop. 

Fred stayed silent. In the corner a loud bang erupted as Ron dropped one of the boxes. Bright sparks whizzed round the room, popping and fizzing as Ron stood swearing at the front of the shop. George began to laugh but was interrupted by his twin, fist was clenched and brow furrowed - 

“Bloody hell Ron, save some stock for us to actually sell, would you?”

Fred’s tone was snarky and a comment that biting sounded so strange leaving his mouth that it took all three boys aback for a moment. 

“I’m not sure who spiked your cereal this morning but you can lose that tone with me... maybe when Y/N gets here you’ll be a bit nicer!” Ron pouted.

“Y/N’s clearly forgotten about her plans for this afternoon, or she’d be here by now.” Fred muttered, pushing past George on his way to the stock room. 

George and Ron exchanged familiar confused looks, over the three years Y/N had been in Fred’s life an entirely new language of bewildered or disbelieving stares had formed amongst the Weasleys. Fred didn’t emerge until the bell above the door rang and Y/N’s soft voice greeted them all joyfully. As if a weight had been lifted off his chest he bounded past the till and embraced her tightly. 

“I missed you, loser.”

Only a week later, the twins were sitting opposite each other, both focusing on checking the shop’s accounts (or so Fred thought) George had been turning the last interaction between his brother and Y/N over and over in his mind, wondering how on earth Fred hadn’t connected his bad mood to the absence of his dearest ‘friend’. He coughed and sat up, straightening his back, but failed to make eye contact with his brother who was still hunched over the large leather-bound book.

“Why do you think Y/N is single?” he pondered aloud, noting the way Fred’s head flicked up at the mention of her name alone. 

“That’s obvious - nobody we know is good enough for her.” Fred stated, as if George was silly for not considering such a simple explanation. 

“Ah yeah... obviously,” George coughed, attempting to hide his laugh. He made eye contact with his twin “are you sure we don’t know anyone?” he asked slowly, hoping Fred might finally catch on.

“Listen, I don’t know what this is all about but if you’re thinking of trying anything I would advise you to check the mirror to confirm that you closely resemble a mountain troll.. and I know it’s been 2 days since you last showered, therefore Y/N would never even consider it, okay?” Fred snapped 

George spluttered with laughter before managing to stammer out 

“First off, we’re identical you absolute savage.” 

Fred just shook his head, “Anyone with taste knows I’m the better looking twin.”

Fred wasn’t just fiercely protective of Y/N but he would also go to the ends of the earth for her, this much was clear to everyone...except her. It started with one, two, three butterbeers on him and developed into Y/N being able to attend plans with the twins without her purse. It was established that Fred would not allow her to part with as much as a knut whilst in his company. Nor would he allow her to spend it on his company, any product she showed interest in (or looked at for more than five seconds) was hastily put aside for her, sometimes with a shimmering ribbon clumsily knotted round it. 

“As a gift, on the house, absolutely no need for your money darling” he would assure her every single time. 

In fact, the only payment he would accept was if she came to work for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes - “you’d be amazing, Y/N you’re so good with kids, and I know you can really push sales - who could say no to you?” he had pleaded, whilst she flushed red and chuckled... “funnily enough Freddie, pretty much everyone apart from you can say no to me, you poor sod!”

This hypothesis was correct, and had been proven time and time again. When everyone gathered for dinner at Harry and Ginny’s house instead of apparating in Fred, Y/N and George had stood shivering on the doorstep, waiting for the door to be answered. When Ginny pulled it open all three of them bundled in to the warm hallway, slipping off coats and hats. 

“Why didn’t you guys apparate? It’s bloody freezing out there tonight!” she had remarked, noting that all three had cheeks flushed with cold and pink shading the tips of their noses. George tutted and glared at Fred, speaking lowly so only Ginny could hear 

“Because, my dear sister, Y/N doesn’t really like apparating so obviously Fred wouldn’t allow it!”  At the same time Y/N piped up, not having heard his comment,

“We all fancied a walk I think didn’t we Freddie?... George?”

