#file under conversations we had to have over text because i could not have rambled that long without bursting into tears over the phone

[astralscrivener]

wild how cathartic it is to be completely vulnerable and admit some of the ugliest parts of yourself to your partner in the name of open and honest communication and betterment of the relationship and finish it all with “so do you still think i’m hot” and have her reply “yes 🥰❤❤❤❤” unflinchingly

[reids-rendering-reality]

Blind Date

Summary: Derek Morgan sets up two of his friends for a blind date. They have never heard of each other or seen each other. But something tells Derek’s intuition they would get along well.

Type: fluff

Warnings: talking about serial killers

Word Count: 1.9K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I walked into work on a regular Tuesday morning, coffee in hand, a book tucked under my arm and my bag draped over my shoulder. I wasn’t expecting anything at all, being the first to walk in as per usual. Following my typical routine for paperwork day I sat down at my desk and went through file after file on that big pile in front of me. After about 30 minutes the others walked in. Still, everything appeared completely normal. So normal in fact, that it was almost suspicious.

“Hey, pretty boy,“ Derek said loudly as he walked directly towards me, without even stopping at his desk first, “I have an idea that you’re not going to like at first, but you’ll agree to anyway.“

“If I’m not going to like it, why would I agree to it?“ I asked curiously and looked up at him as he came to a halt right in front of my desk.

“Because I am asking you to and you will thank me later. Now hear me out please.“

“Alright,“ I responded, shifting in my seat towards him and pushing my glasses up a little.

“So, you know how the other day you said that you never go out on dates?” He obviously noticed my face flush as my eyes darted around the room to check if someone else was listening, “I was thinking, how about I play the wingman to help you get a date?”

“You want to play the what?” I asked confused and shocked simultaneously.

“Forget it,” he said hastily, “what I’m trying to say is, I set you up for a date.”

“You did what?” I could hear my voice getting louder the more shocked Derek made me. Again looking around, I noticed Emily exiting the elevator.

“A friend of mine – a female friend, who is also single – recently complained to me how she always dates the bad guys and how she just wishes for a good guy to come along and sweep her off her feet. So I set up a blind date for you guys. Listen, Spencer, I know this is uncomfortable for you, but it’ll be fun. Just agree to it and see what happens. You can become friends with her or never speak to her again afterward. But just give it a shot, maybe you’ll even get lucky,” Derek grinned at me.

I thought about it for a moment. Why was I even considering it? This is a crazy idea! She probably wouldn’t like me anyway and I would just embarrass myself for a few hours before going home and reading the book just as I had planned. But the way Derek was looking at me like he would never let me say now, and just that little sliver of something similar to hope made me nod my head slowly and uncertainly.

“Great! Wait – it was that easy to convince you?” Derek asked, a little shocked.

“It was this easy to convince him to do what?” Emily, who now reached us, interjected.

I went to yell a quick “nothing” before the situation got out of hand, but Derek was faster and began explaining the scenario.

“And he agreed to a blind date? Looks like our genius isn’t that much of a recluse after all,” Emily mused as she walked away towards her desk.

---

Y/N’s POV

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I hadn’t been on a proper date in like forever plus 2. But I promised Derek I wouldn’t bail on him and go to the restaurant anyways.

So here I was, entering a beautiful Vietnamese restaurant that Derek picked out 5 minutes before 8 pm on a Friday. To ensure the blind-dateness of it all, the table was reserved in Derek’s name. And he picked the perfect spot. In the back corner, a little bit further from everyone else, but with a view out the window into Washington D.C’s buzzing nightlife.

The waitress led me to the table, which was not yet occupied. I sat down against the wall to make sure I would see whoever came in. Taking off my coat to reveal my satin dress underneath I shivered lightly at the lack of warmth. Maybe it was the nerves too. Taking a deep breath and looking out the window into the night, I tried to force myself to calm down. I did not want to make a bad impression on one of Derek’s friends. If he was one of his friends? I knew nothing about this man. Just that it was one. A man.

Just as I began getting lost in my thoughts of who would be my dining partner, I noticed footsteps approaching me. My clock read 7:58. At least he’s very punctual. Looking up towards the body the feet belonged to, my heart began beating faster.

In front of me was a tall, handsome man with longish hair, dressed in a fine black suit and a deep crimson shirt. He looked shy, his eyes wide open and his lips slightly parted. He turned to thank the waitress and I examined his portrait. Ugh, he was definitely attractive. I thanked Derek in my thoughts for knowing my type and giving this man a head start.

“Can I sit here?” his voice was quiet as if he were as uncertain as I was. I nodded and smiled slightly, to calm both his nerves and mine. He sat down and for the first time our eyes properly met. And for a second we just stared.

I was the first to look away, my nervousness taking over, “um- I’m Y/N”.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he said more confidently now.

After exchanging the expected small talk about how we both knew Derek and what we did for a living, we ordered our food. This is the moment I feared. Chitter chatter out of the way, waiting for the food. What if there was nothing to talk about now?

“You’re studying medicine?” he asked to draw my attention and I nodded, “how are you enjoying it?”

And boy, he should not have asked that. With my heart racing in my chest, so were my words. I began a ramble on how I always wanted to study it and what excited me the most. When I realised how much I was talking I abruptly stopped with an awkward, “so yes. I am enjoying it.”

He grinned slightly, which eased some of my nervousness. I smiled back at him slightly.

“I’ve been meaning to say, you look beautiful tonight,” he said and for the first time that evening, he sounded confident. I guess my ramble eased his nerves too. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I quietly thanked him.

Right then, the waiter came and brought our food. We ate in silence for a little while, but it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it was serene. We looked at each other occasionally, appreciating the other’s presence.

After a while, Spencer spoke up, “did you know that the reason why Vietnamese food is so healthy is partly because they don’t use that much oil? And of course also because the food contains so many vitamins, like C, B1, B6, and B3, but also many trace elements, for example, zinc, copper, magnesium, and potassium.”

I looked up at him as he started talking and nodded attentively, “no. I did not know that. But now I feel encouraged to eat Vietnamese more often.”

 We finished our dinner with pleasant conversation, Spencer interjecting a few interesting facts here and there. I quickly realised he must be incredibly intelligent, which made me even more attracted to him. But I must admit, I was pretty proud when I knew some of his facts and could even add to them with my knowledge. For example when we got to the topic of serial killers (which of course was unavoidable given his job):

“So one gene that could make a person psychopathic is the gene coding for monoamine oxidase A. If you have one version of it, the protein becomes ineffective and can’t break down your brain’s monoamines like serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. One study on a family in Holland found that they all had a version of it where the protein was completely ineffective. And they had unusually high levels of aggression and violence in that family,” Spencer said. His speed was almost hard to keep up with, but me hanging onto every word he said helped.

