#but oh well! it could always be worse. at least i have access to water and can do laundy and stuff. that's big to me

[pensiveant]

I'm in desperate need of a wardrobe upgrade because most of my clothes are literally falling apart and I don't really have anything nice anymore but ughhhh I hate spending money, even though everything I wear is thrift shopped and that's significantly cheaper than buying new stuff but it's still money spent 😭 and also buying clothes is a harrowing body dysmorphia ordeal and it's extra bad that they rarely have things that fit + agree with my intense "this fabric feels wrong and I need to tear my skin off about it" issues. So you can imagine the stress I'm under...... 😔

[stormyweaver]

Alright, so never let it be said I'm not a hypocrite. I'm a huge one. But this has been sitting in my drafts for over two months and I need to post it since it's not going anywhere else lmao. PLUS I'm still reeling from my gnawing obsession with V/ox resurfacing after... y'know idk exactly what triggered it but it happened regardless.

Anyway I'm proud of my dialogue for this one bc that's always something I struggle with when writing, so yeah! Plus the idea of V/ox's first cold in Hell has always just been rattling around in my head. Also it's short, but sweet. So yeah! Enjoy!

Summary: V/ox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alas/tor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way. ~~~

It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 

The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 

He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.

Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.

Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.

He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.

“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”

“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”

Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 

“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”

“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 

Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?...” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 

“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 

Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”

After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.

'He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?' Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 

Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 

As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.

Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 

Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 

Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.

“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch... was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–

“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”

His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 

“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head...” 

“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 

“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it *ever* being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?

“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 

“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “... you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 

Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.

“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 

“Wait, what?”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 

Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…

“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 

“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 

“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”

“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”

“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–

“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 

Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 

“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 

“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 

“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 

Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 

“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”

Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 

“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 

Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 

By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.

Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 

[slashingdisneypasta]

This idea/question popped into my head last night and I think it might intrigued you too. Or at least it'll be fun to think about.

So we know that in the Slasher AU, Rena is dead and Ryan and Kingston are still running their L.V mafia. But what if they were a bunch of slashers? Whether they replace the weasels as the Slasher Villains or they are Las Vegas' group of killers? How much different do you think they and their relationships would be (not just with each other but other people, like Maya and Kingstons parents)? What kind of irl slashers would you compare them to?

If they are slashers alongside the weasels... Ohhh boy Shiny, Poppy, and Lottie are in for a shit show when they get on the road, I imagine.

SLASHER AU SLASHER AU SLASHER AU-

Okay so I saw this and had to get up, fill a hot water bottle and get comfy so I could respond. I'm ready now, here we go.

Slasher!Rena is Freddy down to a T. She's an orphan, she's a Huge Tease, she's terrifyingly cunning, and she'd absolutely come back for her daughter just to use her when she needs her. So Rena's basically herself, but with a taste for bloodshed. As opposed to King and Ryan, Rena probably always had a little bloodlust in her, from childhood; I can see her being bullied when she was little (she was a lanky, awkward thing who looked just like her brother- they called her a boy, boyish, masculine. Said she would never be pretty; that kinda thing. As well as 'poor' and 'orphan'. She and Ry still get adopted by King's parents in this au but that doesn't change the fact they aren't her real mum and dad, and children are cruel) and hating everyone around her (Except Ryan and King). She started hating guys, particularly, even more after she hit puberty and SUDDENLY!! everyone liked her.

As she grew up she became more and more the character we know- addicted to drama. Except its even worse, because... well, she's not satisfied with a little sex. Yes, thats great, but she starts to think that if she can kill... and then go to the funeral, too,... t h a t would be perfect. And of course, she targets kids she grew up with and their families. (And at this point, she's the most popular woman in the little australian farm town. She knows everyone, she's friends with everyone- So she has access, to everyone.)

After they move to Vegas, america's capital of bad mistakes, Rena really hits her perfect stride. Everyone there is her puppet.

(And *cough* I have this thought where, after Poppy/Shiny/and Lottie come to Vegas and meet the Roo's, and Lottie naively thinks she's finally found a parent who wants her (Rena's spinning it like Smartass took her and hid her from her mother- which we both know is nothing but lies), Rena digs into her daughter. She finds out everything that happened, convincing Lottie with gentle motherly touches and warm openness to tell her all her secrets. Then, for fun, Rena sells Lottie out to Greasy)

Slasher!Kingston is Chucky for sure XD Oh! And also Foxy and Stu!! Kingston still seems to think pretty clearly (Unlike, say, Otis or Baby. Or Tiffany. Or Billy.), he k n o w s the difference between right and wrong, he can explain ethics, but he just doesn't care ('wrong's the fun one'). Kingston basically started developing a bloodlust after Rena started killing. He was always pretty popular in school (AFL star) and in town; he was never bullied, but he's always up for trying something new! King's a bit of a thrill seeker (He drove before he had a licence way over the speed limit, he drank before it was legal, he smoked, he did drugs, he was up for really any dangerous stunt, etc), so when he stumbles upon his girlfriend with blood on her pretty face and his old football coach laying still on the ground, he's basically like... 'oh is this what we're doing now?? Well- shit- I'm down! Whadawe do with this??' *gesturing to the body of the man who kindly taught him football all through highschool* Who's next??'

And its not personal for him at all like it is with Rena, he'll kill anyone. Doesn't matter. He has very little in the way of empathy.

King just jumps on board immediately- following Rena's lead but quickly ~flourishing~ on his own. And, being a thrill seeker, he almost blows their cover so so many times! Rena gets so annoyed 😅 She has tied him to a chair with military grade knots through the night before on multiple occasions because they need to lay low now goddamnit!

As for his parents... he would absolutely kill them, no guilt no shame. He doesn't want to, he's not gonna go out of his way to do it (They're his mum and dad! He loves them, in his way), but if they found out about his extracurriculars and they started creating problems then he will shoot them in the heads.

Slasher!Ryan, true to his character, was never a really cruel person (Just complicit)... until Maya** was killed. So, I'd liken him to... maybe... Needy? From Jennifer's Body? After Jennifer and Chip were killed, she lost a l l semblance of being the 'good guy'. She went basically monotone, and just... pissed. And thats definitely Ryan (In the original universe too, but its definitely more violent in this one). Ryan definitely also has a mindless, wrathful Michael Myers thing about him.

He wants to destroy whoever did it, whoever took Maya away. But once its done... he still doesn't feel better. Ryan will never feel better. He's lost something very important inside him, he doesn't care anymore, and it will not ever go back to the way it was. He's like a mindless soldier for King and Rena to use as they will. (To their credit- they do try not to treat him that way though. Thats their brother, who's been with them no matter what since the start, and... they love him. He's their soft spot!! But sometimes they have to use him.)

Ryan goes into dissociative states where he will hurt anyone near him, and King has to hold him back (Which is a struggle- Ryan's stronger then any of them) while Rena forces a pill down his throat; covering his mouth until it goes down and he goes to sleep.

** Maya did not know about Kings and Rena's killings when she was alive. Ryan kept it from her, and though King made some odd jokes sometimes around her, and she might have had some suspicions... she never outright found out.

[cinnamon-bunni]

fun fact: i wrote this all while listening to Positive ☆ Dance Time on loop :) also this fic, which i made quickly in one night, is so much better than my first chapter of my other fic (and the second one too lol) (also this was not reread even once soooo there will be mistakes but oh well <3) i also wanna say this probably takes place between chapters 3 and 4 (both i havent written yet haha ^^;) so i'll probably post this onto ao3 then. just so yall know timeline stuff lol anyways, hope y'all enjoy it <3

Word count: 1.5k Warnings: idealization of suicide

When Kim woke up, the first thing that greeted him was darkness. The second thing was a headache. A horrible way to wake up, but as something Kim was familiar with, he stopped caring.

In an attempt to sit up, his head tried to kill him. So, he went back down with a thump. And not a soft one either, since the couch–because he was on the couch, not his soft and comfortable bed–was more wood and springs rather than cushion and sponge. It made his back ache, in a way that made him want to scream. But alas, he was too tired to, and instead closed his eyes in hopes of falling back into a blissful sleep. It wasn’t going to happen, Kim knew that, but sometimes he liked to cling onto small hopes.

It was silent for a while. Kim almost believed that maybe he fell back asleep, if it weren’t for every part of his body hating him. His throat was dying for water, his head was throbbing, his skin was prickly and felt fake as it rubbed against the shitty fabric of the couch, every single one of his muscles ache, and his brain wanted to turn off and never turn back on. Maybe it would be better if it did just turn off. Then at least he wouldn’t have to deal with days like these.

Turns out, hangovers made everything about a hundred times worse. But that was Kim's fault, wasn’t it? He made that choice, and now he had to deal with it. That’s just how the world works, Kim. He could just hear his dad’s lectures in his head. It made him want to throw himself off of a cliff. And he thought about it, and it didn’t seem that bad of an idea. The world would keep moving either way, no matter if a cockroach like him was at some bar getting drunk or drowning in a river. As long as it was something that would kill the noise in his head, then he didn’t care.

The front door opened. The loud creak announced someone’s presence, and it made Kim squeeze his eyes shut. The action made his eyes hurt, yeah, but he really didn’t want the possible light to pour in and force him to face the world. He didn’t want to, not yet.

“Ji-Ho?” Oh. He didn’t even realize his sister was here. It made sense though; it wasn't like anyone else had access to his apartment. Her voice was quiet and soft, unlike her usual pissy tone she used at him.

Right. Hana. His sister who wrapped up his bloody knuckles after getting brawls or just beating the shit out of punching bags while drunk. His sister who rolled him onto his side after officially passing out. His sister who dealt with his shitty living style and shitting apartment for the summer without much complaint. His sister who always tried to make his world brighter, even if she was bad at it. His sister, who seemed to care about his well being.

Kim forced his eyes open. It was hard, but he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but light was effectively blocked out with the curtains. Some of it still snuck in from underneath the short curtains, and it hurt to look at it. He really should just get used to it by now.

“Ji-Ho.” His sister spoke louder now, probably expecting an answer. It made him wince, but look at his sister.

“What?” God, his voice was so hoarse. He really needed to get something to drink. 

“Don’t you have work today?” Kim furrowed his brow. He probably did in all honesty, but that didn’t explain why he drank so much when he knew he had work. Maybe he just stopped caring. That seemed to be a recurring theme. 

Oh well, wasn’t like he was gonna go now. He’d rather die than step foot into the WVBA. He didn’t even think he could take a step outside of his apartment, much less get in a good set of work clothes, get his ID, and deal with the idiots down at the association. Maybe his sister could keep him company.

Hana then turned on the lights, and Kim wanted to do nothing else but kill her. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, but the damage had already been done.

“Hana,” he groaned, falling to lean against the arm of the couch. “Why would you do this?”

She scoffed, and he could hear her eyes rolling. “You’re so dramatic. Maybe if you drink all the time you wouldn’t be having these problems.”

He grunted at that as a response. He listened as she moved what sounded to be plastic bags, and opened up cabinets. Maybe she went shopping–it was something he knew he needed to do, but always ended up pushing it further down in his to-do list. Maybe now they could eat proper food, like canned soup and frozen pastries. 

Kim, by using every bit of his willpower, pried his eyes open. His eyes took forever to adjust to the harsh light, but he tried. He listened silently as his sister put away what he could only assume was groceries, and focused on how horrible his muscles and body felt.

“Are you still taking me to the match today?”

Huh? What match? Kim didn’t remember there being a match. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don Flamenco’s match!” she exclaimed, as if it was obvious. She slammed a box of chocolate Pop-Tarts on the counter and spun around to face him. “You promised me that I could watch all of Flamenco’s matches in person!”

Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he? He even bought all of the tickets. He didn’t remember that last part, though.

“And I have to go and watch today’s match, because he’s going against Little Mac! I need to see how it goes down in person, Ji-Ho!”

Honestly, Kim wanted to see that for himself, too. Watching Don Flamenco get his ass handed to him by some seventeen-year-old kid would be hilarious. And it would be a good enough time to take a quick detour to buy another pack of cigarettes–he was sure he was getting low, and he hated the feeling of a light box in his pocket.

But also, the idea of going somewhere that was packed with screaming fans made him feel sick. He didn’t want to go into a stuffy room filled where he would sit shoulder-to-shoulder with people who cared too much for some dumb sport. He hated the idea of getting up and forcing himself to go somewhere.

“Can’t you just go by yourself?” She was sixteen, Kim was sure she could handle it. She didn’t need a chaperone to follow her around. She really didn’t need him.

The stomp she gave made him flinch. He hoped the downstairs neighbors didn’t mind some good ol’ ceiling shaking caused by his sister. “What? No fair! You promised you’d go with me!”

“When the fuck did I say that?” No way did he actually make the promise. He never makes promises he knows he won’t keep.

“You said so when I first got here! Now c’mon–it doesn’t start until a few hours, so you have plenty of time to sober up or whatever you need to do.”

God, he didn’t want to go. He wasn’t going, he just couldn’t. Kim knew he was weak because of it, yeah, but the thought of going made him want to pull his hair out and walk into the ocean.

“I’m not going, Hana. You can go yourself.” Oh, now she was angry. Her face was actually getting red and everything.

“That’s not fair!” she yelled. Jesus, was her voice always that shrill and loud?

“Don’t really see the problem,” he replied with a shrug. “You get to enjoy a boxing match that has Don Flamenco in it without me hovering over you all the time. You should be ecstatic.”

“But-”

“Tickets are on my dresser,” he continued. “So don’t forget them when you leave, yeah?”

“You’re horrible!” He shrugged off that one, too. He felt numb to it all. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing, but it made it easy to talk to his sister.

He didn’t even realize that she left until the door slammed. Kim hoped quietly to himself that she grabbed the tickets–he knew she’d regret it if she didn’t. But he didn’t care enough to check.

Now that he was back to being alone, Kim ended up laying back down. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, not on that horrible couch and with his back problems, but closing his eyes felt nice and relaxing.

He knew she was looking forward to it. He knew the WVBA was probably trying to make sure his position was being covered. He knew a few of the boxers were probably wondering where he was. But Kim couldn’t bring himself to care.

He just didn’t care.

[thispit-thelame]

Pokemon White Nuzlocke: Attempt One

Episode 1.2: Crit City

Level Cap: 20

Previous Ep: 1.1

Last we left off we had just beat the first gym, narrowly escaping our first death thanks to Cilian getting an untimely crit. Here's to hoping that our next leg of our journey goes a bit better.

Almost immediately after leaving Striation City we are ambushed by Cheren. Despite us leading Pacifica and Cheren leading Snivy, we get through this fight with little issue.

After a quick trip back to the Pokemon center we find and catch a hasty Pidove named Fugedda (short for fugeddaboutit). The weaker defenses are unfortunate, but a plus speed nature on a pokemone that revolves around outspeeding your opponent is never a bad thing. Unfortunately Fugedda has big pecks instead of superluck as an ability, but also, lol, I may as well have it because Fugedda, along with a little help from the rest of the team, manage to land a critical hit in literally every battle from here to Nacrene. I have given route 3 the unofficial title of "Crit City" and man oh man did it earn it.

The team plasma bit where they steal Bianca's Pokemon was almost a disaster thanks to me constantly forgetting that patrats have bide. Fortunately Pacifica gets a well timed crit and is able to take it out in two turns. Pacifica again is our lead for the multi battle with Cheren against the two plasma grunts. We start the battle off with a strong water gun but have to swap out when it becomes clear that the AI is ganging up on us. We'd likely be safe to stay in for one more turn but a critical hit here would've been devastating so we swap to Broiler instead. A couple turns of incinerates later and we're right as rain.

After resolving the team plasma issue, we take a little poke around Wellspring cave to see what we can find, and end up finding a new friend in a naughty Woobat named Cotton. Not a great pokemon all things considered, but its very quick and has access to some pretty nice moves that lets it be a consistant damage dealer early game, and if I so choose, a good debuffer/suicide lead later on. If nothing else, its pokemon, this is unlikely to be the only cave we'll be running through and getting the "zubat" out of the way early will help us find something more worthwhile down the line.

Despite this being a blind nuzlocke where it is always 100% safer, and 100% smarter to grind on wild pokemon, I have been battling the random trainers on the routes. This finally bites me in the ass when I start battling School Kid Al. Al only has one pokemon, but its a Blitzle, an electric type, which most of my team is weak to. Not only that but its lvl 13, and at this point in my grinding my pokemon are all ~lvl 14, so its not as if we have a huge advantage. Additionally blitzle has access to both charge, and shock wave. Shock wave alone would be bad enough. A 60bp stab move at this point in the game is very dangerous, and one that has been given the boost by charge is cataclysmic. Even worse is that I was leading with Pacifica so we needed to get out of there ASAP. I used a leer, knowing we could survive at least one hit, and blitzle ended up going for a charge. Expecting a shock wave I swapped to Pickles, who indeed does get hit hard by a shock wave but is able to take them out next turn thanks to a crit.

I am slowly realizing how much I hate patrats though. When every chipmunk you run across is a potential grenade, you eventually learn to despise each and every one.

A bit of good news though is the fact that it turns out I miss read pokemondb and Pickles does indeed get intimidate after they evolve. Its a huge help from here on out and Pickles will likely remain in my party until we either run into a fighting gym or I luck out and get 5 other top tier encounters. Intimidate is easily a top 10 ability for me in nuzlockes, especially here in the early game where there's not too much you can do to strategize, especially especially if you know nothing about the teams you will be facing, as I do not.

Well we make it to Nacrene eventually, but instead of tackling the gym yet I decide to head west to see what lies over yonder, and am hoping for another encounter before the gym. It turns out this is the infamous Pinwheel forest I've heard so much about from people trying to nuzlocke gen 5. I vaguely remembered something weird about it that a lot of different people decided to make an exemption for so I ended up looking up what it was. Turns out there's something called the "Pinwheel clause" for nuzlockes. TDLR is that a bunch of people decide to split Pinwheel forest into two different encounters; the outside, commonly referred to as 'Challenge Rock' and the inside of the forest, commonly referred to as 'Pinwheel Proper.' I decide that not only since this is my first romp through Unova that I'll allow myself the Pinwheel clause, but the encounters themselves have always been more fun for me than increasingly tightening my restrictions. This way, at the very least, I'll have two new Unova pokes that I've never used before and now have the chance to. That being said, it turns out the inside is blocked off for now by a wall of team plasma grunts, so no likely flying/grass/bug type poke for me for now.

Challenge rock is open to me for now though and after a quick battle with a nurse who looks to be on break, a Relaxed Tympole named Penzance joins the team, albiet they go to the box for now. I imagine they'll be a great addition to the team eventually with Seismitoad being reasonably bulky, and having a ground type in my 'noticeably weak to electric types' team will be a huge boon.

I do eventually run into a Timbur, and later a Throh here, which would've been really nice since the upcoming gym is normal typed, but I guess we will have to make do.

Thankfully, this time at least, I remembered there was an ambush battle with N before you can access the gym itself, so after grinding up my pokes to ~18, N is taken care of thanks to a combination of Pacifica, Pickles, and Cotton.

We get through the gym just fine and find ourselves face to face with Lenora (love her design btw). Here's the team I've put together for the fight:

Everyone has an Oran berry except for Chestnut who has a Persim berry which I got when I caught Penzance, lucky me!

Since I know nothing about her team, I've picked the pokes who I believe give me the most rounded team, and the most bulkiest one I could bring, which, as you can see, isn't much. The plan is to once again lead Broiler to hit a yawn, and then swap to Pickles who knows workup, and has our second strongest defense defense stat behind Chestnut (which surprises me tbh. I thought Watchog was pretty frail, but I guess this just means that their stats start falling off in comparison to others pretty quick). I don't know what Lenora has as far as team members go, but I suspect that it will be a team of three of Patrat, Herdier, Watchog. What makes anticipating her team harder is that I vaguely remember her blaze black team that has a Boufulant which would be insane to fight right now so I'm dearly hoping that that's not it lol.

I am lowkey nervous for this fight since early normal type gyms are always a danger. Usually normal type pokemon evolve fairly early, and Game freak usually loves to give normal type gym leaders an illegal ace that is fully evolved despite not being at the right level for it. Additionally, usually they have a very strong stab move that you don't have access to yet, usually given to you as a TM after the battle

Here's Broiler and Pickles btw. They're the ones I'll be relying on the most here so I figured I'd give you all a better look at what's under the hood.