George rolled his eyes but nodded enthusiastically and Y/N beamed as Ginny led them through to the dining room as the feeling in their fingertips began to return. 

The spread that had been prepared looked divine, the smell travelled through the whole house and made Fred’s mouth water. 

Food was shared around and wine poured, everyone caught up on the excitement of Christmas and the New Year, and congratulated the twins on the  soaring sales of the new launch. George took the chance to mention his new girlfriend, Guenevere, to the group - causing Ginny and Hermione to squeal with delight and Ron to lean over and smack him on the back in congratulations. Harry nodded along with the conversation, focused on the plate infront of him. That is, until he looked at Fred quizically

“When do you think you’ll meet someone, Fred?” he asked gently, with not a hint of malice in his voice, if anything he was trying to nudge Fred’s thoughts of the future towards Y/N, who sat on his left. 

The atmosphere in the room felt a little like a joke that everyone except Fred and Y/N were in on, everyone waited with baited breath for Fred to talk. They gasped slightly when he turned to face Y/N... then George...

“Um, I don’t know, really, at the moment I’m alright just hanging out with George and Y/N, they’re all I really need just now... and you guys, of course, and the shop. But that all goes without saying”

The entire table let out a frustrated sigh, they had been so close but were once again disappointed with his answer, Fred was none the wiser. 

‘Goes without saying my arse’ George (and the others) thought grumpily. All they wanted was Fred to say it, to say anything, to call it what it was.

The two had been dancing around each other almost four years, still never getting close enough to call it love.

A/N: Thought I’d give another bit of Fred writing a go, as my George one has been so much more popular than my last Fred one, give the boy a chance! Also this kind of invites a part two, so if anyone has any suggestions of scenarios in which these two finally get together, send em my way. Much love.

[thiswasinevitableid]

71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

------------------------------------------

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

----------------------------------------------

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

------------------------------------------

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

-----------------------------------

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

[flamingfalcon3]

Hello! I have finally finished the first chapter of my first Jori fanfic. I’m still trying to get a feel for the character interactions but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it! I’m gonna start posting to ao3 once i get that account set up (and figure out a title lol) but I might as well post the first chapter here! Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Jade knew her girlfriend was hiding something. 

Tori was not a hard person to read. Hell, the girl practically wore her heart on her sleeve. It was so easy to guess what she was feeling at all times that Tori had all but given up trying to conceal her emotions. 

So, when Jade noticed that Tori was a bit more high-strung and stressed than usual, it wasn’t hard for her to conclude that there was something on her mind. 

It also helped that Tori was an awful liar. 

“What’s up with you?” Jade asked casually during lunch one afternoon.

“Nothing!” the singer squeaked suspiciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain composure. “Nothing is up. Everything is great!”

Jade frowned slightly, not at all convinced, but decided just to drop it for the time being as the rest of their friend group arrived at the table. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sikowitz made them all tapdance while performing a scene to “demonstrate how important it is to stay in character no matter what the character may be doing” or whatever and then spent the rest of the class monologuing about how a squirrel got trapped in his bathroom. 

Jade sighed a breath of relief as the final bell rang and cut Sikowitz off just as he was about to go into detail about the standoff he had with the rodent. The only one seemingly more anxious to get out of the classroom than Jade was her girlfriend, who was out the door before the bell even finished ringing. Their friends glanced at each other in confusion. 

“Maybe she really hates squirrels?” Robbie suggested. The others considered it for a moment before shrugging and forgetting about it a second later, exiting the classroom.

Jade strode over to Tori, who was frantically throwing books into her backpack from her locker. Jade leaned back against the locker next to Tori’s while folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re in a hurry,” the goth commented while watching the girl struggle to cram a science textbook into her bag. 