“I know! But the gene alone doesn’t suffice to make someone more aggressive. A study found that which gene version you have interacts with your environment during childhood. In maltreated children the effect on aggression can be seen way stronger than in children with a normal childhood,” I responded excitedly, leaning forward onto the table.

But Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, he froze, his lips parting as his jaw dropped a little. He stared at me with an emotion that appeared to me like shock mixed with fascination – and maybe awe? I didn’t know what to do so I just looked back at him shyly, feeling a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

 That night, Spencer drove me home, like a gentleman. When we arrived at my apartment, he got out of the car and walked me to the door.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” I said softly looking up at him.

“Me too,” he smiled, and then a sudden wave of nervousness washed over him, “would you maybe – I don’t know – want to… do this again some time? Only if you want to of course.”

A smile spread onto my lips as well, “I’d love to.”

---

Spencer’s POV

The Monday following my dinner with Y/N, I walked into the office with a slight bounce in my step. I was still ecstatic over how well it went, and that I even had a chance with her. We had texted all weekend, about anything and everything.

“Hey Reid, come over here,” Derek shouted at me from his desk.

My face instantly flushed as I realised I would now have to spill all the details to him.

“How did the date with Y/N go?” he asked curiously. I could feel the eyes of Emily and JJ on the back of my neck from Emily’s desk.

“Um- it went well, I guess,” I said, shuffling my feet around awkwardly.

“It went well? Come on, Spence, give us more details!” JJ said as the two of them came to join me and Derek as well.

“Yeah, I mean we talked a lot and she enjoyed my fun facts. We will go on a second date soon, we even texted all weekend,” I stuttered, not meeting any of them in the eye.

“See? What did I tell you, Reid? You would not regret this,” Derek told me and then turned to the girls, “am I one hell of a matchmaker or not?”

They giggled slightly as my hands reached up to feel my burning skin.

“I knew she would be your type, just like you’re exactly hers. Enjoy it, kid, she’s a keeper for sure,” Derek said while patting my shoulder as he left for the coffee machine.

[adonis-koo]

Blue Spring

| 4 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there...Well...besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter...if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words...You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Previous | Next

The last few months...were not easy.

Seo Yeon was not one to give up easily and she in fact did attempt to file for full custody over Mina, it was an absolute nightmare for Jungkook but you were with him every step of the way. Keyword, she tried. Three months, it was ongoing for the two of them, but eventually Jungkook won, you’d never forget the tears of relief he cried that day while hugging you. He’d never have to worry about Seo Yeon taking his beautiful baby away again.

“I’m just glad things are beginning to settle down y’know?” It was nice having things back to normal, the looming weight and pressure was constantly over your shoulders the whole two months the custody battle was going on. You had admittedly been terrified with each day you watched Mina wondering if it would be your last with her.

Even after the battle it still took another month for things to really go back to normal, for the tension both you and Jungkook had been under to slowly dissipate. Pausing your coloring you sighed as you watched Mina, who was happily perched on your lap color over the spot you had been working on with her pink colored pencil, “Rightly so, it was insane with everything going on with Jungkook’s ex. I’m just glad you guys won the battle, he would’ve been crushed if Seo Yeon actually won.” Chloe hummed as she leaned back in her chair as best she could.

You shuddered to think if Seo Yeon had won, she was manipulative and almost seemed unstable. You’d even go as far as to say she didn’t even really love Mina, it alway came across she was just using her as a tool to get Jungkook back. It made you feel disgusted.

“I don’t even wanna think about it. I’m just glad it’s over. It feels like maybe we’ll be able to spend more time together without constantly worrying.” You sighed as you went back to coloring, pressing your lips together as you honed in on princess Aurora’s hair.

“I’m sure you guys will probably be able to...you know...get it on easier than the past few months huh.” Lisa hummed, her eyes peering out over the room like a hawk.

You nearly choked on your own spit as you glanced up at both of your coworkers who seemed rather taken aback by your reaction, “Uh…” You nibbled against your lip, well aware your face was probably flushed as you glanced back down at the table.

“Shut up!” Chloe immediately straightened her posture, her hands pressed against the table as she leaned in, “You guys haven’t!?”

You sunk in your chair a little as you pressed your lips together, feeling like the tips of your ears were on fire as you shrugged meekly, “It was never the right time…” Your friend's expressions morphed into somewhat pity, as if understanding given what the circumstances were, “With everything that was going on, we were almost always preoccupied...I mean he tried a few times.” You muttered under your breath making Lisa choke on her drink as they both began laughing, a small smile peaking on your lips as you laughed with them, “But like I said, it was never the right time…”

“But hey...it’s been about a month now...y’know...just saying.” Chloe took a sip of her coffee as if she totally wasn’t insinuating what you all knew she was. You glanced back down at the coloring sheet, Mina had nearly covered it in pink making your lips curve up a little.

Shrugging meekly you answered, “It’ll happen when it happens. I mean don’t get me wrong Jungkook is...definitely ready…” You felt your cheeks flush at the memories of less than innocent text conversations. The once meek and docile boy you knew had completely changed in these few months to a confident man who was eager to get his hands on you, with every smirk, innuendo and steamy text. Jungkook had made it very clear he wanted this. But he never pushed or pursued outside of teasing, not wanting to pressure you or make you feel obligated. But admittedly just the idea made you squirm in embarrassment and heat. Of course you wanted to be beneath him, you were with him every step of such a harsh and taxing journey, you shared tears of joy together, you wanted nothing more than him.

You clacked your tongue, positive your cheeks were flushed as you glanced back at your paper, working around the spots Mina had colored in with her pencil. It wasn’t like sex was everything, you cherished your relationship with Jungkook regardless, but...Maybe you were just scared? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to worry about it. It would happen when the time was right.

The day passed relatively normal, you had gotten up several times to attend to other children and each time Mina was whiny, toddling behind you while gurgling, she was forming words now but nothing actually comprehensible, she was very enthusiastic regardless. Unless, again you were with another child, in which her speech would become more whiny and she'd stamp her feet as if thinking for sure that would gain your attention.

It was rather funny because Mina was a very jealous child, not just with other children but between you and Jungkook as well, always trying to capture not just his but your attention as well. It was cute. The day had gone relatively fast and by the time the evening rolled around kids were beginning to get picked up left and right.

Jungkook was no exception, peeking his head into the room as the smile twitched on his lips as he fondly watched Mina experimentally attach two magnet trains together, she immediately bounced on your lap with an excited gurgle as she showed you her two piece train, “Oh my goodness! Isn’t that so neat honey?” You cooed with a smile twisting on your lips as you leaned down, “But I think someone is watching you…”

Mina immediately perked as if knowing this little routine that anytime you brought someone up it was almost always daddy. She shrilled with excitement when her eyes landed on Jungkook, but rather than tumble off your lap she bounced while fisting your shirt as if trying to get you to pick her up.