The fight starts with me leading Broiler and Lenora leading with her Herdier. I am relieved to see that she only has two pokemon, but that definitely signals to me that the one waiting in the back is either a powerful single-staged poke, or a fully evolved one. I'm still suspecting a Watchog though. Broiler hits a yawn and Lenora retaliates with a take down, which would've just one shot Broiler if it crit. After taking a quick look at the rest of my team, a crit would kill most of my team, so that's great.

My usual strategy for tough fights in nuzlockes is "slow and steady," so I usually waffle when thats not an option if I don't have a designated physical/special tank.

I swap to Pickles who gets an intimidate drop off before taking a take down that does a little over 15%. Herdier falls asleep and thanks to Pickles coming in before it started to sleep, we are easily able to get 2 turns of using work up with no punishment. I believe that in order to one shot whatever Lenora has in the back Pickles will need to be at least +4 attack, so I go for another. Herdier unfortunately wakes up, but Pickles is amazingly able to dodge a take down which means we've got a +3 Herdier with no retaliation whatsoever. Not wanting to push my luck, I have Pickles take it out next turn with a tackle.

Lenora confirms my suspicions and sends in a Watchog in next. It outspeeds and lands a hypnosis which is very annoying, and potentially apocalyptic. I don't really have any other option here since I know this watchog will hit like a tank, so I have Pickles stay in, and they get hit with a nasty Retaliation (there's that strong stab move I expected) which would've just straight up killed Pickles if Lenora used the move as it was intended to be used. Pickles falls from 42hp to 17, which we heal back 10 thanks to an oran berry. Pickles amazingly gets the one turn wake up and hits a tackle that leaves the opposing watchog with ~12% or so, just above the redline.

Pickles doesn't outspeed here, and I don't know when the AI will start to heal here. I decide that if we do indeed get through this gym Pickles will be too invaluable of a member to go down here, so I need to swap them out. Because this watchog hits so hard, I get the fatalistic idea in my head that we aren't getting through this one deathless, and perhaps because I hate facing them so much, and I know that they start to fall off soon, I send in my own Watchog, Chestnut, who I plan on taking the fall.

Lenora does indeed end up healing here, which is unfortunate, but it does mean that Chestnut is able to swap in for free. We outspeed because Chestnut is a speedy girl and hit a crunch that does ~25% while Lenora retaliates with a retaliate that takes about ~45% off of Chestnut.

Its not looking good.

Next turn a crunch does another 25%ish actually gets the defense drop which is huge because I was really debating on just spamming leer until she went down. Even better is that Lenora whiffs a hypnosis, which leaves Chestnut in a wonderful position and it seems like out fates have suddenly reversed. One final crunch and we take out Lenora's Watchog, winning us the 2nd gym deathless!

Post Script:

Again I have a few miscellaneous thoughts I'd like to go over here at the end of the "episode.'

I'd like to talk about the difficulty/perceived difficulty. Obviously things are a little difficult. Its the nature of a nuzlocke, even more so a blind nuzlocke, but that's not what I mean. The fact that we're at the second gym, level 20, and only one of my pokemon has fully evolved is pretty odd when you consider the other games in the franchise. I suppose you could chalk it up to the absence of any bug types up until now, but still. It meas we're lacking some reliable sluggers in terms of stats, and missing the ever useful status moves typical of early game pokemon. Its an odd thing to try and get used to tbh.

I need to clarify and once again state that I don't think that this is an inherently bad change/design decision. I actually think its really really cool how you are only able to use, even see, gen 5 pokemon until you beat the pokemon league. Its a really fun design decision that I wish they would've come back to because it forces you to use new pokes that you might have not even given the chance. Its part of the reason why I love nuzlockes so much. I never used to even consider using a Walrein, but after an Emerald nuzlocke where everything was going to shit, it pulled through for me and has easily become one of my top 10 pokemon.

That being said, its a pretty alien situation I find myself in and struggling to get used to. It seems to me, that in place of having various "early game pokemon" who grow quick and evolve at low levels, but generally have low total stats, we instead have stage 1 or 2 pokemon that might not have the highest of stats, but access to some pretty strong moves, pretty damn early in the game. The easiest example of this is Blitzle who I talked about earlier. A practically guaranteed 90bp move at +1 SpA so close to the start of the game is insane. I get that Blitzle/Zebstrika aren't the most amazing SpA pokes, but those stats are certainly workable and you need to be wary around them. Giving Lenora both take down and retaliate is another great example in that sure herdier/watchog might not be the strongest of pokemon, but at this point in the game, with such strong STAB moves, they're certainly dangerous.

I'm Thinking of adding more photos to these posts yet as well. At minimum I think I'm going to take more detailed pics of the entire team before each gym/major boss fight, just so you all know what I'm bringing to the table. I'd also like to post a pic of what the team looks like immediately after the gym fight so you all can see how much damage we took, and also so you can see I'm not cheating lol. Its something I usually do and I just keep forgetting so lol gotta make sure I do it for the remainder of my playthrough.

As far as thoughts about the game itself go, I find myself a little disappointment in the sound and music design tbh despite me playing on a very real and legitimate DS, I can't help but feel like the sound and music would've hit better back in the day on an original. As it stands though a very 6/10 on the music so far. The main battle theme is a banger though.

And as a final note, a bit of good news! I've actually finished part 3, and I'm hoping to get it out before the end of the weekend, so no waiting another 2 weeks for the next installment as I try to wrangle my ADHD. Its all done and I've taken some meticulous notes to help me keep track of all that I've done.

[bekoobove]

Fazbear Frights #11: Facing Facts

...After months of unemployment, Samuel is hired for a new, decent job, although some of the conditions are a bit uncomfortable…

 How?

 How could something so painful not kill him?

 He stared into the darkness, praying for death.

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 “And remember, the rumors surrounding our establishments are just that- rumors. We here at Fazbear Entertainment pride ourselves on our advanced animatronics and delicious pizza, but we also have top-tier safety measures in place. Rest assured, families and employees alike are in good hands. Now, it’s time to begin your journey as part of the Fazbear Family!”

 The screen faded to static and the tape ejected from the VCR. Samuel sighed with relief.

 The man interviewing him returned to the room. “So, uh, what did you think of the training tape?”

 “It was...fine, I guess.” Samuel responded blandly. Truth be told, it had been the most boring half hour of life, but the guy had been bragging about him being the editor, so honesty may not be the best policy in this case. “Say, what’s your name again? I was so swept away by the video that I forgot.”

 “Oh, thank you! Graphic design is my passion. My name’s Alex, Alex Gramble. And now that that’s done with, it’s time for your first day as a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza employee!”

 “Hooray.” Samuel said dejectedly.

 Alex smiled. “Listen, this is a small town, and news travels fast. I know why you had to come out here, and I figure that wasn’t your plan. But chin up! This job is full of opportunities.”

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 “This is a dead-end career.” Samuel lamented that evening over dinner. “It won’t get me anywhere.”

 “Well, Sammy, I've told you you don’t have to stay.” Grandpa Harry reminded him. “I’ve lived a long, happy life. I don’t want you to give up everything to keep an eye on me.”

 Samuel felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “No, Grandpa, I didn’t mean it like that. Even if no...critical events happen..you still need someone taking care of you. You were an incredible father to my dad, and an incredible grandfather to me. This is the least I could do. Besides, I needed a job anyway. Maybe it was time I settled for something more realistic.”

 “Well, Freddy’s does have those fancy new robots, right?” Grandpa Harry added, poking at his peas. “You’ve always wanted to work with stuff like that.”

 “I don’t get to lay a finger on those.” Samuel rubbed his temples. “They think I’m too inexperienced. For now, they’re just having me harvest parts from the old animatronics.”

 “Those things are still there? I saw ‘em once, they gave me the willies.”

 Samuel sipped some water, a bit nervous. “Trust me, now, they’re much worse.”

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 He wasn’t exaggerating.

 Freddy’s jaw had been pulled loose, making his once cheery grin much more sinister. Holes in his plush suit indicated the removal of parts. Foxy’s legs had been completely stripped, leaving nothing but exposed, oily metal rods. Chica was probably the worst of them, though. Her beak had been forced open, exposing her toothy endoskeleton, and her hands had been ripped off, leaving dirty wires to trail out her stiff arms.

 Samuel spent hours in this room, alone with these...things, occasionally called to remove a part. With every piece removed, they only got more disturbing.

 His walkie-talkie buzzed. Samuel sighed, then answered. “Hello?”

 Alex’s voice came over the radio. “Hey, Sam. So, Balloon Boy’s eyes are malfunctioning. They keep rolling back into his head. We think there’s something wrong with the sockets. Could you open Bonnie’s faceplate and take out his eyes for replacements?”

 “Faceplate?” Samuel inquired.

 “It’s a feature unique to him. There’s a button located on his neck. Pressing it should cause his face to retract into his head. Easy access to all that stuff, y’know.”

 Samuel was impressed. “Wow, whoever designed these animatronics must have been a genius.”

 There was a pause. “Um...yeah. They were. Anyway, get those parts. And remember, take the animatronics apart gently.”

 “You make it sound like I risk hurting them.”

  “It’s just for safety.” The line went dead.

 Samuel walked over to the Bonnie animatronic, slumped against the wall. While Chica was the outright creepiest of the gang, there was something about Bonnie that unnerved him. The only real damage was his arm, which had been ripped off for use in that plastic fox thing (A horrible use of good parts to be honest; that fox was poorly constructed, practically falling apart at the seams). Still, something about his blank stare was scary. Samuel would be glad to rid it of those eerie eyes.

 He quickly located the button and pressed it. Nothing happened.

 Samuel groaned. “We haven’t removed anything from that area. The wiring for that button should still be in place.”

 He pressed it a few more times. Still nothing

 Samuel began to get angry, and started trying to jimmy open the faceplate. “Come on, come on...stupid animatronics, I don’t want to waste the rest of my life here!”

 His anger caused him to use a little more force than he meant to, and the faceplate ripped off. Samuel fell backwards, gripping it in his hands. There was the sound of wires ripping and metal scraping. Samuel hit the checkered floor, his head banging on the hard linoleum. He struggled to push himself up, dizzy from the collison.

 “Oh, geez.” Samuel muttered, gazing at the plate. It was cracked down the middle, not to mention the damage around the edges from when it was first ripped out.

 “Well, probably not a big deal.” Samuel reasoned, setting the part aside, on a small workbench next to Chica. “These things are being scrapped anyway.”

 He quickly got to work removing the eye sockets.

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 He couldn’t taste anything.

 That may not sound that strange. He wasn’t eating a meal or chewing gum after all, so why would he?

 The thing is, while they pale in contrast to that of food, there are always flavors that we detect. From the salty taste of phlegmy spit, to even the subtle bitterness of our own breath.

 He had none of that. It was like a bizarre, mouth-centric sensory deprivation chamber. Of course, most of his other senses were being overstimulated due to how much pain he was in, so it took him a while to notice- a few hours in, at least. But it didn’t take too much muddled, bloodied thought to understand why.

 After all, his tongue was halfway across the room.

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 Have a great day, Sammy!- Grandpa Harry.

 Samuel smiled softly at the note. Grandpa seemed to have stuffed it into his toolbox, a kind little gesture from a man who’d spent his whole life making them. It was far better encouragement than the sticker Alex had given him for the box- a picture of that bright blue rabbit with exaggerated eyelashes, with the words You’re A Rockstar! written around it.

 Still, he was starting to warm up to this place, at least a little. Alex, while a bit irritating, was a kind boss, and it wasn’t too stressful around here- after all, the restaurant wasn’t open yet. He’d even brought a book today, knowing he’d have some free time.

 Whistling, he headed to his back room, and gently pushed open the door.

 He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

 Alex had mentioned that the old animatronics might move around during the night because of minor glitches, but the door would guarantee none made it out as long as it was locked. Samuel had seen some evidence of this- their arms changing position, their heads being turned a different way, even Foxy having moved a few feet to the left once- but not like this. Bonnie was on his knees, and he held an old soldering iron in his only hand. It was frozen, held right up to his head. Said head was pressed against a wall, keeping Bonnie’s faceplate in place.

 Samuel was stunned. “Did- did that thing...try to repair itself?” he stuttered. “No, no, there’s no way. Something that advanced just isn’t possible.”

 After removing the sockets, all that had remained of Bonnie’s eyes were two small, reddish lights. Those seemed to stare at Samuel now, almost angrily.

 Samuel walked towards it, and gently pulled the plate out of its grasp. He didn’t know why- maybe just to see if the robot would snatch it back. Nothing happened.

 Samuel tucked the faceplate under Fredddy’s torso, hoping to keep it out of Bonnie’s sights.

 With that done, Samuel pulled over a stool, and sat down to read. He watched Bonnie out of the corner of his eye, daring him to move.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “So, how was work today?” Grandpa Harry asked as Samuel walked into the room.

 “Eh, it was...fine.” Samuel said, trying not to speak over Grandpa’s shows. He tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Grandpa, I wanted to ask you about...the incident that occurred with the animatronics last year.”

 Grandpa Harry froze, then slowly grabbed the remote and paused the show. “Uh, why do you want to know about that?”

 “I’ve heard some other employees whispering about it. I didn’t really care at first, but working with the animatronics...it’s just, they have some odd behaviors. I know the company tried to keep it quiet, but you live in Hurricane. Surely you heard something?”

 Still staring blankly at the paused TV, Grandpa began to explain. “It was a young man named Walter, just over twenty I believe. Wanted to spend some time away from the big city, and moved out here for the summer. He was such a kind boy- volunteered at the local soup kitchen, polite to everyone- even gifted me some books he’d finished reading. But that doesn’t pay the bills, so he took a job as a night-shift Security Guard at Freddy’s. Two nights went by with little incident- then on the third night, something happened, and he never came home.”

 Sniffling, Grandpa Harry grabbed a tissue from the side table and dried his eyes. “Such a kind boy…”

 Unnerved, Samuel prodded further. “But do you know what happened to him? Like, did they find his...y’know…”

 “They found his body, but the details are ‘classified’.” Grandpa Harry said bitterly. “Fazbear Entertainment putting money in the right mouths to keep them shut, yeah? But two things are very clear: those damned moldy old robots were responsible, and their handiwork wasn’t pretty. I’m glad they’re being scattered and scrapped. They won’t hurt anyone else, right, Sammy?”

 “Right.” Samuel said, clearly not confident in his answer. Grandpa didn’t pick up on that, though. He unpaused the TV, and relaxed back into his chair.

 Samuel quietly left the room.

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 He hoped the thing suffered.

 Yes, this thing- this metal abomination- would be broken apart, split into pieces. If this thing was capable of hatred, it should be capable of pain. But he wanted more.

 He wanted his blood, dripping into the machine, to cause all the circuits to malfunction. No part of the robot would ever work again. It would be smashed, crushed, and forgotten forever- made to suffer, like he was suffering now.

 When would he be free?

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 “See you tomorrow, Samuel. Um, be careful, and like I said, stay away from the animatronics.” Alex reminded him as he put on his coat.

 “Right.” Samuel muttered in response. He’d been given a night shift, since there’d been reports of vandals in the area. After hearing Grandpa Harry’s story, he’d been resistant to the idea, but Management had promised him extra pay, so he relented. And, anyway, the dangerous animatronics were behind the door, so he was safe, right?

 He hardly felt so within an hour. The sounds of whirring gears, electrical sparks, and clamping jaws began to resound from within. Samuel tried to ignore them, continuing to search the street in front for delinquents.

 Eventually, everything quieted, as if the robots had only woken briefly from their slumber to check if the door was locked. But a few minutes later, there came a new noise- the louder, heavy thudding of metallic feet.

 Samuel turned hesitantly, looking down the hall to that foreboding metal door. “It’s just a glitch.” He reminded himself with little confidence. “It’s not...fixing itself.”

 His actions showed his doubt, though. Earlier he’d been sure to remove the soldering iron from the room. Bonnie wouldn’t lay an animatronic finger on it.

 Clearly, that wasn’t enough. Banging began to resound from the room- like metal hitting concrete. The thing seemed to be trying to hammer its face back on with the wall.

 Unlike the others, this sound didn’t stop quickly. It went on for at least ten minutes. Samuel almost felt bad for it- it was just trying to fix itself, right?

 And yet, he remembered Grandpa Harry’s story again. These robotic abominations had cut a good man’s life short. They deserved whatever pain they were going through. There was nothing good in them.

 Finally, Samuel had had enough. He abandoned his post, getting up to storm down the dark hall. Taking the key out of his pocket, he shoved it into the lock and turned firmly, pushing at the same time. The door flew open and hit the adjacent wall with a THUNK!

 Sure enough, Bonnie stood nearby, looking pretty surprised that someone was stupid enough to barge in there. He backed away, moving into a position to leap at Samuel, but dropped the faceplate in the process. Samuel quickly snatched it out of the air as it fell, and slammed the door in the things lack-of-face.

 It shrieked, banging against the solid metal slab as Samuel quickly locked it again. He looked at the fuzzy purple thing in his hand, and noticed something- a small, bloody stain just below its left eyehole.

 Samuel narrowed his eyes and walked away, as Bonnie continued to rage behind him. He ran into the kitchen, turned on one of the ovens, and tossed the faceplate inside.

 The faux fur quickly caught flame, and the rest of the piece quickly followed. All the while, Bonnie was screaming louder, banging harder against the door-

 The faceplate was completely engulfed in fire, and Bonnie fell silent.

 Samuel turned nervously as he shut off the oven. Hesitantly, he returned to the door and knocked, eliciting no response.

 “Uh, Bonnie?” Samuel called out. The silence was far worse than any mechanical scream or furious banging.

 He put the key back in and opened the door slowly. Peeking inside, he saw all the animatronics were still in their proper places, but Bonnie was nowhere to be seen.

 From his left, Samuel heard mechanical shifting. He tried to pull back, but it was too late.

 A rough, bare animatronic hand grabbed him by the face. He felt the sharp metallic parts scratching his nose. Bonnie’s finger jabbed him in the eye. He screamed with pain, hoping someone would hear and come and to help him, unlikely as that was.

 The robot’s grip grew tighter, its claws beginning to break through the skin. It slammed him against the wall, putting its weight against his body, and pulled on his face.

 It used more strength than any cheap pizzeria animatronic should have. From inside his own head, Samuel could hear bone cracking, blood rushing, and tissue snapping. Finally, with one horrible CRUNCH, his skull was ripped loose from his head.

 Samuel should have died at that moment- but he didn’t. His mind, his soul- remained trapped in his skull. He watched his body fall down limply, his jaw hanging loosely as blood cascaded down his neck.

 He looked up at Bonnie, holding his head in its hand. Bonnie tilted his own faceless head, studying the mess of bone and flesh he held.

 After a moment, it slammed the skull into its empty head. Samuel felt sharp crossbeams penetrate his brain, and screamed with agony- or tried at least, lacking a mouth and all.

 Seemingly satisfied with the replacement, the robot collapsed against the wall again, forcing Samuel to stare at his own mutilated form several feet away.

 How long would it keep him alive?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Several hours passed, every moment of them agonizing. Samuel’s soul, trapped with his disembodied head, begged- to Bonnie or a higher power, he wasn’t quite sure- to put an end to his suffering.

 It did eventually.

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 Harry sat on his porch in a rocking chair, slowly swinging back and forth as he sipped a cup of tea. This was how he’d spent all his mornings since he retired- here in his house on the outskirts of town, watching the sun rise.

 It had been better when his love Margaret was still around though. She’d passed on a decade ago, leaving Harry all alone. His family visited, of course, but his house was empty most of the time.

 Samuel was a blessing. One he felt guilty for having- Samuel had a life of his own to lead, after all. Still, Harry had felt more alive in the week Sammy had been here than he had for years.

 He frowned, and checked his watch. 6:57 AM. Samuel had promised he’d be back no later than 6:45. Was the traffic in town that bad?