“Jade!” Tori jumped slightly, seemingly startled by Jade’s presence.

“That’s me,” she responded dryly. “Did you forget about our date after school today?”

The singer’s eyes widened in realization and her hand flew to her forehead as she let out a groan

“Jade, oh my god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” she confessed, clearly feeling guilty she had forgotten they’d planned to have sushi after school ended.  

“It’s alright,” Jade replied coolly, quirking the corner of her mouth up slightly to convey to Tori she wasn’t upset with her. “What’s got you in such a rush anyway?”

Tori paused for a moment, staring down at her converse.

“Oh, umm… I promised my mom I would help her with… something,” she mumbled.

“Something…?” Jade probed, hoping to get a little more context on what had her girlfriend so worked up. Tori, however, would not offer her any.

“It’s not important. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Tori slung her bag over her shoulder before stepping towards Jade and planting a short but sweet kiss to her lips. She then turned and began walking towards the exit. 

“You better! I can’t have people think I got stood up!” Jade called out after her, earning a hearty laugh from her girlfriend as she left the building. 

The goth rolled her eyes, amused by Tori’s refusal to admit what it was she was helping her mother with. It must be super embarrassing or something. 

Jade was halfway through entering her locker combination when she remembered something that gave her pause.

Tori’s parents were out of town for the week. Trina had a showcase and they needed an excuse not to show up. Why would she need to help her mom with something if-?

Jade’s phone lit up with a message from Tori directed towards the group chat, asking if anyone could lend her $100 bucks. The goth furrowed her brows. Tori rarely asked for money, and never more than $10 dollars at a time.

Tori Vega, what the hell are you up to? 

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All Jade could think about for the rest of the day was how strange her girlfriend was acting. She wasn’t responding to her text messages and apparently none of their friends had heard from her either. It wasn’t like Tori at all, and Jade’s curiosity was slowly turning into concern. 

She knew it was silly to be worried. Tori was a big girl, after all. Still, why would she need $100 bucks on such short notice? And what was with her skittish and secretive attitude? 

Maybe she was in trouble with someone. Maybe she needed to pay them money in order to keep them at bay. 

The thought was so absurd that Jade almost burst out laughing as soon as it entered her mind. This is Tori she was talking about. Miss “I have never stayed out past curfew” Vega. Not exactly the type to get tangled up in criminal activity.

Still, Jade couldn’t help but feel uneasy about Tori’s radio silence. It wouldn’t hurt to pay her a visit, right?

15 minutes later she was climbing through her girlfriend’s bedroom window, which Tori for some reason always kept unlocked. Tori wasn’t there, but her backpack was on her bed and her phone was on her desk. Jade let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she sank down onto the bed. Not 10 seconds later she heard the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open. In walked Tori who jumped five feet in the air and shrieked upon seeing someone in her room.

“Jade?” Tori yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” the goth deadpanned. 

“So you broke into my house?” 

“I didn’t break in. Your window was unlocked,” 

“That’s still breaking in!”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes!” 

Jade was about to argue further when she noticed Tori was holding a grocery bag, and its contents looked quite heavy based on how far the bottom was sagging. 

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing towards the bag. Tori glanced at it quickly before fixing her gaze back on Jade. 

“Just some stuff for a science project,” she stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Tori,” Jade huffed. “We are in the same science class. We’re lab partners. We don’t have a science project.”

Tori stammered helplessly, trying and failing to come up with some explanation for what was in the bag. Jade groaned in annoyance, fed up with whatever game her girlfriend was playing.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what’s going on! You know it doesn’t matter what it is since my opinion of you can’t get any low-” Jade was interrupted by a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room. She immediately turned to locate the source of the sound.  

Tori could only watch helplessly as the goth scoured every inch of her room before finally tearing open the doors to her closet. A tiny fuzzy creature emerged from the darkness. And then another. And then another. They kept emerging from the closet until there were seven tiny kittens of various colors and patterns wandering around the room. 