Snorting you curved a brow as you stood up, setting her on your hip as you clacked your tongue, “Even she knows I go with you most days now.” Mina had gotten way too used to you leaving with you both and it was really beginning to show.

Chuckling Jungkook stretched out his arms as Mina mirrored him, passing her off as he replied, “Can’t help it, you know you were the one who taught her that.” Even at the tender age of one, Mina was used to you being with them most days now, and oftentimes not wanting to take no for an answer when you had to leave.

Rolling your eyes you picked up her backpack as you replied, “Well if someone didn’t insist I go home with him most days she wouldn’t have those expectations.” Jungkook puckered his lips, as if trying to keep the smile that kept tugging at his lips, sighing you could feel your own lips tug into a smile as you hummed, “If you’re ready I’m ready. I just need to clock out.”

You both stepped out of the room, bidding your friends goodbye who both sent you suggestive looks making you flush as you closed the gate. Going behind the counter you clocked out before heading out.

Days like these were more common than not, it worked out that you got off around the time Jungkook usually picked Mina up, give or take a few minutes and he was always happy for you to stay for dinner. You both had even taken up the habit of cooking together- well...it was more like Jungkook was teaching you how to cook. But he always made it fun to learn. Tonight was no exception as you both made...well attempted to make Bulgogi, had it not been for Jungkook the beef would have probably been a lot more chewy and less flavorful.

Cutting up little pieces you placed your chopsticks into Mina’s mouth as she happily chewed while bouncing, “The guys were wanting to come over later tonight,” Jungkook had been rambling about his day, “And since you don’t have class or work in the morning you could join us tonight…”

He wiggled his brows a little making you snort as you wiped off Mina’s mouth, “And watch you guys play Overwater? Pass.” He let out a whiny sigh as he slumped in his seat, looking an awful lot like Mina. You had already met Jungkook’s friends a plentiful of times before with everything that had happened and you got along with them great! But still...gaming night was a boys night.

“You could play with us,” Jungkook was quick to try and persuade you as you began eating, Mina playing with the leftover sauce on her plate as she kicked her legs, “You know how to play!”

You couldn’t stop the endearing smile on your face as you clacked your tongue, “Against you and all of them? No thanks.” It was true, Jungkook actually showed you the ropes but you weren’t a great player, you wouldn’t even dub yourself a good player. It was still fun but with all of his friends? Even harder pass.

Jungkook’s bottom lip jutted into a pout, his voice getting that tone he always had when he wasn’t getting his way, “We’ll be on the same team! It’ll be a lot of fun!” No matter how cute he looked he was just going to have to accept your answer.

You shook your head before letting out a laugh at his kicked puppy expression, standing up you cleaned off Mina’s fingers that had been covered in sauce and of course, her face was messy as well, though cute. Helping her out of her booster chair you glanced at Jungkook’s sulky expression, “...I guess I can stay, but don’t expect me to play.”

Jungkook practically flew out of his chair, hands cupping your cheeks as he rapidly pressed short little kisses on your lips, “Thank you baby.” You tried to push him away with a laugh but he wouldn’t relent as he pressed one last peck against your lips. It was just as well because Mina had wedged herself between both your and Jungkook’s legs, gurgles escaping her louder than normal as if to draw both of your attention to her.

“I know Mina,” You sighed as your lips tugged into a pout, as you leaned down and scooped her into your arms, “Boys are gross.” Jungkook laughed as he pressed kisses against Mina’s cheeks. She seemed to disagree as she happily bounced against your side, practically relishing in Jungkook and your attention both. Talk about a diva! Her expression made you smile as you tutted, brushing the strands of hair from her face. She really was just too cute for her own good.

The night had settled in and boys...well boys will be boys. It was cute seeing all of them huddled in the living room, you had even helped Jungkook prepare for their game night by setting out soju and various bags of chips and dip for them. You stayed on the floor for the first hour and a half, conversing with those who weren’t playing while coloring with Mina, who had been hyper focused on her picture before ever so often demanding Jungkook’s attention.

“I don’t know…” Jimin whined, sitting upside down on the couch, his hair flopped, nearly touching the ground which Mina took liberty in grabbing a fist full of happily while yanking it making Jimin yelp.

You could hear Seokjin and Yoongi smuggly snickering at him rubbing his scalp as he tugged his hair from Mina’s grip as you felt a laugh bubbling against your lip as well. Sitting on the floor upright, his plump lips twisting into a pout as he squished Mina’s cheeks, “That’s not very nice!”

Mina only giggled as she clapped her hands, ignoring his chastising arounds as you smiled, gently combing her soft hair from her eyes, “I think you should give her a chance, I know you bachelor's love your freedom,” You paused as you squinted to Yoongi who pretended he wasn’t listening as he watched Jungkook and Taehyung shout in desperation at the screen, “But even if you get a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean you have to settle right away. Relationships can be very rewarding. Right Jungkook?”

You snorted at Jungkook’s head perking a little at his name despite his eyes wide and his long fingers mashing the buttons on his controller, “Yes baby!” He growled the end of his word as his brows scrunched together, “Taehyung what the fuck!” Obviously dying he dropped his controller as he began to argue with his friend. Clearly not even fully listening to what you had said to begin with.

“Language! We have little ears!” Jungkook didn’t even acknowledge your scowl as he was preoccupied with arguing with Taehyung, sighing you couldn’t help but feel a smile tug on your face before glancing back at Jimin who shifted in his spot before groaning. Mina promptly crawled into his lap while bouncing, her signal for wanting to be bounced and thrown up in the air to be caught- Jimin’s speciality.

“Yeah but I’m not like Mr Romantic over there,” Jimin slumped against the foot of the couch, letting Mina tug at his hands as she furrowed her little brows in impatience, “I’ve never been interested in relationships. Besides, she probably doesn’t even care anyways.”

You could never mistake the mutter in his voice, his eyes brewing as if in some internal battle as you sighed, “You’ll never know if you don’t ask. That’s all I’m saying.” Jungkook’s friends were an interesting bunch, some married, others with kids. And of course the two bachelors Jimin and Yoongi.

The boys continued to rotate on who played Overwatch with one another and once they thought it was a good idea to bring the spare TV out and hook up an extra console you felt lost. Sighing as you grimaced while watching Taehyung and Seokjin look like two little boys with a new toy.

“Someone's definitely tired.” Jungkook leaned over on the couch, a soft smile on his face as you tilted your head before glancing down. Unable to stop your own smile, you hadn’t realized Mina was passed out on your lap, it was nearing eight o’clock and it was generally around her bedtime regardless.

“She had a busy day, you know she tries to kick other kids away from me anytime they ask for help?” A smile quirked on your lips as you and Jungkook both laughed. Letting out a sigh of contentment you curled up against Jungkook’s warm body, his controller still in hand as Jimin sat down on the couch on the other side of you as they resumed playing.