 “Oh, well.” Harry chuckled. “I’m old, I’ve got nothing better to do but wait.” He gazed out the road, hoping to see Sammy’s car driving towards him any second.

 He waited for quite a while.

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Red Room

Summary: Meeting Yelena in the red room is the best and worse thing that’s ever happened to you. Warning: romantic Yelena x Fem!reader pairing and depictions of violence.

Those first weeks in the red room pass in a blur. You have one room. Just you. Meals are delivered like clockwork; no one speaks to you. Your only company being the television set that plays the same clips; morning, noon and night.

Until one day the lights flip on brightly above you and a woman enters. You squint up at her, “hello?”

“Hello.” She replies, “are you ready to get out of here?”

“Where will I go?” You wonder.

“Wherever I tell you.”

That is your first encounter with Madame B. When you were younger you thought her something of a savior. You know better now. Still when she calls for you, there’s no choice but to go.

You make your way down the long hall, florescent lights humming above you. Finally reaching the room you’ve been assigned; you grasp the door knob. Feeling the weight of the cool metal against your palm, with a steadying breath you turn it.

Inside is only Madame B and a girl. One you’ve only seen in passing, one of Dreykov’s favorites.

“Y/N, meet Yelena. She will be your partner from now on.” Madame B leads the introduction.

“Did something happened to Oksana?” Your brows pull together, voice small. Afraid to cross an unspoken boundary. She’s always been your partner.

“Oksana is no longer your concern.” The woman bites out. “Shake hands and prepare for your lesson.”

You nod, biting your tongue.

Lesson…

Sparring.

Dancing.

Captive simulations.

What will it be this time?

“Oksana is ok.” Yelena tells you, once the trainer is out of earshot.

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand out to shake without another word.

“Is that why they kept you locked up so long? You don’t play well with others?” The blonde takes your hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I don’t play at all.” You inform her. Pleasing these people is your ticket out of here, and you will get out.

“Everybody plays, whether you want to or not.” Yelena tells you, letting your fingers slip from hers. “Just don’t get in my way.”

——————————————————————-

You don’t get in each other’s way. Somehow having Yelena as a combat partner is a lot less annoying than you anticipated.

Oksana is a better friend, but you aren’t here to make friends. You’re here to kill. Topple regimes from the inside out, Yelena helps you do that.

Your training with Yelena is different. Chipping away parts of you until you fit together seamlessly. From trust falls to synchronized attack plans, you name it you do it. Sometimes until you bleed.

One of your trainers, Ivan, has taken a liking to blind folded direction. Outside of captive simulations it is your least favorite team building activity.

You remind yourself to focus and breathe. In some ways guiding is worse than being guided. “Veer slightly to your right.”

Yelena lifts one bare foot, holding it airborne, allowing you to assess the placement of her next step. “Here?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, as she clears the bit of shattered glass. “That’s perfect.”

———————————————————————

Your first real assignment comes on Monday, June second.

“Come in, Miss American Pie. I have eyes on the target.” Yelena informs you through the ear piece.

“That’s still not my name, over. Stay high, I’m going down.” You reply, deploying your rope and riding it to the ground.

“Five ticks northwest and the package is yours.”

“Copy.” You follow her instruction, ducking away as a bullet shatters the window beside you. “Easy.” You chastise, in a hushed whisper.

“Sorry,” she apologizes half heartedly. The kill was necessary and she had a clean shot.

You spot your target, ready to turn onto the main street from the alleyway. You wrestle him to the ground, he puts up a good fight. Not good enough.

You wipe the blood from your hands before removing the usb drive from his breast coat pocket. “Just admit it,” you taunt, turning to the building Yelena is scoping from, “you’re proud of me.”

“Y/N!” Her tone is not playful at all.

What’s wrong? Before you get a chance to ask the man you’d assumed dead has his knife buried in your thigh.

You crumple to the ground as he prepares to strike again. In the time it takes to unholster your weapon a silent bullet reaches his temple from the sky.

You squint up at Yelena, watching her ride her teether down to the ground beside you. “Thanks.” You pant, inspecting the damage.

“That was sloppy,” she frowns, searching her pack for the midkit, then tearing open a package of gauze. “You always check the body, confirm the kill.”

“I know, I was stupid.” You gasp, feeling Yelena apply an obscene amount of pressure to your wound.

“We need to move to the extraction point, they can deal with you in medical.” Yelena rises, tossing your arm over her shoulder for support.

“It won’t happen again.” You promise, leaning heavily against her side.

“You’re right, it won’t. I have no idea what happens to me if you die.” She grumbles, somewhat bitterly.

———————————————————————

Interactions with Yelena are sparse after that. She doesn’t trust you. Only showing up for your lessons and leaving the moment they’re finished. You understand why she’s angry, you would be too.

According to your weekly rotation, today should be live target practice, however you are directed to a different room.

Once inside your eyes find the chair. You hate that chair. You hate this room. Nothing good ever happens here.

Slowly you move toward Yelena at the far wall.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back in combat lessons.” Ivan says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Why is that?”

You bite anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I said why is that?!”

You notice Yelena flinch from the corner of your eye. “It’s my fault,” you hold up a hand. “I took a hit on our last mission and my partner was being mindful of my injuries.”

“Oh I see.” He smirks, condescendingly. “You don’t want to hurt each other.”

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.” Yelena points out. The red room drilled that into you.

“That is true.” His eyes dart between you. “But we can’t have you afraid of sparring together. Now can we?”

Your jaw ticks, awaiting the consequence.

“When’s the last time you girls ran a captive simulation?”

“Two weeks ago.” Yelena presents her left index finger to him for inspection. The nail just beginning to grow back.

Ivan hums, “When’s the last time you ran a captive simulation on each other?”

Your heart drops, all the blood running out of your face. Not for months.

“Hmm,” he wets his lips. “Who gets to play the captor first?”

Neither one of you volunteer.

“Belova,” he purrs. “Come choose your tools while Y/L/N straps herself into the chair.”

You don’t hesitate, it’ll be worse if you do. Tuning out his incessant chatter you find your seat. The metal chair sends a chill up your spine. Bending at the waist, you strap each ankle into a leather restraint, then your non dominant hand. Free hand waiting, curled around the arm rest.

Yelena kneels before you, her selections resting at your feet as she closes the final strap around your wrist. Your breath quickens.

“Fifteen minutes on the clock then you’ll switch.” Your spectator announces. “Make them count or we’ll start over.”

On autopilot Yelena reaches for the scalpel.

You don’t mean to scream…but eventually you do. You always do.

———————————————————————

Yelena knows your weaknesses and regularly exploits them to leave you face up on the floor during hand to hand combat sessions.

You used to resent her for it, but it made you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been or hoped to be. The day you finally best her the room is filled with hushed whispers. Now you are ready.

You learn to move in harmony. The trainers ease up a bit and the other girls line up to watch you like an exhibit. You are two halves of a more perfect whole.

“Madame B, can I ask you something?” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.” The older woman replies. “What is it?”

“Why was my training so different with Oksana?”

She leans in. “You were not brought here to be a partner to Oksana. She was standing in until we could be sure you were ready for a partner. Nothing more.”

“Was I brought here to be Yelena’s partner?” The question burns at the back of your throat.

“I understand the desire to seek meaning in these things. You hope to find your place in the world.”

You nod.

“But you have no place in the world,” the words cut like a knife. “What you do have is an opportunity to prove that you are not a waste of space, time, or resources. Come, let’s sit for debriefing.”

You wait in silence for Yelena to arrive, finally she does. Taking the seat beside you in the meeting room.

“In two days you will undergo the graduation ceremony, after which you are granted up to three days recovery time before you will be deployed to Moscow.” Madame B reviews the information, handing you each a folder of details.

“Enclosed you will find your identification cards and aliases. I suggest you take this time to familiarize yourselves. Tomorrow we will begin shooting photographs for the past two years of your lives. Report with several changes of clothing. Congratulations on this assignmet. It is a great honor.” Madame B dismisses you.

You open the file. ‘Katherine and Irena Reiner.’

“We’re sisters?” Yelena guesses.

Worse. “We’re married.”

“Even better.” She says under her breath, rising from the chair.

———————————————————————

Life in Moscow is different. Good. The neighbors are easy enough to convince. You play your parts to perfection.

The company you work for being the main focus. They have access to some sort of programming that Dreykov is desperate to get his hands on. You know better than to ask why.

Most mornings you get ready together, discussing the events of the previous day to prepare for the next.

“How come you only speak English?” Yelena wonders, turning off the steady spray of water from her shower and reaching out to grab a towel.

“I have a theory,” you reply, spitting excess toothpaste into the sink. “I think keeping me dependent on translation had more pros than cons.”

“They taught me.” She says, stepping onto the bath mat. “But I guess that’s different.”

You were brought in much older a majority of the other girls.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, seeing each other as if for the first time.

“I could teach you.” She offers, breaking the connection as she turns away.

“Yeah?” You pass the brush through your hair.

Yelena shrugs, “I have nothing better to do.”

“Just don’t teach me the wrong words to make me look stupid.” You arch a brow.

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

Hours turn into days. Days into weeks and suddenly you stand on a blurred line. How much is she pretending? How much are you?

The two of you rest on opposite ends of the couch. Enjoying another round of prime time television.

“Yesterday I was talking to that girl in accounting.” Yelena pulls your attention from the picture.

“The blonde one?” You ask, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She attempts to catch it in her mouth. Having had more than a few drinks her coordination is lacking.

You smirk, when it falls into her lap.

“No Maggie.” She corrects you, finding the wayward piece and biting into it.

“Mmm.” You hum.

“Mmm? What do you mean, ‘mmm?’” Yelena’s brows pull together.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I was just acknowledging what you said.”

“You didn’t sound very happy about it. Did she do something to you?” Yelena demands, straightening her posture.

“No, she didn’t do anything. Anyway tell me what happened.”

“She’s worked there for a long time. I think she knows more than she says she does.”

“So are you gonna talk to her again? See if she’ll open up?” Yelena has that effect on people.

“I am married.” She rolls her eyes, flipping her left ring finger in place of the middle.

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m crazy about you, know you. Ever since we met in high school. You didn’t like me at first but you came around.” Yelena elaborates.

“I don’t remember seeing all that in our cover story.” You cock your head to the side.

“That was a shit story, I’m rewriting it.” She waves a hand.

“Tell me more.” Tell me everything.

———————————————————————

“Did you get milk?” You shout, peeking into the nearest paper bag.

“Was it on the list?” Yelena hollers back, from the front door, kicking it shut. Her arms full of groceries.

“I don’t remember,” you say, unpacking the head of lettuce and eggs.

“You made the list.” She scoffs, setting the rest of the haul on the floor.

A knock pulls your attention away from the food.

“Who is it?” You wonder.

“It’s me, George. From next door.” Your neighbor answers.

Yelena rolls her eyes, waving you out of the kitchen. It’s your turn to make small talk.

You step carefully around the produce to the main entrance. “Hey George.” You smile, swinging open the door, “what’s up?”

“Katherine!” He greets you. “Could I borrow Irena for a minute?”

“Is that lawnmower giving you trouble again?” You guess, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s running great actually. There’s something else I’m curious about though.”

“I can send her over after dinner.” You attempt to dismiss him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” George moves his foot to prevent the door from closing, producing a pistol from his waistband.

“George!” Yelena waves, clearly oblivious.

“Irena,” he looks down at the gun, pointed at your chest, “we have much to discuss.”

“Clearly.” Yelena agrees, coming to join you on the threshold. “Are you going to tell me why you have my wife at gunpoint?”

“We should take this inside.”

“I’m good here.”

He presses the barrel against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. “You sure about that?”

“On second thought, I could go for a drink. Do you like scotch?” Yelena takes a step back, leaving room for him to enter the house.

“Who sent you?” George demands, guiding you into the kitchen.

“We also have brandy.” She says, expression unreadable.

“Who are you working for?” He asks a second time, adjusting his grip on the gun. “First one goes in her leg.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yelena drawls. “But I’m going to warn you, if you hurt her, you die.”

“You have three seconds to give me a better answer,” the nuzzle of the gun sits flush against you upper thigh. “One, two-“

Yelena lunges, the gun firing into the floor when he’s knocked off balance.

George tosses her off as if she weighs nothing. You rush him, knocking the fire arm to the other side of the room. Your arms locked around his neck, flush to his back. He rams you back first into the china cabinet.

You fall away with a grunt.

“Now,” the man rights himself. Wiping away the blood from his split bottom lip with the back of his hand. “We’re going to have fun.”

Taking a fist full of your hair he begins pulling you toward the center of the room. You grab for a large shard of glass, slicing it over the back of this knee. He releases you, doubling over.

“I warned you.” Yelena snarls, stabbing her knife into his belly, making a straight line up to his sternum. “You thought you could use her to break me? They used to make me torture her! They used to make me-“ she breaks off, withdrawing her knife. Only to ram it in again and again.

George, if that was his real name, is long dead. A crimson puddle blooming on the floor. It doesn’t stop Yelena, hot, angry tears rolling past her cheeks.

“Yelena.” You say softly.

“They used to make me do it.” She repeats, the weight of the words crushing down on her.

Your arms envelope her from behind.

“No.” She sobs when she feels you there, holding exactly where it hurts.

“It’s ok.” You whisper against her ear.

The blood stained blade clatters to the ground. Her breathing ragged as both her hands find yours, squeezing tightly. Don’t let go.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She cries, frantically shaking her head.

“I did it too.” As if she needs reminding. “They made me do it too.”

She allows you to stay curled around her, desperately trying to absorb some of that pain.

———————————————————————

Yelena’s drug of choice is alcohol, the spirits burn their way into her blood stream. Erasing all that she’s done.

“You want a glass?” She offers, setting the bottle of clear liquor down on the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You shake your head, hair still damp from the shower.

“Don’t be a hero,” she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat. The water had washed away any trace of George.

“Fine,” you take a long swig from the bottle in question.

“You’ll thank me later.” She tosses back a shot, sliding the strap of your pajama top down to assess the damage to your left shoulder. “It’s deep, going to need stitches. This is why we don’t go through china cabinets.” Yelena chastises, moving for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.” You peek at her. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” she hums, returning to her spot. Flipping open the white box and removing what she needs to stitch you up.

First she hits you with the antiseptic “сука!” Bitch.

“See,” you can hear the smile in her voice, “you are learning.”

You let out a pained laugh, “I guess I am. We need to call someone to clean this up.”

“Here,” she hands you her phone, blowing gently over you wound. “You take care of that, I take care of you.”

Your heart clenches at her words. But Yelena is your partner. That is all.

“Belova, do you have a status update?” A familiar voice answers after the first ring.

“Yeah, we need a cleanup.” You say matter of factly.

“Agent Y/L/N.” He greets you. “How many?”

“One.”

“For now,” The man remarks.

“You didn’t tell us we weren’t alone in this pursuit.” You purse your lips.

“There’s a reason we sent the best. I’ll put in for a clean up crew in the morning.”

“Let them know the body is in the bathtub.”

The goes dead.

The conversation distracts you well enough from the dull ache of the needle poking and pulling at your shoulder.

Carefully Yelena bandages the abused skin. Her finger tips running along the back of your arm.

“Thank you.” You whisper, relaxing into her touch.

Her lips ghost over your skin. “You’re welcome.”

Oh.

Slowly you turn, as if not to startle her. Yelena’s eyes find yours.

You move closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you,” you repeat.

She nods, still unsure.

“Of all the people I could’ve been stuck here with…I’m glad it was you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She pulls your hand away gently.

“You’re right. I don’t have to say anything.“ You murmur, “But I want to… and it would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

“We can’t.” She knows it. You know it. “It will get in the way. They’ll kill us.”

“No.” You chuckle bitterly. “They’ll make us kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Yelena insists.

“You won’t have a choice.” You point out. “Didn’t you hear about that stuff they started pumping into people?”

“Mind control.” Yelena replies in Russian.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe we get out.”

“Maybe,” you smile sadly, “maybe we find each other.” In another life.

———————————————————————

Three days later Yelena comes home late. During your day off you were tasked with the more mundane tasks of running a household, but you suppose there are worse things. She finds you in the laundry room, drink already in hand. Her mouth set in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You drop the piece of clothing back into the basket.

“I have it.” Yelena confesses.

You press your lips together, you knew this was coming. That information is the only reason you are here. “Did you contact them?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“You say that like I have a choice.” She stares down at her drink.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant.” Yelena knows you, better than anyone. The red room saw to that. “Do you want to stay one more night?”

“Do you?” You wonder.

“When I was a little girl…I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

“In the morning,” you offer. Any longer and the risk will be too great. “We’ll go in the morning.”

She nods, taking in the room around her. “I wanted it to be real.”

“It was.” You choke down the lump in your throat.

———————————————————————

Your return to the red room is swift. No pat on the back or celebration to be had. Just two pawns, returning to their places on the board.

You’re separated from Yelena. Because your loyalties are to each other and that poses a threat. But what did they expect? They made you this way.

You are alone. Perhaps the most alone you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’d just forgotten that you could feel things. You remember now and wish you didn’t.

Like it or not she changed you. Knowing her had changed you, for better or for worse. After Yelena you were never the same.

Word of Oksana’s escape only fuels the need to chemically alter the minds of all agents. Beginning in order of importance.

Finding Yelena seated on the bench outside the physician’s office steals the breath from your lungs. To see her now is blatantly cruel and calculated.

Still you sit in the empty space beside her.

“Do you know where your orders are?” She asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Budapest. You?”

“Back to Moscow.” Yelena informs you.

You swallow hard, your pinkies skating past each other.

“Agent Y/L/N,” the doctor opens his door. You watch as another widow exits, she doesn’t look any different. Maybe the mind control drugs aren’t affective.

You steal one last glance at Yelena. Her eyes are desperate, ‘don’t go.’ Both of you knowing you can’t stay.

“Enjoy Moscow.” You whisper, moving reluctantly to your feet.

She tears her gaze away, unable to watch you leave. “I hear Budapest is beautiful.”

You hope so.

Wanna know what happens next? Check out chapter one of Miss American Pie! 💜

Yelena Belova Taglist: @captainwonderwidow

[quillsareswords]

1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

[sparklysung]

✨ADRENALINE RUSH – n.j.m.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – na jaemin x female!reader

genre – smut, slight angst | non-idol!au, school!au

warnings – good boy!virgin!jaemin, bad girl!experienced!reader, corruption kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), breeding kink, slight exhibitionism (library), creampie, marking, overstimulation

word count – 3.416 words

note – i got too much into it lol. it turned out so long, i’m sorry for that. i do hope you like it, i’ve been working on it for a few days now and it’s been rough. i’m hoping there aren’t too many errors, and if there are i apologize in advance, i know they are annoying. either way enjoy!

summary – as the local bad girl, your reputation was rather infamous. jaemin knew this and so he tried his best to stay away from you. but after getting paired up for a genetics project, he didn’t stand a chance against your desire to ruin his innocence.

taglist – @junguwuuu , @prvncejxon​, @carelessshootanonymous

part i ; part ii

you were mindlessly playing with your pen, doodling on the margins of your notebook, ignoring completely what your genetics professor was explaining on the board in the front of the classroom. 

that’s how class usually was for you; not paying attention to anything, just messing around with your highlighters, drawing more doodles to add to your collection or observing your classmates –not in a creepy way, though–. your professor wasn’t that clueless for you to nap until the end of the class, so you took advantage of whatever could keep you awake. 

when your hand started to cramp due to the constant movement, you started looking around the room with a bored expression, letting your thoughts go to anything and everything that seemed the tiniest bit interesting. that was until he caught your eye.

na jaemin. perfect na jaemin. excellent grades, the teacher’s pet, always so polite to everyone. the type of guy every parent would want their daughter to date and the perfect role model.

and you were the opposite. you never really cared about school; getting high scores was useless from your point of view, so you never took it seriously. you were used to sneaking out of your house to attend parties and going home drunk with a different guy each weekend –cause life is short and why not–. your lifestyle earned you a ‘bad girl’ reputation, as well as the protagonism of multiple not-so-nice rumours.

you two were so different from one another, belonged to completely different worlds.

that’s why you were so intrigued by him.

it’s not like this was the first time you notice him, you can’t just not notice him. he was gorgeous, to say the least; perfect face, flawless skin, sparkly round eyes adorned with long eyelashes, pink plush lips, fluffy hair with soft dark locks that fell beautifully on his forehead, framing the soft expression on his face. oh yeah, how could you forget that long neck of his, with a prominent adam’s apple that made your mouth water with the thought of marking it with purplish bites. you’ve wanted to ruin him since the first day you laid eyes on him, make him break under your touch and need you as much as he needs oxygen to breathe.