Jade slowly looked back up at her girlfriend, confusion written all over her face.

“How-how did those get in there?” Tori stammered, trying her very best to feign ignorance as all the kittens ran towards her meowing hungrily. 

Unfortunately her “very best” still wasn’t very good. 

“Tori, why were there cats in your closet?” Jade asked, still absolutely bewildered by the scene that was unfolding. 

The singer realized there was no way she could talk her way out of this one, and just gave her girlfriend a guilty look before opening her mouth.

“Remember last week when there was that sudden downpour in downtown Los Angeles?” Jade nodded. “Well, I was walking home from Nozu’s when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I went to check to see what it was and-”

“Wait, you heard strange noises coming from an alleyway in downtown Los Angeles at night and you went to go check it out?” Jade asked incredulously. Jesus, Jade doesn’t know how her girlfriend has managed to survive for this long considering her self-preservation instincts were non-existent. Tori just rolled her eyes in response.”

“As I was saying, I went to go check out what the strange noises were and… well,” she turned to look at the kittens scampering around her bedroom. 

Jade brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“So let me get this straight, you wandered into a back alley while it was raining and found kittens and decided the best thing to do would be to take them home?” Jade was still bewildered by her girlfriend. 

“Well when you put it that way it sounds like a stupid idea,” Tori blushed while avoiding eye contact. Jade sighed but took a step closer to her. 

“I mean, I always assumed you would be one of those lesbians who would have like ten cats but I thought that would start after you moved out of your parents’ house,” she smirked. 

“Hey!” Tori let out a mock-offended gasp while swatting Jade’s arm playfully. “I mean, I probably will have to move out once they come home and discover I’ve been hiding kittens in my room despite my father being deathly allergic to them.”  

Why was Jade attracted to such a moron? 

“Can’t you just give them to a shelter or something?” she asked gently. Tori shook her head softly.

“I thought about it but the pounds are apparently really full this time of year so there’s a significant possibility that they'll get…” Tori paused, unable to even finish the thought. “It’s just… they’ve been through so much in the short few weeks they’ve been alive and I can’t just abandon them now!”

Stupid Tori and her stupid heart of gold. The goth groaned and tilted her head back.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll help you with you’re dumb kitten problem,” Jade’s heart fluttered a little as she watched Tori’s face lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Really?” She gleamed. “How?”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would be interested in adopting tiny kittens. Especially if you go into detail about their tragic backstory and stuff. People are suckers for that kind of stuff,” Jade stated. “You could like, advertise them on The Slap and try to get them adopted before your parents come back.”

Tori chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating Jade’s suggestion.

“That’s… not a bad idea. People advertise things on The Slap all the time,” she hesitated for a moment and her face fell. “Ugh, wait. Trina follows me. If she finds out I’m hiding kittens in my closet she’ll rat me out for sure.” 

Jade closed her eyes and sighed deeply. God, she can’t believe she was about to say this.

“I guess… I could… post about the kittens on my page, or whatever,” she grimaced. Tori’s grin got so wide Jade was concerned her face was about to split in half. 

“You would do that for me?” she exclaimed. “But, your reputatio-”

“My reputation died as soon as I changed my status to ‘in a relationship with Tori Vega’,” Jade snorted. “Kittens would be nowhere near as embarrassing as you.”

Tori was beaming at her girlfriend despite the insult, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around Jade’s neck and peppering her face with soft kisses before finally connecting their lips. The goth let out a content sigh in the back of her throat and attempted to deepen the kiss while pushing Tori backwards to the bed. However, Tori hummed and broke the kiss leaving Jade more than a little confused. 

“Sorry, I-” the singer stammered. “I would feel weird making out in front of…” 

Jade quirked her eyebrows up in amusement.

“In front of… the cats?” she asked, barely suppressing a laugh. Tori nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment. Jade just chuckled and rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Tori.”