By the time it was nine o’clock though Mina was passed out on your lap and you were

admittedly getting tired yourself, “Hey, I’m gonna go lay down with Mina.” Jungkook barely nodded in your direction, his eyes still focused on the screen and his nose scrunched as he smashed buttons on the controller. It was still cute the way he leaned his cheek close to you as you softly pecked against it before shifting Mina in your arms as you bid the rest of the boys goodnight.

Trudging down the hallway softly you yawned as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room, gently closing it before setting her little figure down on the bed. You supposed if you were spending the night Jungkook would survive sharing his clothes given you hadn’t come prepared. Digging through his shirt draw you pulled out an oversized black shirt, this would do. Something you found cute was his love for oversized clothes, always saying he preferred to dress comfortably over fashionably.

Of course if it was big on him it was going to be massive on you, folding up your clothes you set them on the dresser before picking back up Mina, opening the bed covers before setting her down once more and crawling in bed. Mina’s blanket had been wrapped over her shoulder and she immediately curled in closer to you, letting out a cooed gurgle as her tiny fist tugged against Jungkook’s shirt you wore.

Letting out a tiny laugh you gently combed through her fine hair, god what did you do to deserve two beautiful, sweet people? The idea was scary at first, possibly becoming a mom to Mina, but after you had gotten over the initial fear you loved her more than anything in the world. You could only hope to live up to being the mom Mina deserved to have. Sleepily you turned out the lights before resting your hand against her little back, letting your eyes close before drifting off to sleep.

…

Groaning softly you shifted against the soft bed, the room was still dark and rain could be heard trickling gently against the rooftop. Reaching out for Mina’s missing figure you only found the hard surface of a chest instead, arms wrapped securely around you as you snuggled in close. Jungkook. He must have finally gone to bed, what time was it? “...Mmm Kook, Kook where’s Mina.” Your sleepy figure suddenly became a little more awake at the realization Mina was no longer with you.

Jungkook groaned a little, shifting against you as he pressed his nose into your neck, “Crib, didn’t want too at first, you both looked cute together.” His voice was deep and drowsy, still half asleep as he relaxed back into your body, “Some of the guys stayed over by the way.”

You shifted around to face him making a whine escape his lips, he had been spooning you before and was now forced to shift his own position a little so you could let your leg wrap over his hip and bury into his chest, “Mkay.” You yawned as you let your eyes drop closed again.

What a perfect way to wake up...and fall back asleep. Jungkook smelt like cinnamon and vanilla, the most generic lotion out there but you wouldn’t deny how soft his skin was because he loved to be ‘well moisturized’. He was constantly warm too, like a little miniature furnace that was perfect to cuddle when nights got too chilly, and of course he was strong, a lot of days he was smug in his showcase of it when he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The memory made you smile against his skin, you had been shouting while laughing for him to put you down but it ended up upsetting Mina, making her think something was going on between you both that wasn’t good.

You both ended up stopping just to sit down and coddle her, except she pushed her little hands against Jungkook’s shin, as if that was supposed to tell him off before waddling over to you, collapsing against your shoulder while hugging you. Jungkook looked so offended at her while you bursted out laughing.

Curling your arms around him you wiggled in closer, as many memories surrounded your mind. A low, raspy moan made you jump, pulling you out of your thoughts as a large hand suddenly grabbed your hip, “Am I supposed to ignore you doing that or…?” Jungkook mumbled against your skin making you furrow your brows, what…?

That’s when you felt it, the thick hardened length that rubbed against your inner thigh in need, this time making you jump even harder, mainly because you weren’t expecting...that to be there, “I...I didn’t realize…” You cleared your throat as you mumbled back, already beginning to feel your cheeks flush and your heart rapidly beat in your chest. Morning wood was normal! It was totally normal! It wasn’t like this was the first time you had experienced this, you had slept over at Jungkook’s before.

But he’d usually excuse himself to the shower and...presumably took care of himself. Oftentimes teasing you on if you wanted to join him, which you’d always decline. Today seemed different though, it was the first time you had stayed over this month, and while there was nothing special about this month. It was the first of many where you and Jungkook could simply be together stress free while taking care of Mina.

You jolted once more at the squeeze on your hip, Jungkook's lips parting against your neck making an involuntary whine escape you as his tongue dragged against it’s skin, “And now that you do…? You aren’t gonna make me keep using my hands, right?” You could feel his playful smile against your neck, grabbing your hips to shift them back against his hard on. Your face felt nearly as hot as your body that was flushed with arousal at the way he easily manhandled you.

But something struck you as you let out a breathy laugh, “Maybe, considering there's other people in the house right now…” You weren’t sure you really wanted to attempt this with him with others present, even if they were crashed out in the living room...well with anyone in the house, honestly...You were...rather loud in bed with the right people, and given you were wet just because Jungkook manhandled you slightly? You had a feeling he wasn’t just the right person but an amazing person, you didn’t want to subject anyone to that.

Jungkook groaned against your neck, his hips lazily grinding in your thigh making his cock rub along your warm skin as you bit against your lip, he was such a tease! “If we’re quiet it’ll be fine.” He was acting like this wouldn’t be your first time together!

You felt your face getting hotter by the second, “...I’m not exactly quiet..” You didn’t really want to openly admit that, but Jungkook needed to understand this wasn’t going to work. You weren’t opposed to helping him out. But you’d prefer to wait for yourself, you didn’t exactly trust yourself to ‘be quiet’.

“Oh really?” Now Jungkook was really horny, you could tell by his voice becoming huskier, his hands squeezing at your hips making you whine softly against his chest as he placed them against his, his thick imprint rubbing against your dampened panties, “Do tell.”

It was hard to stand your ground when he was practically dry humping you, his throbbing length rubbing so close to your clit it made your hands curl against his shoulders and your brows pressed together as stuttered, “Y-yeah, I...mmph! I moan a lot.” Your body felt like an inferno at your confession and your expression became meeker by the moment as you pressed your forehead against his chest, too embarrassed to even look at him.

You could hear his soft moan at your words though, your panties sticking to your wet folds and you were positive if he kept rubbing against you like this they’d be soaked soon, “Mmm why? What makes you moan hm? What makes that little cunt wet?”

You practically squeaked against him at the seeking thrust of his hips, his swollen imprint pressing into your clit with enough friction to make your hips buck back against his, “Mm! A-ah, Jungkook…!” You whined quietly against him at the way he grabbed your hips, roughly grinding his hips against yours as his cock rubbed harshly into your clit, your panties soaked and your fingers fumbling to find his hair in need.

A loud gurgled cry was all it took before the sexual tension and the way you both grinded each other like high schoolers was gone. Fumbling in bed you both sat up as Mina’s muffled cries became louder, “She probably needs a diaper change,” You murmured as you glanced at the clock, it was five AM but still a little too early for her to be up and toddling about.