“so, before the class comes to an end, i’m going to assign you in pairs for the project i was talking to you about a few minutes ago.” groans of annoyance were heard from all around the room, finally making you pay attention.

as the professor began mentioning the pairs, your attention drifted once again towards jaemin. he looked genuinely interested in what was being said; eyebrows furrowed in concentration while waiting for his name to be called.

“kim sohee and lee donghyuck,” your eyes wandered down toward his broad shoulders, strong arms and slender fingers. your teeth nibbled with your bottom lip, nails sinking against the palm of your hand as you felt your panties grow damp by the sole idea of him fingering you. 

“na jaemin and y/l y/n,” your head snapped first in the direction of your professor, and then to his, who looked rather nervous sitting down a few desks in front of you, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. indeed, jaemin was nervous, so nervous that he felt like he was about to pass out. he could feel the looks full of pity his friends were throwing at him and it was making him feel even worse. he wasn’t too pleased either with the shot of excitement and anticipation he felt spreading across his body. you looked down at your hands, hair slightly covering your face as you tried to hide your devilish smirk.

you didn’t bother to listen to the rest of the pairs, being already too immersed in thoughts about every possible scenario that could take place while you two worked together on the project.

~.~.~.~

as soon as class ended, you threw your bag over your shoulder, making your way towards jaemin’s table and earning a couple of looks of disapproval from his friends. not letting that affect you, you approached him with a sweet smile plastered on your face. “hey,” his face shot up to look at you, hands still working on getting all his belongings inside his bag. straightening his back, he tried to look unaffected by your presence. he nodded his head shortly as a greeting and decided to get this over with as fast as he could.

“let’s work on the project at the library, right after class,” jaemin said, trying to sound confident, but you could see right through him; he was nervous. he figured that a place full of people was less risky rather than either of your houses, where you’d be alone and the possibility of something happening was a lot higher. you shrugged your shoulders, not really minding the location, “see you later, pretty boy.” you winked at him before making your way out of the room, leaving a flustered jaemin behind.

you were bad news, your name only coming up in conversations about breaking the rules, hookups during parties with lots of alcohol involved and other rumours. he knew he wasn’t supposed to feel like this, all about you screamed ‘danger, beware’. and his friends had warned him, always making sure to constantly remind him not to get closer than needed or he would be doomed. but he couldn’t stop the fast beating of his heart nor the butterflies that erupted in his stomach. 

jaemin was certain this wasn’t going to end well, at least not for him.

and he was right.

~.~.~.~

a few hours later, jaemin and you were sat side by side on a slightly secluded table. he decided against sitting close to the entrance, as the internet connexion wasn’t so good and you were required to do internet research. he felt on edge every time your thigh brushed lightly against his, though he wasn’t sure if you knew what you were doing or if you were completely oblivious to the small touches.

but you sure weren’t oblivious of the way his body reacted with each of them, fingers gripping tightly the edges of the book he had opened in front of him. you on the other hand pretended to not notice, intently reading the thesis you had found in google scholars about multifactorial and complex diseases.

at some point, you figured it was time to make your move and shoot your shot. it seemed like he liked your proximity and lingering touches, as he had never –in all the time you’ve spent in the library– made an attempt to pull away or make you stop. also, by the look of the prominent tent forming inside his school pants, he appeared to actually be really fond of it. smiling to yourself, you continued as if nothing happened.

jaemin was internally panicking, he was aware that eventually you were going to notice his little –not so little– problem. he wanted to either bury himself underground or lock himself inside his room and wait until he passed away from inanition, starvation or dehydration, whatever happened first. he tried thinking about disgusting things to make it go away, like strawberries or the time when he was dared to lick his friend donghyuck’s sweaty foot, but nothing seemed to work.

you could make out the outline of his hard dick from the inside of his pants, biting your lips to contain the smirk making its way to your face. your hand snaked up his thigh until it was close to where he most needed you, making him shudder and squirm nervously under your touch. “w-what are you doing?”, he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat. this was the first time a hand that wasn’t his own was touching him. because, of course, he wasn’t that innocent. he had needs like every guy his age, hormones all over the place and making him painfully aware of the pretty girl sitting so close to him. your scent intoxicating and addictive, almost making him lean closer.

you didn’t even care to respond, too fascinated by the feeling of his clothed member against your hand, hot and heavy. “s-stop, this isn’t right, w-we can’t do this here.” the panic present on his voice made a chuckle fall from your lips, making jaemin shrink in his seat. 

“someone’s gonna hear us, w-we’ll get caught.” he didn’t know what else to tell you to make you stop, how could he convince you to stop when he didn’t want you to? you ignored his words and kept going, the idea of getting caught causing wetness to gather inside your panties. “then you’ll have to keep quiet,” the moan that slipped from his lips made you rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension.

you freed his member from the confines of his pants and briefs, pulling them down just enough for you to have easy access to it, but not so much to make it too obvious. he was big; thick enough to stretch you out nicely. you hummed in approval, spitting in the palm of your hand, going to grab ahold of his cock and slowly start to pump him. jaemin threw his head back, eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed shut and mouth agape in a silent moan. “does it feel good baby?” he hummed quietly, not trusting his voice. he leaned his body closer to yours, chest against your side while his head rested on your shoulder. “so needy”, you mumbled mockingly, to which his hips bucked slightly.

jaemin felt in cloud 9 having your soft hand wrapped tightly around his sensitive dick. he knew all of this was wrong, but it felt so good. he opened his eyes enough to be able to see you work on his shaft. your thumb flicked against his slit as it spread the leaking precum from the tip to the base. he was trying his best to avoid letting out any sound, afraid of drawing unwanted attention.

you could feel he was getting close by the stuttering of his hips, desperately thrusting back against your fist. and, as much as you wanted to see his face while cumming, you weren’t going to let him just yet. you needed him and you needed him now, your slick arousal starting to run down your inner thighs. you’ve had enough.

your hand stopped its ministrations, making him whine softly at the loss of friction. moving to straddle his thighs, you threw your leg over his until you were comfortably sitting on his lap, skirt riding up from your new position. your thin arms snaked around his neck, one going to tangle in his hair and the other to caress his jaw. his hands positioned themselves instantly in your hips, holding onto you for dear life. his eyes nervously wandered over your shoulder, making sure nobody was paying attention to what you both were doing.

you pulled his chin to get him to look at you, eyes hooded and filled with lust. you looked so hot, face flushed a pretty tone of red, eyes sparkling with mischief. he knew he would be jacking off to the thought of you for the rest of the year, if not for the rest of his life.

his thoughts were interrupted, heavy lids almost closing once again and mind going blank, as he felt you roll your hips against his hard cock, which was standing tall in between your bodies. biting your lip, you leaned in to kiss his, feeling for the first time his plump, soft pink lips against yours. a moan escaped your mouth at the sweet taste of his tongue, fighting against your desperately as if he would never be able to savour you again.

rising from his lap slightly, you used one of your hands to position the tip of his cock against your entrance and the other to push your panties aside. a soft groan left jaemin’s lips as he felt the wetness of your core. as you were about to lower yourself on him, he stopped you, fingers digging against your sides. “i-i have never done anything like this with anyone.” if you were being honest, you found his nervous stutter quite endearing. “then let me ruin you.” that was all it took for him to give in to you.

you pumped him a few more times, making sure to completely coat his shaft with both of your arousals. as you lowered yourself on him, you pulled him in for a heated kiss, swallowing his sounds of pleasure. when you had finally engulfed the entirety of his cock, you began moving your hips in circular motions, waiting for the both of you to get used to the feeling. the friction made him pull you closer, face buried in the crook of your neck while small whimpers left his lips, going straight to your core. your walls clenched around him tightly, drawing a loud groan from his chest, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you kept kissing him, swallowing his groans and moans. he felt so good filling you up with his hard cock, he fit perfectly inside of you, as if he was made just for you; like a puzzle piece. “you feel so good, baby, stretching me out, so so good,” you praised him sweetly, hand running through his soft locks.

jaemin seemed to be unable to get enough of you. he didn’t want this to end, he wanted to stay with you –preferably inside of you–, be able to feel you so close and know he is the one who is making you feel so good.

“wait, fuck,” he gasped trying to catch his breath, “wait, i’m g-gonna cum if you keep going.” it hadn’t been long, but he was already worked up since you started touching him earlier. “is that so? remember we’re not using a condom, baby. if you cum inside me i could get pregnant.” you hummed, trying to get a reaction to your words out of him. and you got it as a higher pitched moan fell from his lips, feeling his grip on your waist tighten.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you, huh?” you quirked an eyebrow, smirking to yourself when you felt him twitch inside of you. “yes”, he whimpered, vision blurred, the pleasure overpowering the fear of being caught. he found himself enjoying the thrill more than he should, almost embarrassed with how easily you could make him lose all his self-control. he knew you were playing with his mind, pushing him just enough to make him risk everything; his reputation, his image. exactly how you managed to get him to lose his innocence.

“what a filthy little boy, who would have guessed perfect student na jaemin was so much of a slut”, you whispered in his ear while raking your nails down his chest. jaemin could only buck his hips to meet yours, desperate to feel more, thighs burning from the effort. he was getting restless, unable to keep quiet as moans rolled off of his tongue with every roll of your hips. your mouth attached itself to his neck, biting harshly to leave pretty red marks that were soon to become purple. the sound of pages turning and typing on the library’s computers reminding you of where you were.

“please, i’m so close,” he didn’t even know what he was pleading for anymore, the only thing he knew was that he needed you, all of you, in every way possible; in every way you were willing to let him have you. “wanna cum inside my tight little pussy, baby? wanna fill me up with your hot cum and put your baby inside of me?” with glassy eyes and hot tears threatening to fall down his crimson cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure which was almost making him dizzy, he let out a string of ‘yes, yes, yes’. his hands clutched your hips to bring you closer, digging his nails on the flesh and leaving crescent moon shaped marks. a moan slipped from your lips, only increasing his desperation.

you picked up your pace, your naked thighs slapping lightly against his clothed ones. the both of you could hear the wet mewls your cunt made every time you lowered yourself on him until he was balls deep inside of you. his hips raised to meet yours, hitting your most sensitive spot with the tip of his cock, as he tried to match your fast rhythm.

jaemin didn’t know what to do with himself. he knew he had to be quiet or else someone was going to realize what was going on, but he physically couldn’t hold the sounds in. in fact, he could almost taste the faint taste of copper from biting too harshly on the flesh of his lips. on the other hand, you didn’t seem to have as much trouble to keep your cool, as only a couple of sighs of pleasure left your lips from time to time. little did jaemin know you were struggling to keep your mouth shut. every thrust of his hips causing him to hit deeper, the fucked out look in his face motivating you to go faster.

though you weren’t as close to cumming as he was, you knew this was his first time and it seemed like he was about to combust. it wouldn’t be so nice of you to make him wait longer, would it? “cum for me baby boy,” and that’s all it took for jaemin to reach his high, hips stuttering and hands trembling. feeling his seed paint your velvet walls, your hand went down your body to find your clit, starting to rub circles against your sensitive bud. a wave of pleasure shot through your body and made your hips jerk roughly against him. the sob jaemin let out went straight to your core making your climax approach faster than you would have thought.

taking advantage of the slippery mess he had made of the both of you, you slid up and down on him faster and with more strength. jaemin, seeing as you weren’t going to stop anytime soon, started growing impatient. “t-to much, p–ah, please, it’s too much”, but you didn’t stop, gripping his strong arms and grinding harder against him. “no, no, please, it hurts” he cried out desperately, begging you to stop bouncing on his oversensitive cock. you shook your head and pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. you smacked your mouths together, diving in for another sloppy kiss that had jaemin weak on the knees and a moaning mess.

when you tore away from him, jaemin brought his fist to his face and bit it hard, trying equally as hard to control himself. his second orgasm of the day was coming closer and oh was it going to be strong. when it finally happened, his eyes rolled to the back, head dropping back. that was the last straw as you felt yourself coming, walls tightening and clenching around him to milk him dry, the movements of your hand becoming sloppy. he felt light-headed, slightly blacking out for a few seconds until he managed to recover his consciousness.

using his shoulders to help yourself off of him, you let him slip out of you. jaemin winced from the oversensitivity, hands quickly tucking himself inside his pants. as you fixed your ruined panties and messy hair, properly tidying up your clothes, you once again threw your bag over your shoulder. he eyed you with a disoriented look in his face, confused as to what you were doing.

he saw you turn around on your heels before walking out of the library, only your panties preventing his cum from running down your thighs. you left him there, without a single word, not even spared him a glance. you walked away from him as if you didn’t just fuck the life out of him, as if he hadn’t just gifted you his virginity, or more like as if you hadn’t just stolen it. as if all the kisses you shared and loving pet names you used on him meant nothing.

and the worst part of it all was the pang of hurt jaemin felt in his heart when realization fell down on him like a bucket of cold water.

to you, that moment meant nothing. because to you, he didn’t mean anything.

–lia:)

[pepperonijem]

When He Sees Me || Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

Pairing:  Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: um peter might be a little ooc and that’s because i’m writing about my unfortunate crush but i basically just changed his name to peter parker any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental <3 

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it? Catching feelings for your best friend is never easy.

A/N: This fic is sponsored in part by @bitchassbucky, @spiderrpcrker, @shurisneakers, @midnightsunfae, and @blackberrybucky who instead of shutting down my feelings, hyped me up to turn my crush and some of the things that we’ve done into a fic <3 this goes out to anyone who has ever started crushing on their best friend.

Oh God, please don’t walk this way, please don’t wa-

“Oh, hey Peter!” The crack in your voice betrayed your attempt at a casual greeting, despite your efforts to disguise it with a cough. “How’s it-- how’s it hanging?”

“You good?” Peter smiled at you but his eyebrow quirked upwards in concern. “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight?” His concern faded into a wide grin as you nodded in response. Peter gave you a quick goodbye before walking away towards his next class.

As soon as you saw him turn into the classroom, you turned to face your closed locker, letting out a groan before setting your forehead against it. Peter had asked if you were good, and although you nodded, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to give you away. You were very much not good.

A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned to see your friend MJ. “What did Peter do this time?” MJ asked. For the last month, every interaction with Peter -- there have been a lot -- ended this way: a groan of defeat and a few welted lines on your forehead from holding your head against your locker. You turned to give MJ a dirty look, annoyed by the amused smirk on her face.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed, finally lifting your head up to talk to her. You opened your locker as you talked, not wanting to make eye contact with MJ as you confessed your feelings. “He just… smiled… and everything went downhill from there.” You rolled your eyes as MJ laughed. “It’s getting worse, I have no idea how I’m going to get through tonight.”

MJ laid a hand on your shoulder. “Well we’ll all be there,” she offered. “And if it makes you feel better, no one’s even noticed. Just act normal and you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that was the easiest thing to do. But you couldn’t act normal anymore, not with Peter. Not when normal means resting your head against his shoulder every time he makes you laugh. Not when normal means borrowing his clothes when his aunt May tells you to stay the night every time a study session runs too long. Not when normal means wearing the extra sweater he keeps for you because you always forget yours.

Normal was when you didn’t feel butterflies everytime he looked at you, before your curious heart got the better of you and you began to wonder what it might be like to hold his hand. Now, things were just weird. At least for you. Nothing on the surface had changed, no one noticed how your heart rate picked up every time Peter touched you, or how you suddenly felt hot whenever he winked at you. But inside your heart was navigating uncharted territory in your friendship, trying to traipse along the thin line that separated how things have always been and how you suddenly wish things could be.

Pulling your textbook out of your locker, you shut the locker door a just a little bit more aggressively than necessary. MJ gave you a small hug before linking her arm through yours as you walked to your next class.

For the rest of the day, you found it impossible to focus on anything. Instead of taking down notes on George Orwell in English, you found yourself absentmindedly doodling hearts. Everything just reminded you of Peter and your own confusing feelings. Thankfully, you didn’t share any classes with him today, leaving you enough solitude to think about just why you were so frustrated with yourself.

Logically, you knew there was nothing wrong with having a crush on someone. You’ve had plenty of crushes before, a few of which reflected a temporary lapse in judgement on your part. You remember telling Peter about each of them, gushing about the most basic acts of human decency as he rolled his eyes and told you that you deserve someone better, but nevertheless helping you pick up the pieces every time someone broke your heart. That, you realized, was what scared you the most.

If you were to date, and then break up… well who would be there with kind words and your favorite boba when everything fell apart? The thought of losing your best friend over emotions, feelings, left far too much to chance. Was the idea of holding his hand, of hearing him call you his enough to make you risk the friendship that has always been enough for you? It should be enough for you, you reminded yourself. There was too much on the line and not enough guarantee for you to risk it.

With that determination in mind, you steeled yourself for the rest of the day, determined to put your feelings to rest and go back to normal.

Unfortunately, that plan quickly fell through.

You got to the restaurant a half hour late with only a really good nap to blame. You felt bad that your friends were waiting for you, but when you got there, you found an empty spot next to Peter, where your usual order of ramen was waiting and against your will, the butterflies flew rampant. The noodle that hit Peter’s nose as he ate while waving you over made you laugh as you sat down beside him.

“I got you your usual,” Peter explained in between bites. You smiled and thanked him before digging in. Peter had done this for you many times, and you willed your body to fight against the flutter of your heart.

Thankfully, the rest of your dinner was going well, and everyone had plenty of stories to tell. MJ had begun doing more portraits of people in distress and revealed her latest piece -- a portrait of Peter slurping up a noodle only to get a rogue drop of soup in his eye. Ned and Betty were off again, but of course they tried to keep it civil (they were on again by the end of the night) so no one would have to pick sides. Flash teased Peter about the B that he made on his literature exam yesterday over poetry and Peter’s face turned beet red.

“Hey,” Peter began, attempting to defend himself. “I totally could’ve made a perfect score. I was just distracted.” He shrunk down in his seat a little bit, and the rest of you laughed teasingly.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Flash continued. “You’ve been drawing little hearts all over your notes, dude, it’s unsettling.” He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food, swirling his fork around the bowl trying to grab as much noodle as possible.

Across the table, you and MJ made eye contact, a look of surprise between the both of you. You tried to signal her to say something before a weird silence fell on the table, but she was not reading your cues. Thankfully, Peter spoke again.

“H-hearts?” He repeated. “Why would I be drawing hearts on my notes?” Although he tried to play it off, the rise in pitch gave him away. He scrunched his face in exaggeration.

“Actually,” Betty began. “Now that I think about it, you were doing that in Spanish class too.” You glanced over at Peter who looked at you with panic in his eyes. You took a long sip of water, suddenly feeling a layer of sweat form at the back of your neck. “Wonder what that’s about.” She shrugged and turned to Ned asking if he wanted to split a slice of cheesecake with her.

Before Peter had a chance to try to defend himself once again, the waitress appeared. “Are you all ready for the check?” she asked.

“Yeah, but we’re splitting the check,” Flash replied. Betty rolled her eyes in response. “What? Just because I’m rich does not mean I have to share the wealth.”

The waitress nodded in response. As she was leaving Peter called her back. “Oh wait,” he called. “I’ll also be paying for this order,” he gestured to your bowl. She smiled at him and headed for the counter.

“Peter,” you smiled. “I have money, I can pay for myself.” Although Peter usually had to order for you, he didn’t usually pay for you, unless it was a special occasion.

“I know, I just wanted to be nice,” he responded, giving your shoulder a playful nudge. “Plus, you seem like you’ve had a rough week. Every time I see you, you seem to be lost in thought. What’s been on your mind?” The sentence came out casually, but the furrow in his brows revealed how concerned he actually has been. Peter was nothing if not observant, like he could sense things better than most people.

You let out a sigh, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to lie to Peter, but you also didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were thinking about him-- well, your feelings for him. Just when it seemed like he had backed you into a corner, however, the waitress had returned with the checks, and the question left unanswered.

After dinner, the six of you went to Flash’s house to watch a movie. He had a home theater and early access to new movies and he loved to remind everyone of that. Not that any of you minded, especially if it got you free popcorn and a movie out of it. Every week, a different person got to select the movie and today, unfortunately, was MJ’s turn.

You loved her, of course, but you absolutely detested her taste in movies. Mostly because she was a horror junkie, and you were absolutely not. Her last few turns however had been spent making sure you all had seen all of the Shrek movies. But today, she picked a horror film. Something about demons and the like. Peter and Betty cheered at her selection as Flash groaned. You settled into the couch in the back of the room and grabbed a blanket. Ned and Betty sat together on a smaller loveseat, and MJ sat on the floor in front of Flash’s seat, the perfect spot to be able to scare him with a single touch on his leg.

Peter sat down beside you, handing you a tub of popcorn and a soda. He pulled the blanket over his own lap as he sat criss-cross on the couch. You tried not to pay attention to how his leg was brushing against yours under the blanket, instead focusing on the screen as the room went dark.

The movie had just started, but you could already feel yourself tense up in expectation.The music was coming to a crescendo and you knew something was already going to happen. You didn’t realize just how tightly your fists had balled together in your lap till you jumped at the sound of Peter’s soft voice at the shell of your ear. “Are you okay?” He asked.

He tried to hold in a chuckle as you almost bounced the tub of popcorn off your lap. He grabbed it from you and set it to the side. “Look,” he pointed to the screen where the creature’s head had just rotated a full circle as it crawled up the wall in pursuit of the main character. “That thing kinda looks like the spider from that kid’s tv show, but not as creepy.” You let out a laugh, a little louder than you meant, and Ned turned to tell you to shut up.

The small joke was enough to dissipate the anxiety you felt towards the movie, but unfortunately only heightened your feelings about Peter. But he noticed how your fists unclenched and how your shoulders relaxed once you laughed, so he continued to tell you whispered jokes for the rest of the movie. Each time he noticed your body tensing, he tried his best to make you laugh, and god, how could you stop yourself from those butterflies anymore?

At the height of the movie, you found yourself with your hands over your ears, and eyes squeezed shut, unable to even look at the screen or hear a joke. When Peter realized a joke wouldn’t be enough, he slid closer to you and pulled you into his side and you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Before you had a chance to think about the spicy notes of his cologne or the softness of his skin, the sound of a high pitched scream in the movie caused you to jump with a gasp. In response, Peter wrapped his arms around you tight, with a gentle shush.

It was only after the music began to die down that you opened your eyes again, only to find Peter’s eyes fixed on the screen. Now that the worst was over, you no longer had an excuse to be in his embrace the way you were. You began to wiggle your way out of his arms, attracting his attention.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Peter I’m a big kid,” you smiled, teasing. “You don’t have to hold me like a baby.” Peter let out a soft laugh before relaxing his hold on you just a bit.

“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll just hold you like this then.” He began to shift so that your head was on his shoulder, and one of his arms looped under yours, intertwining your fingers. The smile on his face was calm as if this was something the two of you did all the time, but his racing heartbeat reminded you this was something new.

The two of you remained that way for the rest of the movie. By the time the soft music began to play in the credits, you could hear light snoring from everyone else in the room. However, you and Peter made absolutely no efforts to untangle yourselves from each other. It was as if you were worried that once the lights came back on, you would never find yourself like this again, and what a sad idea that was. Normal, would never be enough for you again, not when you know now how much better life could be like this.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the jump scares, or the sureness of his hand in yours, like it’s always belonged there, that gave you the courage to finally break the silence.

“Peter,” you breathed out, lifting your head from his shoulder, but not letting go of his hand.

He turned to you, with a look of concern, afraid of what you might say.

“Kiss me.” The words came out so softly and so quickly that you weren’t sure if you said it at all.

“Finally,” he whispered as his lips fell against yours, softly and slowly. He pulled away after what felt like hours and yet not nearly enough time. His hands reached up to cup your face. “I like you,” he admitted. “So much.”

Suddenly, you felt it. You felt exactly what it must feel like to fly, to let yourself go without worrying about gravity or anything else. The risks were still there, the numbers hadn’t changed, but you knew that no matter what happened next, just having the chance to fly would always be enough.

[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.”

[malum-forev]

Try Anything Once

BuckyBarnes x Reader

Bucky finds himself at the worse place, the doctor’s office. But maybe it isn’t as bad as he thought.

Word Count: 2.6k

There were many things that brought James Buchanan Barnes rage, but at the top of his list was his mechanical arm. It was bad enough that it was a constant reminder of who he was, who he was created to be, but now due to a technical failure, it was even more of an inconvenience.

“I already told you that it’s fine.” He muttered at Sam, trying to open and close his palm, with no avail.

“Yeah, and if I were blind, I would believe that. You need to get that thing fixed. Maybe it just needs some motor oil.” He said followed by a loud laugh, only making Bucky’s eyes roll. “I already reported it to the medical department, anyways.”

“What are doctors going to tell me about this thing, it’s not flesh. They don’t know anything about it.”

“Well, I mean, we do have the best doctors in the world. I think they know something about that contraption.” Sam replied, standing up from his position and traveling to the front of the airplane to see how long it would take them to get back to the compound.

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to calm the bubbling anger that was filling him up, almost to the point of explosion. It was supposed to be the best, why would it be giving him trouble. Subsiding his anger, he thought that maybe he would have to go to Wakanda to get it fixed. Maybe he would even have to stay there for some time, he could only dream of that. In the past 80 years, that was the only time he felt something close to peace. Forcing his eyes to open, he realized that the plane was descending. Looking out the window, he saw what he dreaded the most. A team of people in white bathrobes.

“Doctors.” Bucky huffed in annoyance.

As he made his way through the white corridors with fluorescent lighting, he could hear at least three pairs of feet shuffling behind him. He could almost sense they were too nervous to ask him any questions. He stopped at the end of the hallway and waited for three seconds before turning around to face them.

“Well? Are you going to open this stupid door, or do I have to break it to get this thing fixed?” He yelled, not feeling anything as he saw the three young doctors shake and vigorously nod their heads. The tallest one, she couldn’t be a day older than 25, quickly entered the access code and opened the door. Revealing a large waiting room with one assistant behind a desk. He heard the elevator music first, after that came a whiff of something. Some kind of flower Bucky couldn’t recognize.

“I have an appointment.” Was the only thing he said as the assistant moved his eyes away from the computer and saw the former Winter Soldier. He was different, he wasn’t scared of Bucky.

“Name and date of birth please.” He asked kindly as he faced back to the computer.

“This must be a joke.” Bucky said, as he watched the assistant’s motionless expression, he realized it wasn’t. “James Buchanan Barnes, March 10th, 1917.”

“Thank you, Dr. (y/l/n) will be with you shortly. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?” He smiled again, only enraging Bucky even more. He decided no answer was needed. After about two minutes, he saw the door swing open and a field agent came out first.

“Thank you so much Doc.” She smiled, Bucky had seen her before if he remembers well, she even introduced herself. But like always, he never remembered anyone’s name. She smiled as she passed him, and he just nodded back. After the agent, a woman in that dreaded white bathrobe came out. Average build, fragile looking, late twenties, it would take me less than two seconds to knock her off the ground. Bucky thought, immediately erasing the thought from his mind, something his therapist had taught him to do.

“Mr. Barnes, please come inside.” She said, her voice was extremely peaceful and calm. Everything about her seemed that way. It was as if one of those singing birds from Snow White had come out of the storybook and became a human. Bucky followed her into her office and sat down, looking at the pendulum sitting on top of her neatly organized desk. Swinging back and forth infinitely. “You’re here because your arm is giving you trouble?”

“The metal one.” Was the only thing he said, she just nodded and motioned him to sit on the exam table, “I’m not laying on that. I’m not five.”

“You’re obviously not five, you were born in 1917.” She quickly replied. “If anything, I should have you sitting on a wheelchair, or one of those reclining chairs they have elderly people in. I need you to lay down here to check your prosthetic. I also need you to remove your jacket, and anything that would obstruct me from performing my analysis.”

With a quick glare, he followed her instructions. He took his jacket off and without thinking twice, ripped the sleeve from his t-shirt.

Laughing a bit, the doctor started contorting his arm in different directions. “You superheroes really have a passion for all things dramatic. You could have taken off your shirt.”

“This was easier.”

“Not much of a talker, are you?” she said before pressing on a disk near the arm’s wrist. Gaining a hiss from the former assassin.

“Could you just stop.” He said in an annoyed tone. “I’m just here because your people were waiting for me once I got off the damn plane. Now stop messing with it before you break my arm.”

With one swoop motion, he was back on his feet. “This is made from an incredible rare material. Something that they probably didn’t even know existed at whatever school you got your degree from. Which one was it?” Bucky said, getting more and more angry as he saw the doctor didn’t even flinch at what he was saying. He started looking around the walls to see where she had that paper framed. The one every doctor likes to display, as if it was some sort of badge.

“I don’t have a medical degree. You can say this comes,” Dr. (y/l/n) took a pause. “Naturally to me.”

Bucky let out a small laugh. “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, I’m not going to have some random person who couldn’t even finish med school looking at my arm. It’s probably more expensive than everything you own.

Dr. (y/l/n)’s expression didn’t change, the small smile still on her mouth. “Pepper’s team warned me about you, Mr. Barnes. They said you were, difficult.”

“Difficult.” Bucky scoffed as he leaned on the medical table, he watched the doctor move back behind her desk. Typing something on her computer, the printer slowly coming to life, sending out a small piece of paper.

“Well, they actually said you were a huge pain. Difficult is just the word I choose to use.” She adjusted her glasses and read what was on the paper, taking out a pen and signing it.

“It really shows that after Steve left, this place started hiring just about anybody. Their whole system is going to fall apart if they keep uncredited people here.” Bucky spat out, aggravated at the mere thought that Sam would have sent you here with her.

“You’re not completely wrong with that statement. But I don’t think it was after Steve, it was before that. At one point they even recruited brain washed assassins.” The doctor replied with a grin on her face, only making Bucky’s blood boil even more. “Try this, it will help with regaining mobility.”

Bucky ripped the paper out of the doctor’s hand, crumpling it up and shoving it in his back pocket. Turning around to leave the office.

“Oh and Mr. Barnes, you have to come back to finish the assessment before you can go back into the field. Those are the orders stated by Mr. Wilson.” Again, that smug smile adorning her face. Does she always have something to say? Bucky thought as he stormed out of the medical building, heading straight to Sam’s room. He was going to hear what Bucky had to say about that know-nothing fake doctor.

Bucky heard Sam’s laugh before he actually saw him, as the automatic doors opened, he saw that the laughter was directed towards him.

“I’m guessing by your angrier than usual glare, you saw (y/n).” Sam said with a gigantic smile.

“Was that some sort of prank? You hired a fake doctor only for me to go and waste my time?” Bucky asked as he strode past him walking straight into the kitchen.

“What did you have planned for the rest of the day? Sitting on the corner of your bed at three pm, standing in a corner at four and do your hair at five? I know you do your hair, it’s impossible for it to always be perfectly imperfect.” Sam said shooting Bucky a questioning gaze, but he just rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “And what are you talking about fake doctor? Please tell me you let her do her job, if not I can’t let you come on the mission tomorrow.”

“Of course I didn’t, tomorrow I’m going to see an actual doctor to get a stupid note that says I’m fine! Even though I’m telling you right now that I’M FINE.” He yelled as he smashed down the bottle, making it as flat as a piece of paper.

It was at this specific moment that F.R.I.D.A.Y. said: “Bucky Barnes, you have an appointment with your therapist tomorrow at 11:30 am. If you were to miss this appointment, you will be sanctioned and will not be able to assist on missions.”

This obviously sent Sam on a fit of laughter. “That message couldn’t have come at a better time. Anyways, you need to get your appointments aligned. I suggest you go to the Doc’s office tomorrow morning to see if she has anything available.”

“Just send me the actual doctor’s office and I’ll be there tomorrow morning.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Bucky, I don’t know who got it into your head but, (y/n) is an actual doctor. That why she’s Dr. (y/l/n) and not just (y/n).”

“She was the one who told me she’s not credited. She doesn’t even have a medical degree, let alone know anything about vibranium!” Bucky said throwing his hands up in the air.

“You don’t have a degree but that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of being an ass. And an annoying one too!” Sam said, getting frustrated with the conversation. “Look, Dr. (y/n) has been here for a long time, she knows what she’s doing. Maybe you don’t know anything about her because you were frozen for half of your life and the other half you spent being a cyborg assassin. Also, she was one of the first people to handle vibranium when it was found in Wakanda, so I think she knows something about that. She even spent some time in a hut over there, just like you! You have more things in common than you think. So, tomorrow you’re gonna get her some coffee, go to her office, apologize for being, well, you; and get that arm fixed. In the meantime, you can look up some things about her. You do remember how to google things right?”

“Of course I remember. Could you just help me get on the net?” Bucky said while holding out his phone, it was now Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.

--------

The next morning, Bucky reluctantly made his way back to the medical building. The two disposable coffee cups were almost knocked out of his hands when the doors swung open.

“Back already Mr. Barnes?” he heard Dr. (y/l/n) say, it surprised him that she would talk so casually with him, given that yesterday he was, difficult. “Should I put down extra thirsty as a side effect on your chart?” She asked pointing to both of the cups.

“Actually Doctor, one of them is for you. I didn’t know what you drank so one is a black coffee and the other one has a splash of milk and sugar. Sam told me you would accept coffee as an apology, some sort of olive branch.” Bucky said, shoving both of the cups near her for her to choose.

“You can take me to get coffee instead. Judging by the stale smell, this is day old coffee. Plus, I don’t think you have tried oat milk lattes.” She smiled as she guided him to the restaurant inside the compound.

“Oat milk wasn’t a thing in the 40’s.” Was all that Bucky replied. “I wanted to formally apologize. It’s something new to me, my therapist says I should externalize my feelings more. I did not know your past; you know with the whole regenerative thing.”

This was the first time he saw her not smile. She looked away for a moment and asked “Did you try what I told you. It’s a type of oil that seeps into the smallest indentations in vibranium, creating a protective layer. With that, and some rehabilitation exercises, you will feel as good as new.”

Bucky just shook his head, not wanting to talk about his less than normal extremity. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she interrupted. “I know what you’re going to ask me. I may not be able to read minds but this profession has taught me many things, one of them being how to read people’s expressions.”

“Can you still do it?” He pressed on, if what he had read was true, then she was probably one of the only people that could understand what he was feeling.

“Yes, of course I can. As a supersoldier I would think you understood. It’s not something that you can just turn off, it’s here forever.” She said pointing to her whole body. “I didn’t want this; I didn’t ask to be able to regenerate. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time and with the wrong people.”

“I researched you last night.” Bucky admitted shooting her a shy smile.

“Didn’t think you were tech-savvy.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. “That was a long time ago, she’s long gone. I thought what I was doing was the right thing. And he, he convinced me that it was. But alas, I was only some sort of protection. Receiving the bullets that would wound him and healing the cuts that would kill him. But after I realized all the damage, we were actually doing I, I found this place. And from there on I decided I was going to heal other people. Even if they couldn’t regenerate.”

“I can relate.” Bucky said, slouching back on the bench they were sitting on, a weird feeling appearing inside of him. Something that he wasn’t used to, relaxation and peace. “I appreciate you not flipping out yesterday, I was out of line.”

“I’ve dealt with worse people here.” She laughed. “I looked at your videos fighting. You need to take better care of that arm of yours.”

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me Doc, had I known I would have smiled at the camera.” Bucky said shooting her a smile, it was the first time she had seen him actually do that.

“It’s my job to check my patient’s whole file.” She explained but couldn’t resist to smile back. “And you can call me (y/n) by the way.”

“In that case, call me Bucky.”

[littlestarofthewest]

Forever ago request that I started long ago and finally finished. Hope you'll see this, anon.

Title: Saved by the Bell | Words: 2,611 | Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Arthur x female reader

You can't exactly tell when it started; you just know it's getting worse. For a few weeks now, you and Arthur have been dancing around each other, making jokes and comments that aren't solely friendly. You also don't remember who started it, but now that you're both in it, neither of you wants to give in and stop. 

Somehow, Arthur always manages to do his work right in front of you, often needlessly shirtless, giving you a good look at his muscular body. In turn, you bend over way more than necessary, not caring if your clothes stay in place, exposing your cleavage or legs up to your thighs. 

Today, it's one of those days again. Arthur is chopping wood, always in your frame of vision, once again refusing to wear a shirt. He only stops when you use helping Pearson as an excuse to lick your fingers clean at every chance you get. 

Arthur disappears after that. You see him again when you're down by the river to clean some clothes. He washes barely a few steps away from you. Unlucky for him, you're not the most squeamish when it comes to cold water. Only dressed in your chemise, you don't care how the stream soaks the fabric, making it cling to your thighs. 

By the time Arthur walks over to you, you managed to get a few splashes of water on your chest as well, letting your breasts shine through like a beacon in the night. Arthur's eyes clearly rest there for a moment before he looks at your face.

"Charles said you wanted to come on our next hunting trip. That true?" he asks.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Lots of wild animals out there. It's pretty dangerous."

You know he doesn't mean that. After all, you've been out with them before. The whole conversation is just another way of teasing you. Arthur is standing way closer than he has to or does with the other girls. Droplets of water are still searching their way through the hair on his chest to run down over his stomach before they find their end at the hem of his jeans, not allowed to venture any deeper. Just like your gaze.

After weeks and weeks of this, it begins to annoy you. "You know, the chance of being ravished by some wild beast out there doesn't scare me at all. In fact, it would be a nice change of pace."

Arthur needs a moment to process your answer, and something in his face and posture shifts. "Are you sure? You could get hurt."

He sounds way too serious, and maybe you should get to the bottom of it, but you're out of patience. You get up and pick up the basket with the clothes before leaning over to Arthur. "I'm tired of the chase, Arthur. If you want your prey, you shoot it, or you don't. You don't make it run until it wants to throw itself off a cliff just to put an end to it."

Arthur opens his mouth but doesn't say anything. At that moment, you decide that you don't want a man who can't be honest about what he wants. You gave Arthur enough hints, making clear that you wouldn't be opposed to taking it a step further with him. If he can't act on that, then you'll call it quits. 

"Maybe I'll find someone else to hunt with," you say, walking away. For a brief moment, you have a flicker of hope that Arthur might hold you back, but the silence behind you is absolut. It's over.

[Line Break]

A week later, Arthur and Micah bring in a big score. They're the most unlikely pair out there, but Arthur is also the only one who can keep Micah in check aside from Dutch. Arthur chooses to work with him, so nobody else has to.

It's barely past noon, but a little celebration is born. People are singing and drinking, and while you're usually not much into booze, you make an exception this time. Micah, on the other hand, gets drunk faster than anybody else. That's probably why he tries to talk to you at all. You could never stand him and made that so clear that even a thickhead like Micah accepted that he should avoid you. Today, he seems to have forgotten all about that.

"Come on, doll. We've just gotten off to a bad start. I'm sure we can become friends."

The way he lets his eyes roam over your body makes it pretty clear that being friends is the last thing on his mind. Usually, you would have told him to get lost, but Arthur is walking over to get another beer, and an evil voice inside you tells you to get even. 

"Friends, huh?" you say, reaching for the collar of Micah's shirt. You straighten it before running your fingers over his skin, playing with the little hairs on Micah's chest. "That all?"

Micah grins, trying to puff himself up. Instead, he sways dangerously, barely able to stand upright. "Oh, I can be more than that. Say the word, and I'll show you a good time."

It's not lost on you that Arthur hasn't moved from his spot. He's just standing there, listening in on your conversation. "Tell you what," you say, leaning over to Micah and dropping your voice, "I'll think about it, but you have to do a lot better than this."

Arthur drops the bottle he's holding, but Micah pays him no mind, too occupied with you. "Let's go right now."