Jungkook groaned as he flopped back in bed, looking mildly frustrated making you laugh. Your hands were a little shaky at the sight of the wet patch on his crotch from where you both grinded one another, “Don’t mind me and my hand over here.” He waved you off as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

Standing up you made your way for the door, “Jungkook don’t be dramatic, we’ll have sex eventually.” It was easy to say that when you were turned away from him and leaving the room where you didn’t have to see his messy daunting figure.

You could hear him groan as you laughed making him call out with a whine, “You make that sound a lot longer away then necessary.” You closed the door as you shook your head. It was going to happen, when the time was right. You didn’t know when that was but you weren’t going to rush it. It was fine.

Walking into Mina’s room she was standing up with fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she bounced at the sight of you. Reaching down you checked her diaper as you sighed, completely full, no wonder she was practically screeching, you thought it was odd that she didn’t need a change before you took her to bed.

Picking her up you pressed a kiss against her forehead before laying her down to change her diaper. Throwing the old one away in the trashcan before pulling her nighty back down, “Poor baby, I know it was gross. But it’s all better now baby.” You bounced her on your hip. The problem was getting her to go back to sleep. She was practically stuck to you like a koala now and refusing to let go.

Swaying your body you nuzzled her gently as you soothingly rubbed her back, getting her to calm down a little after ten minutes, reluctantly she let you go as you set her back down in her crib, her big doe eyes- the same as Jungkooks- looking back up at you as she whined. Chuckling you picked her stuffed bear from the ground before giving it to her. As if indignant she snatched it before coddling it against her as you gave her one last forehead kiss, she’d be up again in two hours, she’d survive.

Gently closing the door to Jungkook's room you turned around as your lips parted before scoffing, “You couldn’t wait ten minutes?” You curved a brow, feeling somewhat amused at the tissues in Jungkook’s hand, looking a little guilty before trying to casually play it off as he shrugged. But you weren’t dumb, he didn’t have a boner anymore, there were tissues in his hand and there was not a bottle of lotion on the nightstand before you left this room.

“I’m not a patient guy,” Jungkook turned and tossed the tissue in the trashcan before turning around, looking a little more predatorily making you leer a little as you crawled back into bed, “Y’know…you never did answer my question…” You raised a brow at him before yelping as he suddenly lunged back onto the bed, crawling on top of you as you squirmed, “What makes you moan?” Jungkook eagerly asked as you began laughing beneath him trying to push him off of you.

“Jungkook!” “I need to know if I’m going to make you cum until you pass out!” “Jungkook!”

You both were laughing now as he nudged the crook of your neck with his nose, rubbing it roughly as he growled playfully against your neck, “Entertain me baby, you love to dodge my questions whenever we’re texting.” It was the truth, Jungkook was...inquisitive about everything revolving around what you liked sexually. Did you like it slow? Rough? Were there any kinks you were into, did you prefer it vanilla? He wanted to know everything. But more times then less you’d usually find a way to curve his questions leaving him frustrated and wondering.

You knew most of what Jungkook was into by now, you knew he enjoyed being in control and dominating, you knew he had a thing for doggystyle and really liked spanking, he liked all kinds of things and he had zero problems letting you know that, but he was just as in the dark about what you liked as when you first started dating.

It wasn’t that you were playing hard to get, you were just simply shy and embarrassed, you didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, and the few people you were with you didn’t exactly experiment a lot with either. Sex, just wasn’t something you were used to talking about. Sometimes you felt stupid because of how giddy you got when Jungkook would bring up sex, as if it wasn’t something you had engaged in before, but you couldn’t help it, he excited you so much, he may not have known it but he frustarted you more then you ever did him.

“Come on, it’s not like either of us are going back to sleep,” Jungkook nipped against your neck making you jump as you whined, “You know how fucking insane you drive me? I can’t even properly masturbate without thinking about if it’s something you’d be into?”

You couldn’t stop the snort escaping you as you began to laugh, “Be into you masturbating?” “That’s not what I meant!” “Because I’m cool with it, I mean I masturbate too.”

“You do?” Jungkook pulled away from you to look at you, his expression so serious it really was cute, but his words made you groan as you covered your face, “You masturbate? To me right? Please say me or else I’m gonna lose my shit.”

You threw your hands up as you scoffed, “Of course I masturbate! It’s normal and healthy, I do have a libido! You know women have needs just like men.” What kind of question was that? You knew you were coy but did this man, who you called your boyfriend for four months, seriously assumed you just never got yourself off? What!?

“Oh you do?” Jungkook smirked as he jabbed your stomach playfully making you whine, “Wait- you didn’t answer my question, do you watch porn? What about toys? I’m not opposed to-”

“Jungkook!” You would melt into this goddamn bed if it got you out of this conversation, you weren’t even sure what it was, you trusted Jungkook wholeheartedly, this was bound to happen and being open and communicative with your partner was a good thing to have when it came to sexual preferences.

“What?” Jungkook whined as he dragged out the word, “You’ve given me nothing to work with, how am I supposed to be able to satisfy you if I don’t know what you like? Are you asexual…?” His eyes widened as if realizing that was a possibility, suddenly clearing his throat as he looked a little nervous, “Because that’s totally cool…! I don’t mind and I didn’t mean to-”

“Jungkook,” You cut him off as you pressed your hands to your face, “No I’m not asexual...I’m just...embarrassed.” You refused to look at him now, feeling your face become hot again as you forced yourself to swallow, “I already told you I haven’t been with a lot of people and….If I don’t know what I like how am I supposed to tell you that?”

Jungkook’s fingers soothingly ran through your hair, his expression soft as you finally looked back up at him timidly, the pads of his fingers tenderly rubbing against your scalp as a small smile curved on his lips, “Is that really been what’s troubling you this whole time?” You felt even more embarrassed now, “Come on, c’mere.” Jungkook sat down on the bed, holding on his arms for you.

A little unsure at first you hesitantly scooted over, only to whine as he pulled you into his lap as he leaned against the headboard, “You could have just told me that,” He chuckled against your hair before pressing a kiss against it, you brooded a little as you curled against him making him laugh again, “But it’s not like you’re a virgin, who cares if you haven’t been with a lot of people, I’m sure there’s somethings you like.”

You knew he was coaxing you now, a little more gently, as if not wanting to invalidate you just because you hadn’t been with a lot of people, shuffling in his grip to get more comfortable you let your head rest against his chest, “Well…” You nibbled against your lip, a sudden urge to giggle at the feeling of him holding his breath in anticipation, “...I like being bossed around...and manhandled.”

There it was, that giddy, girlish smile you kept trying to fight off as Jungkook continued to comb through your hair with his fingers granted his smirk that pressed against your head didn’t surpass you, “Okay, so you like being thrown around huh?” The way he said those words so casually made you swallow as you squeezed your thighs together, “Guess it’s a good thing I like manhandling things, right?” He purred against your ear making whine as you rubbed your face, he was turning you on again.