"Get sober first," you say and push Micah, making him fall flat on his ass. You walk away, hearing Micah laugh behind you.

You hope that he's forgotten all about this when he wakes up. You don't have the nerve to keep him off your back again, but Arthur's reaction was worth it. 

Not in the mood to participate in the festivities, you grab a basket from Pearson's wagon before venturing into the woods to find berries or mushrooms. The sun drops down through the trees, basking even the darkest places in a warm light. The bushes hang ripe with berries and picking a few, you wish everything was that easy.

You're about to move on when you hear something behind you. Pulling your knife out, you whisk around, the basket dropping to the floor. Arthur is coming out from behind a few trees, lifting up his hands as he sees you. "Just me."

"Why are you following me?"

"I was just heading into the woods," Arthur grunts. "Is that a crime now?"

You put away your knife and drop to your knees to collect the scattered berries. Arthur moves over to help you, annoying you even more. You can't be angry at him for being nice.

"Cowardice should be a crime," you murmur under your breath. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see how Arthur clenches his jaw, fighting not to give you an answer. Two berries later, he loses the battle. "I'm not a coward."

"If you say so."

"I'm not afraid," Arthur huffs, "just because I'm not an asshole like Micah."

You grab one of the berries so hard that it crushes in your hand. "At least he wants me and acted on it."

"Who says I don't want you?" Arthur hisses.

Your faces are only inches apart now, and you stay there to hold your ground. "If you want me, Arthur, you have to take me. You can't-"

You don't get a chance to finish the sentence. Arthur closes the gap between you and presses a hard kiss on your lips. At first, you're too stunned to react, but then you throw your arms around Arthur's neck, eager for more.

Spurred on by your reaction, Arthur moves closer, and you topple over into the grass, Arthur on top of you. He kisses you open-mouthed and sloppy, his hands digging into your sides. It's almost painful, but you can't hold back either, running your hands over his chest.

While opening his shirt, you rip off a button, and it flies away into the bushes, never to be seen again. Arthur kisses along your neck while his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts. You arch your back, pressing up against him, and Arthur opens your dress. With quick fingers, he manages to work it down enough to expose you and leans in to kiss every inch he can reach. You thread your fingers into Arthur's hair and can't help that you pull on it when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. 

"Finally," you gasp, and Arthur reaches down to pull up your dress.

His hand immediately goes to your center, his hand sneaking into your underwear to tease your pussy. With how long you've been waiting for this and the rough treatment of Arthur now, it's no surprise that you're soaking wet for him, and Arthur moans against your skin at the touch.

"You really want to get ravished, huh?" he murmurs, and this time you pull his hair on purpose. 

"You really should listen better."

"Fine," Arthur grunts, something in his voice that makes your skin tingle in anticipation. "Turn around."

He gives you free and helps you along, rolling you onto your stomach. "Arthur, what-?"

You can't finish the question and let out a surprised squeal when Arthur grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, forcing you to go on all fours. He pushes your skirt up with the same enthusiasm as before and pulls down your underwear, just enough to have access. 

For a moment, you can't feel Arthur but hear him rummaging around with his own clothes. Then, a warm hand finds your thigh, the touch setting butterflies free in your stomach. Arthur might talk about ravishing you, but doesn't have it in him to hurt you, still way more careful than you're used to.

He moves closer, making you feel his heat as he brushes his cock along your wet folds before pushing in. You claw your fingers into the ground under you as Arthur stretches you open, pushing in deep until he draws a soft cry from your lips. He stills then, hesitating once more.

"Arthur, please," you say, pushing back against him, "more."

Finally, Arthur moves with more confidence. He thrusts into you while his fingers dig into your hips, holding on to you for leverage. Knowing that you're not that far from camp, you try your best to stay quiet, but with the way Arthur treats you now, you can't suppress eager moans.

When you add the occasional "God, yes" and call out Arthur's name, he groans and goes even harder. You dig your hands into the ground and push back against Arthur, your insides on fire. It borders on being painful, but you still can't help begging for more.

Arthur runs his hand over your back and up your neck before he fists his fingers into your hair. The touch alone sends heat waves through your body, and then Arthur pulls. You're forced to lift your head to avoid the pain and hollow your back, lifting your ass even higher in the process.

Using the new angle, Arthur takes you without mercy, holding on to your hair. You're completely under his control, unable to move unless you want it to hurt. Cries of pleasure escape you, and without warning, Arthur pushes you down on the ground.

He only glides out of you to get into a new position, then he forces your legs apart with his own, pushing back into you. You groan when you feel Arthur's weight on you, and he grabs your hair again, making you lift your head. 

"Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?" Arthur asks, something dark in his voice.

Before you can answer, he already thrusts into you, and you remember how you talked about being ravished by a wild beast. It seems Arthur finally takes your words to heart. He barely gives you a second to breathe, holding you in that limbo between pain and pleasure, and your only choice is to take what he gives you.

When Arthur finally lets go of your hair, he puts his hand around your throat, and although there's no pressure on it, the gesture alone has you whimpering. 

"You're mine now," Arthur says, his breath hot against your ear. "No more joking around with Micah, you understand?"

"I was just-"

Arthur only moves his fingers, and you become quiet, barely able to breathe.

"Try that again," Arthur says, and you swallow hard, sure that Arthur can feel it.

"No Micah," you say, and Arthur hums, satisfied.

He picks up the pace, only interrupting the way he ruts into you to pull back and push in deep, making you cry out each time. By now, you're sure that at least one person in camp must have heard you, but Arthur gives you no chance to think about it.

He's everywhere, his voice, his touch, and his cock, filling you up so good that you're trembling with lust. You feel like you can barely take it anymore when Arthur reaches under you, his fingers pressing against your clit. Trapped between his hand and the constant thrusts, you can't hold on any longer.

"Arthur, I-" you manage to say but break off when your orgasm hits your core and rushes in waves through the rest of your body.

Arthur holds still as your muscles tighten around him, letting you set the pace for now. You push back against him, riding the last waves before your body relaxes and Arthur glides out of you.

He carefully turns you around, cupping your face with his hand. "You're alright?"

You lift your head to kiss him, a big smile hopping onto your face. "More than alright."

"Good," Arthur says, kissing you back, and you reach down between the two of you.

"Come here, big boy."

Arthur moans when you grab his cock, and when he tries to protest, you kiss him and hold on to his neck. This time, it's you who doesn't give him a chance to move, your hand sneaking into his hair.

Arthur curses against your lips as you tuck at a few strands and his cock pulses in your hand. He buries his face against your neck, his hips bucking, and finally, everything goes quiet.

You both take slow breaths before Arthur lies down next to you, staring up into the trees. 

"You know, we could have done that months ago," you say, unable to keep the snide out of your voice.

Arthur huffs. It's a single, somewhat defeated sound coming from deep within. "I admit it, I'm an idiot."

You turn to him, running your hand over his chest. "It's my fault, too. I could have been more forward instead of waiting until even Micah made a move."

"I said no Micah," Arthur groans.

"What? If it wasn't for him, you never would have made a move," you tease. "You should thank-"

Arthur moves over so fast that you barely see it before his lips seal yours. 

"I thank Micah in hell," he growls, fury in his eyes. "And I think I said no more Micah talk."

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes, but you can't help the tingling feeling that his voice sends all over your body. "I'll shut up if you make me."

Arthur laughs and leans over you, his lips almost touching yours. He grabs a strand of your hair, letting it run through his fingers. "I think I know just the way to do that."

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 28

A little smut.

Part 1...Part 27

***

Zelda paced back and forth in front of the Goddess statue the next morning.  She wore her prayer dress for appearances, and had no plans to step in the water, but for the first time in months she felt as if she were actually trying.

"Evidence would support that I am not a complete failure."

Link nodded.  "It looks like you definitely have sealing powers."

"Yes, but that's how it's always been.  I've always had them but couldn't access them.  It's as if...it's as if the sealing powers are inside a locked house, and I can't get inside.  Last night, I looked through a window and saw that the powers were there.  Or even worse than that, because I didn't even see it.  You did.  I still can't reach them.  We're in the same place we were yesterday."

"I think it's a little bit better than yesterday."

"Exactly!  The conditions under which the sealing power will unlock must be related somehow to the conditions of last night.  If we can pick apart the many variables and recreate it, we will surely find a method to unlock the Goddess' power.  I think we can be certain that unlocked via orgasm would be ineffective.  It must be some condition tangential to an orgasm."

"Ineffective."

"Yes.  You would have to battle against Ganon, and then run over to have sex with me so I can seal him away.  I don't suspect Ganon would wait for that, and it seems too much to ask of you."

He tilted his head.  "You could get off on your own.  While I fight Ganon.  You could--you know--watch me fight.  If you're into that."

"I am not into that.  And I don't think this is a plan worth pursuing.  We cannot be guaranteed privacy when the Calamity strikes."

Link looked unconvinced.

Zelda paced more.

"Do you think it was because you were happy?" he asked.

"Happy?  I am happy!"

He lifted an eyebrow.

She scowled at him.

"I'm just saying.  Working on your happiness wouldn't hurt."

"I will add it to the list of possibilities."

"Maybe it was because you let go."

"What do you mean?"

"You gave up control for a second.  Maybe that has something to do with it."

That didn't feel right either, but she said, "Maybe."  She hugged herself as she kept pacing.

"And this hasn't happened before?" he asked.

"I've never done anything like that before!"

"I mean...when you're alone?"  His ears were red.

"I--I didn't even know it happened last night!"

He frowned.  "That could mean that it always feels that way.  And it does happen every time."

"Or it could mean that it doesn't feel like anything, so sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't."

"I think we should find out."

She considered.  "It would be good to know if I need assistance in further investigations."

He waved the idea away.  "Of course I'll help you in further investigations.  I'll help you this time too."

She rolled her eyes.  "Helping me defeats the purpose."

"But I'll watch and let you know if you're glowing."

She bit her lip.  "I think you watching might skew the results."

"...Right.  What if I hide, and you don't know if I'm watching or not?"

"Is there any chance you won't watch?"

"...Not really."

She sighed.  "At least we'll know if your physical involvement is necessary."

She came to a stop in front of him, staring him in the eyes.  "Right.  Well."

"Right."

He swooped in and kissed her.

She swatted him away.  "You're contaminating my experiment!  Go away!"

"Okay.  Umm.  Close your eyes and count to fifty and then...go for it."

Her face was hot as she turned away from him and clasped both hands over her eyes.  When she was done, he was nowhere to be found.

And then she had to...go for it.  She rolled her eyes at his wording.  Then she strengthened her resolve.  This was for science.  This was for Hyrule.

There did not seem to be any comfortable prospects for where to carry out her experiment.  Should she lie on the cold stone?  Or stand leaning against a wall?  She decided to sit rather primly on the two dry stairs before the pool.  Not the steps at the Goddess' feet, because that seemed crass.  The steps facing the Goddess, which had the problem of facing the Goddess.

She closed her eyes.  She closed her eyes and started small.  Just touching her neck.  A featherlight, teasing touch.  Her insides pricked, but her nerves kept her tense.  Too tense.  She was messing this up.  She took a deep breath and slipped down to her collar bone.  Link would kiss her there if he had the chance.  She recreated his touches from the night before, dragging up her ribs and teasing her breast.  It felt different in her prayer gown with so much less fabric.  Her hands dipped inside her bodice, and she shuddered, but it wasn't really working.

She should have brought a book.

She sucked two fingers into her mouth before drawing up her skirt to stroke herself.  It helped to think of Link's tongue.  It helped to imagine her fingers were his, how he would have to sit behind her, his chest to her back, to stroke her like this.  Maybe he'd whisper into her ear.  You're beautiful, Zelda.  Goddess, you're so beautiful.  And he'd groan, pressing his face to her throat and breathing hard.  His hip would jerk, rubbing against her rear, and she thought about the length of him, how it was longer than her fingers, wider than her fingers, how she'd clench around it.  Yes, Zelda.  Yes.  His fingers sped up, found the right spot.  There!  Yes!  More!  Come for me, sweetheart.

And she did. 

She had no idea if she lit up or not.  That was disappointing.  How was she supposed to conduct a proper experiment if she was never in any fit state to make observations?  And now she felt embarrassed.  And tired.  And cold.

There was a thunk behind her as Link dropped to the ground.  He must have been on the roof, looking in through the open ceiling.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"Yes.  But someone's coming."

Her eyes widened.  She scrambled to fix her dress and then splashed into the water, which was painfully cold.

It had worked!  I had worked!  What did that mean?

Many footsteps were coming towards the sanctuary.  When they stopped, she turned to see Link kneeling before her father and his array of guards.

Oh Goddess, her father.

"Princess Zelda, we must discuss your--"

"I've made progress."

He startled.  "What?"

"The Goddess has given me her blessing.  I need to meditate further.  In seclusion.  Somewhere private.  Maybe for a while, but I feel very close to something."

He blinked at her.  Maybe she had some residual glow to her.  Or maybe she was just flushed.  But he seemed to believe her.  "...I was going to suggest you begin your pilgrimage to--"

"The Spring of Power in Akkala!  Yes!  Perfect!  And when I return, I will have unlocked my sealing powers."

***

Part 29

[getitinbusan]

The September Session

18+ Jungkook Birthday Smut

The Studio Sessions Finale

A weekend birthday getaway in Jeju with Jungkook. A smut and angst filled finale to the Studio Sessions.

Words: 9075

Warnings: 18+ smut. M/F sex, M/F-F/F oral, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, cheating (?) poly relationship

"I don't think you can fit anything else in there. You know you're only going for 2 days right?" Yoongi picked up a pair of your lacy underwear and went for the free throw into your bag. "If I know anything about you and Jungkook, it's that you won't even need clothes."

"Only 2 days? Are you really that unbothered by me leaving?"

"I know how to pick my battles." He undid his zipper and gave you a crooked little smile. "You'll make it up to me."

"Will I now?" It was supposed to sound teasing but your knees were already on the hardwood. Pulling his soft cock out of his jeans, you wrapped your hand around him.

"You're gonna be a good girl and drain my cock before you leave, yeah?"

You tongued his tip as he grew harder twitching in your palm.

"Every last drop." You suctioned him soft and slow not wanting to leave him unfulfilled.

"Fuck, yeah…" his eyes were closed as he pumped himself into your waiting mouth.

Wanting to take it to the bed, you pulled back, but he stopped you by catching your hair. Wrapping his hand securely around it, he held you still and picked up the pace. Granting him full access to your throat, you dropped your drool-covered hands while he used your face to get himself off.

His deep moans and breathy exhales were his tell. His balls bounced off your chin and with the last few aggressive thrusts, he shot his hot load onto your waiting tongue.

"That was good." He tucked himself away into his pants and extended his hand to help you up.

"I've gotta go." He kissed your cheek. "I've got a meeting with that new group in 20 minutes. Have fun okay."

He opened the door and he was gone. No sexual reciprocation, no I love you, just a, "have fun."

It wasn't like him and you were left trying to determine if he was giving you the cold shoulder because he was upset or even worse, if he wasn't upset about you leaving at all.

An abrupt knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. All worries were forgotten when you opened it to find Jungkook grinning ear to ear.

"Are you ready Noona? The car's gonna be here in 10 minutes."

Grabbing your bag off the bed, he flung it over his shoulder like it was nothing.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have you thought about your birthday wish?"

He pulled you in with his free hand. "You've already made it happen. I can't believe I get you all to myself for 2 days."

You pulled the door shut behind you and kissed him. "I'm all about making birthday wishes come true."

The car rolled up the tarmac where the private plane sat in wait. The red-carpeted stairs extended, greeting you like royalty.

"You booked a private flight?"

His nose scrunched in happiness at your surprise. "Nothing but the best for you." He kissed the back of your hand before leading you up the stairs.

"You know this isn't supposed to be about me right?"

"I may have some ulterior motives." He said as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

"Yeah? Is this a mile-high club mission Jungkook?"

Even though your chairs were face to face and his eyes were hidden behind his bucket hat, his smile said it all.

"Trust the plan Noona."

Shortly after takeoff, the intercom dinged. "You may proceed to move around the cabin freely."

Jungkook unfastened his seatbelt and stood to lean over your seat. Grabbing the side lever, he reclined your chair back and moved in for a passionate kiss that immediately made your toes curl in anticipation.

Humming in delight he broke away and knelt on the floor. His fingers dragged delicately up your skirt. "What am I going to find under here, how well do you know what I like?" Pulling your thighs apart he sucked air through his grinning lips. "No panties. You really do know. "

"It's easy." You felt desperate for the pleasure you knew he was capable of inflicting. "We both always want the same thing."

"And what is it we want, Noona? Hmm, tell me."He was staring, lost in the sight of his fingers toying with your sex.

Reaching out you tipped his chin until his eyes locked with yours. God, you wanted to but couldn't.

You had to stop yourself from telling him that what you really wanted was more than 48 hours. You bit your tongue to keep it from spilling the words, "I want to run away with you and never go back." So instead, you went with what was easy and what you thought he wanted to hear. "I think we want to cum at 32,000 feet."

They must have been the words he was expecting because a devilish grin appeared at your response.

"48 hours," He lifted your foot to rest it on the seat." Of nothing," he lifted the other foot. Sliding his hands behind you, he pulled your hips forward. "but pure," He dropped his head and laid a long languid lick up your cunt.

"Pleasure." You finished the sentence not wanting him to use his mouth for anything else let alone words.

His hum of agreement sent shivers of anticipation down your spine. You gazed at his face intently. He liked when you watched. Splaying you open with his fingers, your engorged pink nub stood begging him for attention. You bit your lip trying to hold your noises in, squirming as he teased it with the tip of his tongue drawing slow circles around it.

You pulled at his long hair and begged, "Stop teasing me Kookie."

His mischievous amber eyes glinted under the cabin's bright lights. "It's an hour-long flight, and I forgot my headphones. You're just going to have to be my entertainment."

You hadn't touched each other in a while, and Yoongi had been too preoccupied with work to even notice you were around. Other than giving his pre-departure blow job you'd had no action in at least a week.

You knew if you whined enough he'd give in. "I can't be patient, when my pussy knows what it's been missing, Jungkook."

"You're spoiled," he mumbled into your cunt.

You tried to sit upright, but he held your hips down and stuck 2 fingers inside you.

"I'm spoiled? The last of the sentence trailed off quickly into soft submission under the strokes of his fingertips on your g spot.

"Is that better?" He took delight in knowing you were instant jello.

"I missed you."

His fingers kept a steady pace as he kissed you. Soft, constant, his tongue lingered, his mouth catching your moans.

"I just want you to feel good. Tell me where you want my mouth."

"Please Jungkook, you know what I want."

"Say it, for me, for my birthday." He was pouting in between kisses. "I just want to know that you want me."

"I want you so fucking bad Jungkook. I want you to suck on my tits and finger me until I cum."

He was grinding his cock against the edge of your seat when the plane started shaking.

"Please fasten your seatbelts. We're going through a patch of thermal turbulence that should only last a few minutes."The voice from the cockpit didn't phase either of you.

His free hand pulled your shirt up and your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples just above the lace cups. Grabbing the seatbelt, he clicked you in and pulled the strap tight. "Safety first," he barely muttered before locking on to your breast.

The plane shook violently, heightening every sensation. His fingers and the jolting of the plane had your pussy dripping down his hand. "Jungkook." Your moans were high and you couldn't care less if anybody heard. You were almost done. Watching him rut his hips against the vibration of the seat, eyes closed, as his mouth latched greedily at your chest was sending you into overdrive. "I'm gonna cum, are you gonna cum for me, baby?"

His face screwed up in pleasure and his moan was long and drawn. Seeing him reach his height, you clenched around his fingers as they continued their assault on your sex until you too were satisfied.

"Shit," he stood up revealing the huge wet spot in his jeans. "I don't have a change of clothes in my carry-on."

Undoing your seatbelt, you leaned forward and untucked his t-shirt making sure to kiss his abs along the way. Well, thank god for baggy shirts."

You tucked the last of your clothes inside the drawer. "So what's the first thing on our birthday weekend to-do list?"

"Well, there's parasailing, scuba diving, jet-skiing…." He kept listing.