“...You know I think it would just be easier if you asked questions…” You mumbled against his skin as you felt your face flare up, you were at a loss of what to continue with. You were sure on any other occasion you could think up multiple things to say, but being in Jungkook’s lap right now was really messing with your head.

But you also knew Jungkook would jump on that opportunity at the speed of light, “Slow or rough?” You almost snorted at how fast he began his questioning.

“Both, I don’t mind either.” You snickered a little at the way he seemed so excited all of a sudden, Jungkook may have been a sweetheart but he seemed to thrive on having an active sex life. This poor man was probably dying to get his hands on you, literally.

“Sub or switch?” It felt like you were playing twenty questions now but Jungkook’s odd short clipped questions made it feel like you could be talking about anything other then sex, maybe that’s why he chose to approach it like this.

Bashful you sighed as you rolled your eyes, pushing away from him as you gave him a look, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips as he raised his brows, already knowing the answer that wasn’t hard to guess, “What if I told you I was into pegging?” You asked incredulously.

“Then I’d say let’s buy a strap and lube.” Jungkook replied, placing a hand on his chest as you snorted, covering your mouth that twisted into a smile as you began laughing, Jungkook joining you as you shook your head. He was certainly dedicated to you and you could appreciate that.

“Petnames? What about title kinks?” Jungkook decided to drop the last question, given your answer both of you knew what it was going to be, he just really loved watching you squirm.

You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping you as you covered your face, “Literally any petname, no title kinks.”

“What about positions?” Jungkook continued as he scooted a little closer, his eyes appeared a little dilated and lidded as he licked his lips, as if wanting a clear visual of your answer.

“Are you hoping I’ll say doggy?” You leered away a little, your eyes squinting into a playful glare and your lips threatening to twist into a smile once more.

Jungkook chuckled as he licked his lips again while leaning in, “Maybe, I still think you’d look out with your ass in my face and shoved against the bed being made to take it,” Your lips suddenly quivered and it was like your cunt was suddenly becoming flooded with arousal again, “You like that though, right? Getting pushed around,” A whine escaped you as Jungkook shoved you down against the bed, grabbing your arms that weakly attempted to push him as he pinned them above your head, “I think doggy would be perfect, I could play with that needy little clit while stuffing you full of cock, you wouldn’t even have to do anything baby,” Jungkook cooed as he sucked against your neck making you whine, your thighs were weak as your legs wrapped around his waist, “You could just lay there and whine like a good little girl and take it while I kept your hips up. What about a size kink? You like being told how little that fucking cunt would be taking my cock.”

Jungkook rubbed against you, his half hardened cock on display as if showing you. A whine escaped you again as you wiggled against him, his grip on your wrists tightening making your walls clench around nothing and arousal drip from your folds, “Definitely a size kink.” You whimpered pathetically making him laugh against your skin, suddenly letting go of you making you whine indignantly, was he really going to tease you like that and not doing anything about it?

Lovingly stroking your cheek with his hand he offered you a playful bunny smile, “Good news baby, we have plenty of time to explore.” He offered you a wink making you scowl as you looked away, rolling over so you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. How rude of him to work you up then leave you high and dry. A loud smack rang out and a yelp escaping you as his hand landed a blow on your exposed ass making you jump, “C’mon, lets go make breakfast.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Note: Blue Sping is coming to an end!! What a sweet journey! I know I said this lil mini series would only be four parts but with the way the scenes in the Oneshot went it’ll be better off as five! So that being said next weeks update will be the last! 🖤🖤🖤

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Birthday Confessions - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Reader (gender neutral) and Spencer are both secretly in love with each other. Reader is going to be alone for their birthday, so Spencer comes up with a plan to surprise them.

Word Count: 4k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: Kissing

Note: Written based on this request: “Spencer knows the reader doesn't have family near and celebrates it with her?” by @amofbebbanburg​. So sorry this literally took me forever.

The low rumble of the jet lulled you to sleep, your head falling to rest on Emily’s shoulder. Spencer sat across from you, his eyes fixated on the slight curve of your lips as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took, in tandem with the fluttering of his heart. The orange hue of his reading light dusted your cheeks, and the soft sounds you made resonated between his ears. He was so transfixed on your angelic, sleeping form, that he was unaware of the smirk plastered across Emily’s face as she watched him look at you. When he noticed her staring, he cleared his throat and abruptly returned his gaze back towards his book. Her light chuckle at his actions brought a harsh blush to his cheeks, only causing him to sink behind his book even further. 

“You know, you’re not being very subtle”, Emily teased, “(Y/n)’s going to catch on sooner or later”. Spencer felt his lungs constrict as panic coursed its way through his body.

“Wha-what do you mean?”, he confoundingly replied, having realized just how obvious he had been.

“Spencer”, she said with a knowing look, “We all know how you feel about (Y/n)-”

“Emily!”, he hissed. His eyes growing tenfold as he looked back at you to make sure you were still asleep. “They’re right there!”, he pleaded, turning his head to gesture towards your unconscious form.

“Relax”, she grinned. “They’re asleep, and trust me, (Y/n) can sleep through anything”, she said, rolling her eyes fondly. Spencer fought back a smile, trying to maintain his stoic composure, as he thought of how annoyed Emily would get on cases when your absurdly loud alarm would go off and not even wake you up. You would always joke that the point of your alarm wasn’t to wake yourself but to wake up Emily so that you could be woken up by the smiling face of your best friend. Emily would always glare at you in the mornings while on cases, and you would return the favor by laughing Oh hush, you love me, as the rest of the team shook their heads at your comical antics. 

Spencer bit his bottom lip as he thought about how he wouldn’t mind being woken up every morning to an air horn in his ear if it meant he got to wake up next to you. He would wake you up with gentle kisses across your face while holding you tightly to his chest. He would make sure to always have a huge smile on his face as he told you how much he loves you, just so you would start each day knowing how wonderful he thinks you are.

When the jet landed Emily gently shook her shoulder, causing you to groggily awake from your sleep. “Morning sleeping beauty”, she joked. You took in a deep breath, lifting your head and taking in your surroundings. It was dark, save for an amber halo peeking through Spencer’s deep curls. An inaudible gasp left your lips at the sight of him smiling down at you with his dark eyes that still managed to shine brighter than all the stars in the night sky. To quell the augmented flutter of your heart, you quickly turned away, hiding your flushed cheeks, before putting your head back down on Emily’s shoulder.

“Mmm, goodnight”, you sighed, closing your eyes as a smile crept its way to your lips.

“Nice try”, she laughed as she took her arm out from under you, placing a teasing pout across your face, “I’ve hit my sleeping (Y/n) quota for the week”. You reluctantly sat back up and were face to face with the man you had been hiding from. Your eyes met, and you lingered slightly too long looking at each other, completely unaware of Emily’s smirk.

“Right”, you cleared your throat, standing up. Spencer jolted his eyes back down to his book as he turned to place it in his satchel. You took this opportunity to make your way off the jet, not daring to look back at the man you were hopelessly in love with.

As you rode the elevator up to the sixth floor, you were hyper-aware of Spencer’s presence behind you. You kept sneaking glances at him, only to see he was looking at you each time you did. And each time you would both avert your eyes, just to look back a moment later.

After the team debriefed in the conference room, everyone went back to their respective desks to finish up some paperwork for the case before heading home. Luckily for you, this meant having to sit across from Spencer and using every fiber in your body to not look up at him. Spencer, however, couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He watched as you flipped through the files on your desk, and admired how you ran your fingers through your hair, a habit of yours when you were deep in thought. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you began to chew on your lip, and he couldn’t get the idea of kissing your tender, plump lips out of his mind. You were killing him. He couldn’t focus on his work, and all he wanted was to hear your voice, he needed to.

“So, are you doing anything for your birthday this weekend?”, Spencer inquired. Your head shot up from your desk, your mind having gone blank at his question. He furrowed his eyebrows at you, while his musky brown eyes searched your face. Spencer’s face fell as he slowly turned back to the open file on his desk, figuring he said something to make you uncomfortable. Your eyes were fixated on him, as his words, that hung in the awkward silence, finally caught up to you.

“Uh, h-how did you know it was my birthday?”, you questioned, genuinely confused. You had been at the BAU for seven months, after having transferred from the San Francisco office, and you were sure your birthday, of all things, had never been the topic of conversation. It’s not that you hated your birthday, but seeing as your family lived on the other side of the country, you felt silly celebrating it beyond a text from your mom. Truth be told, you had almost forgotten it was coming up with how hectic everything has been at your new job. It was a lot different than your previous job in California, which mostly consisted of doing paperwork at your desk. But, you couldn’t be happier than where you were: doing your dream job with people that were slowly becoming your family. Emily quickly became your best friend, and your crush on the very man sitting across from you formed not long after. So, imagine your surprise when he looked at you, through dark circles that framed glazed over eyes, hazy from sleepless nights during long cases, and asked you if you had any plans for your birthday.

“Oh, um, well”, he looked away from you and scratched the back of his neck as his plump lips formed a slight smile, “i-it was in your file from when you joined, and you know, eidetic memory”. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled innocently at you before staring back down at his desk.

“Right, of course”, you forced a smile as his head shot back up and nodded. “Well”, your face brightened in an attempt to break the palpable awkwardness that had formed between you two, “probably just going to spend it watching David Tennant on my tv while curled up on the couch with some ice cream.”

“What? For your birthday? You aren’t going out to celebrate?”, he questioned, appearing genuinely concerned.

“Well, normally I would, but drinking at a bar alone doesn’t scream ‘Happy Birthday’, you know”, you chuckled.

“You should at least have cake, everyone should get to have cake on their birthday. Actually, birthday cakes date back to ancient Rome, where people would have cakes made out of flour, nuts, yeast, and honey. However, birthday cakes became popularized in the 15th century in Germany when bakeries began making one layered cakes for people to buy to celebrate birthdays”, he said as he raised his eyebrows while his lips formed a thin smile. You couldn’t help but look at him with complete adoration as he rambled. “But, um, you aren’t even doing anything with Emily or Garcia?”, he hesitantly questioned. Your lips pressed together as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Emily treated me to lunch earlier in the week because she has plans this weekend”, you reassured him and he nodded, “Plus, it’s the first year I won’t be with my parents and I just miss them so I don’t really feel like celebrating alone”, He gave you a sympathetic smile as you shrugged. “But, I promise I’ll at least get cake batter ice cream”, you smiled while winking, eliciting a laugh from him.

“Okay good”, he said, smiling back. His warm chuckles still reverberated throughout your chest, swirling around your heart. Once again you found yourself frozen, knowing you should turn away, but not finding an ounce of strength to do so as you both just gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Well uh, goodnight”, you said, forcing yourself to look down to grab your bag and head towards the elevator. Your stomach clenched as you kept your gaze ahead, not daring to look back at him. Spencer, however, couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you left. His eyes caressed each of your curves as you walked further and further away from him. He bit his bottom lip, smiling to himself as he watched you leave. 

“Goodnight”, he murmured to an empty room with an obnoxious smile plastered on his face. 

You woke up the next morning, the sun glaring in through your blinds. You turned over in your white, crinkled sheets, shutting your eyes in an effort to avoid the intruding rays. The ding of your phone pierced the quiet room as you sighed and rolled back over to check your phone. You groaned as you squinted at the screen, the harsh light it emitted illuminating your face. 

From Derek: Hey sweet cheeks, sorry to bother you on our day off, but Hotch called a meeting. He said it’s urgent. 

Great, you thought, Happy Birthday to me. You forced yourself out of bed and wasted no time getting ready before heading over to the BAU. You grabbed a granola bar on your way out, rolling your eyes, dreading having to spend your birthday working instead of sleeping all day. 

When you walked into an empty bullpen, you were even more confused. You got out your phone, ready to text Morgan, but you got a text from Garcia.

From Penelope: Good morning and happy happy birthday my sweet sweet (Y/n). Everyone is in the conference room! :)

When you opened the door to the conference room, instead of seeing grotesque crime scene photos of victims, you found the whole team there, each sporting a very cliché party hat. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as everyone shouted Happy Birthday! You made your rounds hugging and thanking everyone, however, you couldn’t help but notice that someone was missing. 

“Hey, Pen, where’s Spence?”, you asked as everyone else was distracted in conversations.

“Oh, he um, he had something to do today, so he couldn’t make it”, she said sympathetically, noticing that the smile you were trying to force was gradually falling.

“Oh okay”, you said, looking around trying to appear happy. 

“But um”, she said, turning to Derek, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head before stepping out of the room, “he gave us very special instructions on what to do”, she reassured. Your heart fluttered at her words, knowing that Spencer did this for you. Just as you were about to ask her what he said, the lights turned off. Derek came in holding a cake adorned with candles as everyone sang “Happy Birthday”. When he held the cake in front of you, you read what it said: Outside those doors, we might see anything. We could find new worlds, terrifying monsters, impossible things. And if you come with me… nothing will ever be the same again! Happy Birthday (Y/n)! You felt a tear slip down your cheek as you blew out the candles. The tenth doctor was drawn on the cake and you couldn’t stop rereading the quote of his that was written on top. You smiled back up at your team and thanked them for such an amazing birthday.