"You know we can't do it all right? You're going to have to narrow down your choices a little."

"Aish, come on Noona. I brought you because I thought you could keep up."

You stood between his legs as he sat on the bed. "Is that why you brought me, Jungkook? Because we share an affinity for water sports?"

His hands groped your ass before he pulled you down on top of him.

"Amongst other things," he giggled while tickling you. "Jimin's fun to hang out with but he never puts out."

"Oh my god, Jungkook." You rolled your eyes and stood back up. "If we're going to get even one of those things on your list done we'd better leave now." You extended your hand to help him up. "Let's go."

____________________

You were soaked. Jungkook was taking great delight in the jumps he created by running the jet ski in circles over his own wake. Hanging on to his waist tightly you were surprised he could still breathe.

"Are you okay back there?" He stopped the watercraft to check-in. Do you want me to slow down?"

"Did you hear my safe word?" You took a teasing nip at his bare wet tricep."

"Not yet but I'd really like to."

A hot blush crept up your cheeks. It wasn't like Jungkook to suggest anything wild, and it threw you off.

"Are you asking?" You could see his ears turning red and he took a minute to answer.

"You're just hanging on so tight."

You didn't want him to hold back, so you prompted the response. "And…"

"The thought of me in control and you, a little scared, kind of turns me on."

Pressing your face against the expanse of his wet skin, you wondered if he could feel your smile.

"Do you see that island?"

You pointed. "I want you to take me over there."

"Do you want me to go fast?"

"I think we both want you to go fast."

"Then you should hold on."

As he restarted the jet ski your hands made their way back around him but this time they ended up in his shorts. Sneaking past the mesh liner, your fingers gave a little tug on his thick wet pubic hair. His already semi-hard cock came to life in your hand in anticipation of the attention it was about to receive.

There were no trespassing signs posted all around the small island. "I don't know Jungkook, maybe we should just go back and fuck in the room." You said it, not because you meant it, but because he wanted to play.

He pulled the ski up onto the shore. "You can't just tease me like that and make me wait, Noona. Let's go."

He began trekking into the patch of dense greenery, and you wondered if someone actually lived here.

Stopping just under sufficient cover of vegetation, he grabbed you and pulled your bathing suit bottoms down and pushed you against a nearby tree. "You're driving me crazy in this fucking bikini." He tugged his shorts down and needing no prep thrust himself into you.

The bark was rough against your skin, your back scraping with every upward thrust he pumped into you.

"Hello!" Echoed around you. "This is private property."

"Fuck, Jungkook, let's go!"

"I'm not done." He clamped his hand over your mouth. "Shhh, stop moaning so loud or they'll find us."

"I know you're out here I saw you seadoo on the shore." The voice carried across the island getting closer.

"Wrapping your leg around him, you grabbed his hair and moaned into his sweat-beaded neck. "We're gonna get caught, Kookie."

"Let them watch. I'm not stopping until I fill your cunt."

Your back felt raw, but the pleasure and pain of an adrenaline fuck was worth it.

"Are you afraid of someone seeing us? What happened to my brave girl?"

"Are you hurt, do you need help?"

The snapping sound of a twig breaking under a footstep was close. Too close, but also just enough of a thrill to spur on a hot flood of Jungkook's cum deep inside you.

Just as you got your bottoms back up the old man appeared.

"This is private property, are you looking for something?"

"Sorry," Jungkook turned on his charms." Our intake got clogged with some debris so we pulled over to clear it." He pointed at you, "you know women and their small bladders, she always has to go. She got scared when she heard you so we didn't answer. Sorry."

The old man laughed. "I've been married 4O years I know all too well.

You were surprised at Jungkook's ability to spin a story so quickly but more impressed that he was unflappable in his determination to cum at all cost.

Apologizing to the man once again you walked back to the jet ski.

"Shit are you okay?" He ran his fingertips gently down your back.

You stood on your toes and kissed his lips. "Did you hear my safe word?"

"I did not." He grinned.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to try harder next time."

____________________

His eyes rolled and he hummed in enjoyment. "Umm it's so good, it's like a dessert orgasm."

"I can't believe you're replacing me with chocolate." You pulled a pout. "Don't waste yourself on whipped cream Jungkook, I've got bigger plans for pleasure tonight."

"As much as I want to do unspeakable things to you, I'm not ready to go back to the room." He took the last bite and leaned back in his chair, stretching, completely satisfied. "I thought we could go to this place called Factory. Yugyeom told me it was really cool."

"Sounds fun." You couldn't help but grin at how naive his thinking was.

Licking your finger, you rubbed it through the powdered sugar on his plate and popped it in your mouth. "Silly you think we need a bed for me to get you off."

"You're a crazy woman."

"Crazy for you Jungkook."

The club was dark and crowded. He blended in well. The University students, looking to let loose for the weekend, offered a camouflage of anonymity he wasn't usually afforded in public spaces.

"Whiskey?" He took your hand and led you to the bar. "It's your weekend. I'm letting you call the shots." It was too loud to hear the groan you knew accompanied the eye roll at your bad pun but you were satisfied by his smile.

"To us." He clicked your glass.

The liquor went down smooth and warm, causing welcome tingles through your body. Coupled with the wine you'd had with dinner you'd hit the perfect peak of lowered inhibitions and pure bliss.

"Your glowing Noona." He kissed your forehead.

"And why wouldn't I be Kookie? I'm in paradise with my boyfriend. Come dance with me."

You noted the look of satisfaction on his face as he led you to the floor and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Nuzzling into your neck, he swayed with you slowly to a pace that didn't match the fast music of the club. Whether it was the alcohol or the sheer intoxication of longing you couldn't be sure, but you could feel his heart thumping against you.

Stopping completely, his hands cupped your face, and he stared into your eyes.

"What's wrong, Jungkook?"

His cheeks burned hot, and he was fighting his smile from appearing too eager. "Do you think you could call me your boyfriend again?"

You nodded. "I'd really like that."

His lips found yours and time stopped around you. Abandoning all common sense, you were both picturing what your together forever could look like.

He broke away out of breath and slightly overwhelmed.

"I think I'm ready to take you back to the hotel."

____________________

Stretching out naked and satisfied beside him you glanced at the clock, 12:36 am. You turned your head back and placed a kiss on his chest. "Happy birthday Kookie."

A little drunk and a lot in love you felt secure enough to ask. "Are you happy?

He let out a giggle, and you were 100% positive that if the lights were on his dimples would look like deep canyons etched into his cheeks.

"So happy…" his soft snores gave away just how content he was with the moment.

"I love you," you whispered. Maybe he wasn't awake but it counted. A full commitment to your feelings. Eager to reaffirm your words, you drifted off knowing that tomorrow you'd make sure he knew just how happy he made you.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you back down on top of him.

"I was getting up to call room service so you could have breakfast in bed." You feigned annoyance half-heartedly to getaway.

"Food can wait." He wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. "It's the first time we've spent an entire night together. I really like waking up beside you."

"So you mean you don't want to go on that five-hour hike you booked months ago because you really, really, really wanted to do it?"

Surrendering into his stronghold, you teased him. "Because I'm totally okay just hitting up the spa."

He groaned in hangover.

"Shit. I totally forgot."

"Should I go order us some coffee and food now?"

"Probably."

"Are you going to let go of me?" You squirmed under his arm.

"Hmm...5 more minutes."He giggled, throwing his leg over you.

____________________

Pulling the car up to Mt. Hallasan you both stared at the daunting task before you. "Are you sure you can handle it?" He popped the trunk and grabbed your backpack.

"Do you doubt my abilities, Jeon?"

"Normally, no." He hoisted the bag onto your shoulders. "But this knapsack weighs a ton. Seriously, what's in here?"

"Mind your business and worry about yourself, sir." Raising his hands in apologetic surrender he closed the trunk, "Alright, let's get it!"

Trying to set a steady pace the timing had to work out just right. You couldn't tell if he was getting frustrated or being chivalrous, but at least once every half-hour he asked if you wanted him to take your bag.

"Did you know they don't let anyone climb after 1:30 because they don't want people stuck after sunset?"

"Is that your way of calling me slow, Kookie?" You stopped in your tracks and starred. "I didn't know you were so afraid of breaking the rules. Do you want to turn around and go back?"

"Noona, did you wake up this morning with the intention of being a pain in my ass?"

"That's just rude," you huffed. Arguing was one way to buy some time. "I can't believe you don't even appreciate that I'm out here climbing a fricken mountain for you."

"If you're serious, I'm sorry." He walked closer to you and kissed your cheek.

"It's fine." You walked away smiling. "Now if you'll stop stalling, we can still make the summit by sunset."

He paused, flabbergasted, but decided to stay quiet and move on.

____________________

Finally reaching your destination it was perfect. Sunset from the highest peak in Jeju was in full bloom. Everyone had been moved swiftly along by the trail guides, so it was just you, Jungkook, and the stunning view from 6388 feet above the world.

"Wow, look at this, Noona. We're on top of the world." He took off his backpack and dug for his camera.

"I feel that way whenever I'm with you, mountain or not." You tapped his shoulder and handed him the present you'd been carrying."

His eyes and smile were more dazzling than the sun glinting its way over the horizon. "Is this why you wouldn't let me carry the bag? It's so heavy."

"Open it!"

Tearing the paper off, his jaw dropped. "Is this a Hasselblad?"

You nodded. "Did I do good?"

"This is unbelievable! It's one of the best cameras in the world."

"I did a lot of research."

He was still in shock. "It's too much. I can't possibly accept this."

"Don't be silly Jungkook, It's all ready to go. I had them set it up for you. I was kind of hoping you'd take some pictures for us," You suddenly felt shy. "You know, so we can look back on this and remember how great it was."

"It's unbelievable. You're unbelievable!" All trepidation at accepting the gift forgotten, he began taking pictures.

By the time he was satisfied with the scenery, he turned to focus the lens on you.

His camera crosshairs found you sitting on the ground. A blanket, a bottle of wine and a cupcake with a candle. His smile peeked out from under the camera as he snapped your picture. "All this too?"

"I wish it was more but I could only carry so much." You passed him the bottle, "I couldn't fit cups, I hope you don't mind."

He leaned in for a kiss. "It's perfect. I honestly couldn't dream of a better day. Thank you."

"So are you going to get down here and blow out this candle before it's completely melted?"

He sat on his knees and closed his eyes. Concentration crept over his features until he seemed satisfied enough to blow.

"What could the man who has everything possibly wish for?"

He smiled brightly, "Don't jinx me. You know if I tell you it won't come true."

You wanted it to be about you, and you wanted it to come true so badly that you didn't ask any more questions.

"Come sit with me." He kissed the top of your head once you were settled, secure in his arms. "I should have gotten out of bed sooner. We could have had more time up here."

"You've got a few hours." You said it nonchalantly like you hadn't had to name-drop and beg the parks department.

"They're letting us hike after dark?"

"Sort of? There's an ATV waiting at the Seongpanak shelter we're going to use to get back down the mountain."

"I get to ride an all-terrain down the mountain?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that part."

____________________

The air in the room was cold as you stepped from the steamed-up bathroom. "It feels so good to get that hiking dirt off. You should have joined me.

"Rubbing the towel through your wet hair, you realized you were alone.

"Jungkook?" Checking through the suite's other rooms and even opening the hall doorway, he was nowhere to be found.

Glimpsing an out-of-place white shirt on the beach you made your way out the patio doors.

"Jungkook?" If he heard you coming, he didn't turn around.

Sitting behind him in the sand, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and squeezed. "It sure is a beautiful night." Sighing he leaned back to rest his head against you.

"Are you okay?" He didn't answer. He didn't need to. You could see the shimmer of his tears in the moonlight.

"What are we doing, Noona? How do we all come out of this happy?"

You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter.

"I don't know, Kookie. It was never supposed to be like this. I was silly to think I could ever resist your charms."

"Sure blame me."

At least he was grinning from your flattery now.

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled trying to ease the heaviness.

"Do you see that Star up there?" The waves broke on the shore in the background. "I'm confident it will always lead me in the right direction."

"Like fate?"

"Like fate." You nodded, agreeing. "I'd really like to think that the universe had a reason to bring us together."

"What do you think the reason is?" Freeing himself from your embrace, he asked the question in all seriousness.

"Happiness." You answered like you knew. "Even if we can only have it in small increments."

"I can't believe you just live your life accepting that things will turn out. Does anything scare you Noona?"

It was against your better judgment, but his vulnerability always had a way of breaking down your walls. "Me?" You laughed. Perhaps he didn't know you as well as you thought.

"I'm terrified, Jungkook."

Taking notice of the new sadness in your eyes, he took your hand and held it patiently, waiting for your words.

"One day you're going to find someone who can give you their whole heart." The sobs came out loud and uncontrollably. "Without any compromises, you're going to finally have all the happiness and love you deserve. And I'll be watching it all from the sidelines, wondering if it could have been me."

"It can always be you. But that's your choice to make."

Salty tears fell down your cheeks, and you were too emotional for any words to come out coherently.

"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you." He encompassed you in his arms. "I'm sorry. Let's just enjoy the rest of our time here together." He looked at his watch. "We've still got 11 more hours before we have to give up the fantasy. Let's not think about the real world right now."

Raw, emotional and completely vulnerable. Everything you wanted in a man was right before you.

You sniffed feeling relieved the conversation, at least for now, was over. "11 hours huh? We can have sex at least 5 more times."

He stared with a look that almost bordered on pity. "You know I didn't ask you here just so we could have sex. I'm perfectly happy just getting to spend time with you."

"It's all I know, Jungkook. I don't know how to show people I love them without it." It was a sad truth. "Besides, you're really good at it."

A half-hearted smile graced his lips.

"Can we make an agreement?" He stood and reached to help you up.

"What's that?" You kissed him.

"What if instead of 5 times we just do it once. But properly."

Walking up the shore back to the room you kept stealing glances. His long dark curls and sun-bronzed skin shone in the moonlight accentuating his ethereal beauty. Your heart was happy and broken at the same time.

____________________

Laying naked in bed your heart was racing. You'd never felt nervous with Jungkook before, but this seemed different.

Something about your conversation on the beach had you playing the lyrics to "if I'd known it was the last time" through your head.

The sound of the shower shutting off struck a chord of permanence you weren't ready to face and a tear rolled off your cheek onto the pillow. Quickly wiping it away you didn't want your worry to ruin the last night you had together.

The bathroom door opened and Jungkook came out in a cloud of steam. Towel wrapped around his waist, the water droplets still clinging onto his chest made him look even more beautiful than you thought possible.

He smiled when he noticed your gaze and swiftly moved to untuck the small corner of terry cloth that secured his covering.

His lips were parted and his breath was heavy as he stood before you completely bare. His cock wasn't hard, and his display didn't even seem sexual. It was as if he was showing you his soul and you felt guilty not reciprocating his vulnerability.

Pulling the sheets back you swung your legs off the bed and walked over to where he stood. Face to face you pressed yourself against him, feeling his warmth radiate through you.

"I love you." He whispered.

Kissing down his chest you took your time letting your lips linger over every firm muscle. Licking hot wet stripes over his hardened nipples, his body shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin.

Not a word was spoken, you didn't need them. Everything was being said in a physical language that only the both of you were fluent in.

Your nose skimmed down the soft hairs that pathed his lower abdomen, his cock growing firmer the closer your mouth got to it.

Dropping to your knees, you took him in your hand stroking him reverently. Gorgeous and thick the freshly washed skin of his cock smelt like strawberries and you couldn't resist him a second longer.

Wrapping your lips around him, you sucked soft and slow. God how you wanted this to last all night.

"Noona." Your name slid softly out of his mouth while you suckled his length.

Lingering a bit longer, you wanted to remember how he looked right now. So full of pleasure, the kind only you'd ever given him. You hoped he'd never forget how good you were together.

When you stopped, he looked down and stroked your cheek. You could see in the deep brown sadness behind his eyes that he too was trying to harvest as many memories of the moment as he could.

He held his hand out to help you up and pulled you back in close to him. Tilting his head and displaying a sympathetic smile he didn't break eye contact as he danced with you towards the bed.

Despite the heavy air you couldn't help but giggle as he twirled you, lying you back onto the crisp white hotel sheets. Standing at the edge of the bed his large hands travelled down your thighs and spread them apart. It was his turn to take station on the floor. Starting at the inside of your knee he alternated kisses back and forth giving each leg equal attention until his mouth reached your needy mound.

As much as you wanted to watch, your eyes involuntarily clamped shut in pleasure as his tongue explored you.

A master with his mouth, he knew all of your hot spots. Circling your clit and teasing it to swollen attention he'd switch to slow methodical sucks, lips wrapped around your pink bud giving it head until you squirmed. As soon as you were close, he stiffened his tongue and fucked you with it, darting in and out and in.

As your legs started to shake at the onset of orgasm, a sign that he knew all too well, he revoked his mouth. Climbing on the bed he helped you pull your legs up and lay beside you. His hands travelled over your body slowly committing every one of your curves to his memory. His fingertips on your skin sent white lightening to your brain and his mouth latching onto your nipple made your insides roll like thunder.

"Jungkook…"

"Shhh.." He placed his mouth on yours and your heart panged at how much you missed his lips when they weren't attached to yours. As skilled as he was at everything else tongue-related, you wouldn't trade his kisses for any other sexual act in his repertoire.

Pausing his kiss, he locked his eyes with yours. A silent "are you ready?" passed between you.

With a simple nod, you pulled him back to you. His body moving from beside you to on top of you had your head reeling. The longing for satisfaction was fighting with your desire to drag this on all night.

You surrendered. You needed to stop thinking and to let yourself go to what you knew would be your last time.

Tipping your chin he once again connected to your longing lips while his hands slowly travelled down your thigh. Raising your leg and hooking it over his arm he created the perfect angle for entrance.

Pushing slowly, his girthy length slid into your sex and he paused.

Eyes closed, time stood still. The heavy anticipation hung in the air like a storm cloud.

He kissed you. Kissed you like it was the first time, the last time. His lips not once leaving yours as he softly made love to you.

You couldn't cum and you didn't care. The connection you were feeling with him right now was better than any orgasm.

You knew he was close and your heart was breaking at the realization that this was it. You didn't want him to think he hadn't satisfied you because he had. He had in so many more ways than you ever thought possible. Moaning in unison you cried out one last time as he filled you with a future that wasn't meant for you.

The kisses lingered until the activities of your long day finally defeated his longing to stay awake. His chest rose and fell with what you wished was a peaceful sleep.

Laying tucked under his arm, your cheek rested just over his heartbeat. "I love you too."

You'd both been awake a while but you lay in silence trying to absorb whatever last remnants of the weekend you could. Someone had to speak first, so you took the hit.

"We should probably get out of bed. Our flight leaves in 2 hours."

His fingers intertwined with yours and he lifted your hand to his lips.

"You were wrong on the plane, you know." He sighed and placed a small kiss on your knuckles. "When you said we always want the same thing."

You wiggled out of his embrace and propped yourself on an elbow to interrupt him. "Don't we? I thought we had a really good time this weekend."

"I did, but," he looked like he might cry. "You're lying there thinking about going home, and I'm running schemes through my head about how I can find a way for us to stay."

"Jungkook," you collapsed back into his side. "You know that's not how this works." A tear slipped from your eye and you hoped he wouldn't notice it. "We've had a good couple of days, let's not ruin it with what if's."

"All I have are what if's Noona.

I don't understand why you won't choose me."

You'd never seen him this upset before.

"Yoongi Hyung, he doesn't deserve you. If you were mine, I'd never share you. You'd get everything you needed from me, and you wouldn't have to go anywhere else to find it."

"It's not that simple, Jungkook."

"Well, it seems pretty simple to me. The only reason I can think of is that you don't really love me the way I love you."

Pulling away from him, you tucked your knees into your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. His words made you feel like a small piece of nothing.

"Please don't ever believe that...I couldn't stand the thought of you not knowing how much I fucking love you."

He didn't move to comfort you, and you could tell this conversation wasn't going to steer easily. He was building a wall around his heart and you could feel it getting further away from you with every passing minute.

"Have you ever thought about what would actually happen if I left Yoongi for you?"

"Yeah, every damn day. We'd be happy, he'd get over it," He snapped defensively.

I'm not talking about you and me, Jungkook. I'm talking about you and him. Do you ever think about that? I can already see that this is fracturing your relationship with him."

He dropped his head in realization, still not looking you in the eye.

"Why are you doing this now?" Crying uncontrollably the words barely got out. "Why can't we just keep going on like this? I thought we were happy? I thought we were in love?"

His breath was shaky,

"I brought you here because I had to see. I pulled out all the stops to woo you and it still wasn't enough."

"So on the plane when you said, "trust the plan" you knew that it was going to end in an ultimatum? That even If I didn't choose you at least you'd get fucked a few more times?"

He stood his ground, face stoic until he finally looked at your tear-stained cheeks. His jaw relaxed and his sadness finally revealed itself.

"I can't be second place. Not with something that matters so much to me. Not with you."

He got out of bed and headed to the shower. "We'd better hurry up. Like you said, we don't want to miss our flight."

Other than formalities the next few hours were mostly empty.

Standing, waiting for your bags, Jungkook finally broke his silence.

"I sent Yoongi a message asking him to come get you. I think I'm gonna spend some time at my condo for a bit."

Perching the Sunglasses that disguised your swollen eyes on the top of your head, you gave it one last try. "I Love you Jungkook. Please don't do this…"

"We both know I'm not enough. What do you want from me?"

You were hyperventilating.

"I don't want to lose you."

He kissed your cheek in a way that seemed like it might be a real goodbye. "We both know there's only one way that can happen."

Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he turned back a final time. "I had a really great birthday. I guess I'll see you around."

Making your way to the second Suburban in the pickup line, you stood and watched as Jungkook pulled away in the first. How were you going to hide how sad you were from Yoongi?

The driver came around and opened your door to expose the emptiness of the huge van.

"Where's Yoongi?"

"Sorry, we only received an airport pick-up call, ma'am. Will you be going back to the HYBE building today?"

"No, thanks. I don't think that I will."

____________________

Y/N: Hey

MIN: Hey! Sorry I couldn't come to meet you. So much work.

MIN: I hope you had a good time. MIN: Come down to the studio when you get back.

Y/N: I was thinking it would be nice for us to spend some alone time at the condo.

Y/N: Could you come after work? Take a few days off?

MIN: I can't just pick up and leave right now, but I'll see what I can do.

His lack of effort was really beginning to hurt.

Y/N: Whenever you can, I guess.

The blackout curtains were betraying you. The opening between the panels was just wide enough for a ray of sunlight to hit you directly in the face.

You yawned, "Yoon, I think we need to move to an underground bunker." Rolling over you were reminded by the cool smooth sheets that even though the condo was 10 minutes away from work he couldn't be bothered to come home yet again.

You reached for your phone. No messages.

Y/N: Hey babe, where are you? I haven't seen you for days.

The floor was cold as you made your way barefoot across the kitchen to start the coffee.

Still no response. Your stomach felt uneasy, he'd usually at least text. Picking up the phone you dialled.

"Hello?" His voice was raspy like he'd just woken up.

"Hey, I'm a little confused why I'm the only one here." You tried to keep your tone light, despite your aggravation.

"I'm sorry. I was heading out last night and PDog asked for help. He's trying to write for the new girl group and the lead's vocal style isn't meshing with his flow. I sat in on their session to see if I could help."

"Yoongi, are you ever going to take a break?"

"This is why I didn't text you. I don't need a lecture about it. They have a debut date and shit needs to get finished."

He sounded aggravated and if you had to guess he was most likely pushing his hair back, an anxious habit he had recently developed.

"I wish you'd work on us as much as you worked on your music."

"I thought you'd be thrilled that I'm busy. Where are your other boyfriends?"

You were crying again. "You're right Yoongi. I'd have to be absolutely stupid to want to spend any quality time alone with you."

"Fuck, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm tired, okay?"You could hear him cover his phone but managed to make out a mumbled "I'll meet you downstairs." There was a pause and a door clicking shut. "When I'm done, I'll drive over and we'll spend the rest of the week together OK? I love you."

"You frustrate me to no end, Min Yoongi." You sighed at your own inability to stay angry with him. "I love you too."

____________________

Tired of opening one app after another, you tossed your phone on the couch beside you. You could sit here all day waiting for Yoongi, who probably wasn't going to show up anyway, or you could just head back to the dorms.

Even if he did manage to get away, his mind would still be on work. He'd just be trading one studio for another, and you knew he preferred the new HYBE equipment. At least there you could hang out with whoever was still around.

You were sure Jungkook would be at home. Joon was art hopping in Seoul, and Jin was in Uncle mode helping his brother settle in for their soon-to-be new baby. Everyone else would most likely be hanging around the offices.

Y/N: I'm incredibly bored, Jimin. I'm coming to visit.

Chim: Ohhhh, I'll play with you! I've got a new toy I think you might like.

Y/N: Intrigued 🤔

Chim: I'll be in the lounge. See you in ½ an hour?

Slinging the heavy duffle bag of things, you needed to return to Jungkook over your shoulder, you waited for the elevator. Just as it pinged Jimin came bouncing up the hall.

"What are you doing? Where are you going? I told you I have a surprise!"

"Can I just bring this stuff upstairs first?"

Breaking out the dimples and a cute head tilt he stared with puppy eyes until you agreed to follow.

You hurled the bag into his arms. "Fine but this better be good."

Pushing open the door he raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Ladies first!"

Stepping into the room, you were sure your jaw was almost on the floor. You pushed him backwards and slammed it shut behind you.

"Jimin what the fuck? There's a naked girl in there!"

He frowned at your unexpected reaction. "You don't like your present?"

"I really don't know what's going through your head. Who is she? You know you can't just do this with strangers."

"NDA's!! She's one of the new trainees, if she talks she'll get fired."

You scoffed at him. "No abuse of power there. This is a real dick move, Jimin."

"Well, it's not just me."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. "Who else?"

You watched his Adam's apple bulge in his throat with a hard swallow. He was clearly choosing his words carefully.

"Hobi"

"and?"

"Taehyung and I have already…" His words trailed off

"and?"

"That's it. I swear."

"Not Jungkook?" The thought turned your stomach.

Jimin rolled his eyes "You're kidding right? Jungkook is too whipped for you to even look at anyone else."

You sighed in relief but began to internally ponder why your first reaction was to ask about Jungkook and not Yoongi.

"I just…I don't understand why you'd think this is okay."

"You do crazy stuff with all of us all the time. I thought you'd be impressed."

Plopping onto the bench in the hallway, you were really taken aback.

"Jimin, I thought we were all in this together. A poly relationship doesn't include bringing in strangers. All of you sleeping with her is exposing me without my consent. I'd never do that to any of you."

He sighed like you had missed the point. "This is me asking for your consent. Yoongi thought you’d be down for it and that…"

"That what?" Your jaw was clenched. "You're my best fucking friend, Jimin, you'd better not lie to me."

He stammered in defeat. "That if I could get you and her together it would be easier to have her join in whenever with whoever."

"So Yoongi orchestrated this? Like this is an actual fucking conversation that took place between you?"

He knew he was fucked.

"Please don't tell him you know."

"Oh, I'm not gonna tell him anything."

Anger, blinding rage? Whatever it was motivating you, you pushed open the door and smiled. "Let's do this then."

Standing up she walked towards where you stood. Jimin, clearly surprised by the turn of events, was already hard and smiling while palming himself over his pants.

"What took so long? Jimin said you were always down to fuck." She was bold; it felt as If she was challenging you.

"Just trying to make sure you were screened. Dime a dozen groupie girls like you come riddled with diseases these days."

Grabbing her face tightly in your hand you kissed her hard before directing her backwards. "I'm the one in charge here. This is my game. If you want to play with the big kids, you'd better get back to the couch so I can see if that tongue is good for anything other than talking shit."

She smiled and lay back as Jimin undid his pants. Grinning like a high-school kid having sex for the first time, he stood stroking his cock while you pulled up your skirt and straddled her face.

He walked closer to you waving his dick at your mouth like he was on a fishing expedition.

"I don't think so. If I'm disposable, so are you."

"Can I at least fuck her then?"

You made him wait a bit before you answered. Making sure to play up your pleasure you threw your head back and closed your eyes while moaning. "You know Jimin, I think you made a mistake. I don't know if I'll need any of you if I can have this whenever I want it."

It was a lie. You were so angry you couldn't think straight let alone feel pleasure right now but you wanted it to sting.

You felt her smile slide over your wet pussy and she stuck her tongue in deep for good measure. It pissed you off that she thought she was winning you over.

"Go ahead Jimin, use her."

Excited that his plan was finally working, his demeanour changed back to how he'd met you at the door.

She spread her legs wide for him while he knelt between them on the couch.

"Stop! Where's the condom Jimin?" You scolded him. "You can't just raw dog a rando."

She laughed, and it made your blood boil. "Yoongi never mentioned how controlling you are. No wonder he wants to add me into the mix."

You froze, staring at Jimin. You were livid and couldn't believe any of them would want to have anything to do with her.

Getting up you calmly smoothed your dress back down your legs.

"Oh shit. You didn't know? I figured you pieced it together when you called this morning as I was leaving." She smiled coyly. "Sorry he hasn't been making it home the last few nights."

You thought back to your conversation this morning. He said, "I'll meet you downstairs." The dorms were on the upper levels, the studios on the lower.

You wanted to smack the smug look off of her face but instead walked out slamming the door.

Wiping tears away frantically, the facial recognition on the elevator wasn't processing you through your turmoil. The doors slid open and you ducked inside just as Jimin ran out to stop you.

Standing behind the closed doors you had to decide, Confront or hide? Your finger hovered, shaking as you pressed, Floor 12.

Running quickly you punched the memorized code into the keypad. Turning the handle you slid inside hoping to god that Jungkook wouldn't be there.

Resting your head on the door, you could barely breathe. What were you going to do?

Taking a deep breath you inhaled the comforting scent of Jungkook that permeated the walls of his Golden Closet Studio. You felt so stupid, you'd ruined everything with him and for what?

The knock startled you and you almost gasped revealing your hiding spot. You could hear them in the hall outside.

"She knows he's not here; she probably went back to the condo to get her things."

"I can't believe how badly you fucked this up, Jimin."

Jimin must have alerted Yoongi to the issue. The two men were now seemingly combing the building trying to find you.

"Me? I'm not the one who cheated, don't blame me."

Yoongi's voice was calm instead of sad. Damage control mode, you'd heard it before. It made you question if he was as worried about losing you as he was with protecting his career and the company from this scandal. "I didn't cheat. We only talked about it."

"I don't think Y/N sees that as any different Hyung."

"This is so bad." Hitting what was presumably his head against the door, the thud echoed around the room. "You'd better get your ass into Hitman Bangs office right now and explain to him why his latest girl group suddenly needs a new lead. We can't keep her around if she's going to act so indiscreetly."

"You have to fix this Yoongi. You know how much we all need Noona."

You heard the ding of the elevator and presumed they had both moved on but the quiet was broken when your phone vibrated, shaking the contents of your purse. Seconds later Yoongi's voice cut through the silence, he was leaving you a voicemail.

"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. Can we just talk about it? Give me a chance to explain myself. Tell me where you are, and we'll figure this out okay?"

You'd have to face him sooner or later, so you opened the door.

"Hey."

He looked relieved. "Hey. Can I come in?"

You nodded and held the door wide for him to enter.

"Jungkook's not here?"

You chewed your lip trying to stop yourself from having a complete breakdown. "No, he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. I made it pretty clear that I would always choose you and he didn't take that so well."

"Fuck. I'm such an asshole. I had no idea." He couldn't look you in the eye, so he turned away. "How the hell did it come to this Y/N?"

You wanted to be mad, but you couldn't, you knew you were both to blame. Pressing your face into his back your tears left wet marks on his t-shirt. "I think we both know the answer to that."

"I should have let you go. I knew you were happier with him, but my pride didn't want to lose you like that."

"Yoongi, it's not all your fault."

"It is, though. The minute I felt relieved that I didn't have to put as much effort into our relationship anymore is the minute we should have had this conversation."

He turned to face you and wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you, and I need you to know that I didn't cheat on you. I thought about it but only because I was upset that you were with Jungkook."

You tried to interrupt, to defend yourself but he continued.

"I'm not blaming either of you. You two belong together."

You were frustrated that he couldn't have come to this conclusion sooner. "Well unfortunately, it's too late for that. He fucking hates me now."

The keypad beeped, and Jungkook, looking worn and sad, walked in apparently having overheard your last statement.

"I could never hate you Noona."

Your heart flipped in your chest. You didn't think you'd ever get to see him again.

"I owe you an apology Jungkook. I should have stepped aside when I saw how much you loved her."

Putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder, Yoongi turned and gave you one last smile. "She needs you, go and take care of your girl."

Closing the door behind him, Yoongi took his leave.

"I'm sorry I came up here. I didn't know where else to go." You brushed the tears that had begun falling away with your fingertips. "I'll go."

He grabbed your hand, so you couldn't walk out. "No! There's no way I'm letting you go this time. I've been miserable the last few days without you."

It was his turn to cry. "Jimin sent me a message and said they needed help finding you. I got so scared that id never see you again."

He pulled you into his arms and kept placing small kisses on top of your head while apologies streamed from his lips.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I never had any intention of ending things when we went to Jeju. I didn't want to give you up but everything you said made sense and I didn't want to hurt Yoongi either."

"I love you so much Jungkook." Your body shook while you sobbed in his arms. "I'm so fucking sorry if I hurt you."

Picking you up in a bear hug he walked you to the couch. "I missed you so much, can we just lay here together for a while? I just want to hold you"

"I don't think we should, actually."

He pulled back, a puzzled look across his face.

"I'm so tired of dorm rooms and studios, Jungkook. I think it's time we try out something more permanent, you know? Just us. Like home?"

The sparkle in his eyes returned. "Like our home, because you're mine now?"

Your heart was full. You didn't need or want anything or anyone else.

"I'm all yours."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 6 -

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Wen,” the boy with the gentle smile who called himself Meng Yao said, bowing. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Wen Qing did not especially want to talk to – anyone,  really, but she really didn’t want to talk, least of all, to a boy some seven years her junior, from another sect with everything that entailed. But just over his shoulder, she could see that Wen Ning was smiling, his cheeks almost bulging with the force of it, as he spoke with the other children, making friends for the first time in his life, and she supposed it was in her best interest to make friends as well.

“I’m not planning on staying, you know,” she told him, just in case, and he nodded agreeably. “I’m a prisoner of war.”

A very comfortable prisoner of war. Who may or may not have put up very little fuss about getting captured when her supposedly secure carriage escort had gotten raided by the Nie sect, especially when their sect leader had recognized her by sight on first meeting and bowed politely instead of taking her head off at once as she might have expected. He’d even asked after her brother’s health – Wen Ruohan hadn’t done that once in the entire time she’d known him, and still less after he’d abruptly gone mad.

And he had, in fact, gone mad.

There was no other way to explain his behavior.

One day he’d been fine, scheming and vicious and narcissistic the way she’d always known he was but also cautious and thoughtful, set upon a slow and inexorable scheme of domination that would see him eventually claim all that he desired, and the next moment he was – very nearly unhinged. He saw himself as the rightful master of the cultivation world, just as he always had, except now it was as if he had had safely it in the palm of his hand and then had it snatched away from him, rather than anticipating a future prize to be eventually savored; he was frustrated and so, so angry, lashing out at all around him.

His sons had loved the idea of attacking the other sects – Wen Xu was old enough to plan out battles, the son of Sect Leader Wen’s previous wife, while Wen Chao, who was still young but old enough to tear off the limbs of small creatures, couldn’t wait to torment the children that had shown him up in achievements, stealing the accolades that he viewed as belonging to him.

They were still young, she’d told herself, and didn’t know better, could still be educated into something like kindness and compassion, but she’d also known that that wouldn’t help them if the other sects defeated theirs - that was the problem with war like this, where there was no room for mercy. What idiot would permit them to live long enough to seek vengeance for their clan?

What idiot would allow her and Wen Ning to live, assuming the same would be true for them?

As a result, Wen Qing had been much less enthusiastic about the whole project, although after her uncle had made an example of the few generals that dared to protest his decisions she was very quiet about her lack of enthusiasm. It didn’t mean she agreed with anything he was doing – that wasn’t new, she hadn’t agreed with anything he was doing for years now, but she’d gotten used to closing her eyes and shutting her ears, but nowadays it was much worse than before. He was acting as though he’d already finished all his carefully-laid plans – the ones he’d previously recognized were necessary as a foundation for the strike he would be ready to make in five or ten years, the one-shot-kill domination of the cultivation world – and nothing, seemingly, could be done to convince him otherwise.

Not even the risk to his precious sons.

The Fire Palace was full of new people, and new things, too, and if Wen Qing ever found out what sick, twisted mind had come up with those torture machines…

“Of course you’re a prisoner, Mistress Wen,” Meng Yao said smoothly. “I am merely acting as a prison guard. Would you like some lunch? Or a bath, or some rest…?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not a servant,” she said. “Your clothing is too fine for that.”

“I’m a disciple of the Nie sect, a new one,” Meng Yao said, and she thought he almost sounded surprised about that. “That doesn’t mean that I can’t see to your comfort.”

Wen Qing looked again at Wen Ning, who was now being lured onto the training field and a bow pressed into his hand by excited youngsters. His cheeks were bright red, a sure sign that someone was complimenting him – probably the Wei boy, the Jiang sect’s ward, who was waving his hands around very enthusiastically as if he were trying to sell Wen Ning whole and entire, clothing and crown thrown in for free. The other children seemed just as enthusiastic, though, excluding perhaps the Lan sect’s second young master who mostly just looked harassed but continued to linger as if he were hoping for even more harassment.

It seemed…exhausting.

“A bath would be nice,” she said, giving in with a sigh and wishing, not for the first time, that she wasn’t one of the oldest of her generation. Wen Xu was older, yes, but he obviously wasn’t here, and most of the Nie sect that were her age would be away to war soon enough if they weren’t already. She foresaw a great deal of babysitting in her future. “And then, perhaps, a conversation with some relevant individual to pass along important battle information that I definitely wouldn’t have access to, being a humble and unimportant doctor?”

Meng Yao grinned at her.

“Oh, I think something like that can be arranged,” he said cheerfully. Probably more than he would be if he knew half the information she had to offer was completely insane – for example, her uncle had gotten terribly fixated on demonic cultivation of late, claiming that it would allow a single man to take down a battalion, except he had no idea how to make any of it work. She hoped he never figured it out. “The more the merrier here, Wen-jiejie, and I think we’re all of the opinion that the sooner this war is over, the better. Wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Wen Qing said tartly, not sure if she appreciated the intimacy or not. At least it boded well for her future survival, and Wen Ning’s... “Part of my uncle’s insanity has been his – quite frankly – ridiculous conviction that he needs to kill all of you specifically before you, and I quote, ‘threaten to shoot down the sun’.”

What madman would target the sun?

Maybe they should, though, she thought, and not as unwillingly as she’d always believed she’d be if it ever came down to it. Wen Ruohan might be her uncle, her patron, the one who pulled her up into the sky, and she’d always been resigned to the fact that if he was shot down, so would she; the knowledge had paralyzed her, forced her to be indifferent to his crimes. But the Nie sect was treating her as if she were still Dafan Wen, just different enough to be left out of the dirty water Qishan Wen was splashing all over her surname – through war, through domination, through the attempted kidnapping and murder of lots of innocent children...

Maybe it would be good for him to understand what it’s like to be made a target.

“I like that,” an unexpected voice behind her said – it was the Nie sect leader again, looking unusually boyish without his war-armor and with a smile on his face instead of a scowl. She abruptly wondered how old he was, and how much he’d suffered collaterally when it had been his father who’d been the target instead of her uncle; it hadn’t been something she’d thought much about before. “If there was ever a need to shoot the sun down, it’s now, with Wen Ruohan equating himself for it…it’s like aiming at kite flying in the sky that’s in desperate need of deflating. We could call the war the Sunshot Campaign.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Wen Qing couldn’t help but scoff. “What’s the likelihood that something like that catching on?”