Despite the love and appreciation you felt from the rest of the team, you couldn’t help but spend the rest of the party overthinking, hiding it behind a façade. You didn’t want to read too much into the quote, but Spencer, who could probably, no definitely, recite every line from Doctor Who, had chosen this one for your birthday cake. You desperately wanted it to mean something, but if he hadn’t even shown up to your party, clearly you weren’t that important to him. When everyone had finished eating, you thanked them again and gave your hugs goodbye. You drove home and blasted your music, loudly singing along, in hopes of drowning out the thoughts of Spencer that swarmed your head.

When you reached your door, there was nothing you wanted more than to put on your sweats and sink into your couch. You slid your key into the deadbolt and pushed open the door. Expecting to walk into your desolate apartment, tears were brought to your eyes at what you found when you walked in. The lights were off and the windows had trash bags taped over them to prevent any sun from breaking the barrier and entering your apartment. You looked all around and were met with string lights adorning your ceiling as if there were a thousand glass stars littering your apartment. A projector sat on the floor near the entryway, projecting galaxies that were currently orbiting around the room. The twinkling lights drew your gaze onto the figure standing in the middle of the dimly lit room. You couldn’t make out his face, but you could tell who it was by the way his dark curls were illuminated by the intertwining auburn and cream-colored swirls of Jupiter that spun around him. 

“Spence…”, you whispered, his name slipping out as you felt yourself being pulled towards him. You had missed him so much today, and at the sight of him, you couldn’t contain the relief that washed over you. You placed your hands on his arms, the soft fabric of his pinstriped suit felt so right under your light grasp. You looked down at his converse, laughing as you realized he was dressed as the tenth Doctor. Looking up at him and meeting his gaze, you suddenly realized how close you two were and that you were practically holding him in your arms. “This is amazing”, you chocked out as you quickly pulled away, wiping the tear that rolled down your cheek as you sheepishly smiled. 

“That’s Doctor to you”, he teased, matching your smile tenfold. 

“Sorry”, you laughed, “this is amazing, Doctor.” You looked around your apartment again, still stunned at how captivating it was. “Um, how did you do all this?”, you asked amazed.

“W-well, you mentioned you were going to spend your birthday watching David Tennant on your television, and I figured having the Doctor in person would be an even better way to spend your birthday… And then I figured what kind of Doctor would I be if I didn’t show you outer space”. You opened your mouth but were swiftly cut off by him, “And, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with everyone, but, I had to get you out of here and I thought you would enjoy spending some time with the team. Oh!”, he abruptly interjected, “did you um, get your cake?”, he timidly asked with a sheepish smile.

“Yes, I-I did. It was delicious by the way”, he nodded, “I missed you, but thank you for the party”, you said, just above a whisper, “but um, this, is amazing. I-It’s beautiful, Spence”, you smiled, admiring all the twinkling lights and planets that orbited the two of you, “really. Thank you”, you said, finally looking into his eyes that bore into you. 

“You are beautiful”, he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. You were speechless. Your mouth opened a few times as you struggled to find a response. “I just thought you should know”, he added after your prolonged silence. 

“The quote, on the cake. Did you um…”, you broke the silence between you two looking up at him expectantly.

“Yeah um”, he scratched the back of his neck as he smiled to the ground, “I uh, that line always makes me think of you”, your eyes widened at his words, “At work, we come across the most ‘terrifying monsters’, but, when I’m with you, I feel safe and when I look at you, I’m reminded that there are still amazing, beautiful things in the world, because, I-I think”, he cleared his throat, trying to hold back tears, “Because you are beautiful and amazing, and I am so lucky to have you in my life”. You were stunned. Your heart was beating so fast you feared he could hear it. Your silence, however, scared Spencer, because he didn’t want to lose you just because he had decided to spill his heart to you after breaking into your apartment. “I thought we could watch Doctor Who together”, he paused, still looking for any hint of a reaction from you, “but if not, I can just go. I didn’t mean to barge in like this and-”, he was cut off as you flung yourself into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he latched onto you, breathing a sigh of relief.

“No! Um, that, that sounds amazing”, you whispered into his neck. “I’d love nothing more than to be th-the Doctor’s companion”, you said, smiling against his soft skin.

“Good”, he laughed, “that’s, that’s very good”. You lifted your head off his shoulder, just enough to look into his eyes. Your smile slowly dropped as you moved in closer to his mouth, lightly brushing your lips against his. His eyes fluttered shut as you spoke against his mouth.

“But, as much as I love the Doctor, I would much rather be with my favorite doctor,” you smiled against his lips as you looked up, searching his eyes. 

“I think that can be arranged”, Spencer mumbled against your lips, opening his eyes as your noses brushed up against each other. You looked into his velvet eyes and swore you could see the entire universe in them as they reflected the warm glow of every star hanging above your head. You moved in closer, finally connecting your lips. Warmth rose within you, radiating out through your chest as his lips moved against yours. His arms moved up and down your back, mapping every curve of your body as if he were drawing constellations onto your flushed skin. Your fingertips ran across his supple skin as you cupped his cheek, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip and you gladly opened your mouth, granting him more access. With every breath you took, you inhaled him in even deeper, getting high off the notes of cinnamon and coffee that flooded your senses. He pulled you impossibly closer, pushing you flush against his chest, and the moan you elicited only intensified his grip. Your thighs clenched and your knees felt week as he began to kiss along your jaw. The warmth of his mouth trailing its way down your neck, caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “So beautiful”, he murmured against your sensitive skin, saying it to himself more than anything else. Each kiss caused a string of electricity to shoot throughout your system, as you ran your fingers through his deep curls, tugging lightly. His kisses gradually became less intense, and your breathing began to even out. He gave a final peck to your neck and then to your cheek and finally your lips, before leaning back to look you in the eyes. “Happy Birthday”, he said smiling at you, while his eyes gleamed with adoration.

“Thank you”, you replied, your brain still fuzzy from the kiss you two just shared, “for, um, everything.”

“Of course”, he smiled, still holding your gaze, “So um, do you want to watch Doctor Who…”.

“Yeah, yes”, you nodded, finally getting some grip back on reality. You walked over to the couch, Spencer’s hand still laced in yours. You sat down first and Spencer sat next to you, still grasping onto your hand as if you would disappear if he let go. You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both relaxed into the couch. As you were getting Doctor Who set up on the tv, Spencer took your hand into both of his and ran his fingers over your knuckles.

“I know I’m no David Tennant”, he said, causing you to turn and look up him, “but um, I-I just wanted to be clear that I, I like you, a lot”. 

“I like you too Spence”, you smiled, “a lot”, you teased. “And, Dr. Spencer Reid is way better than any other Doctor in my book”, you kissed him on the cheek, causing him to blush.

“Really?”, he asked, biting his lip.

“Really”, you reassured him.

“Even Matt Smith?”, he joked.

“Oooh I don’t know about that”, you said coyly, raising your eyebrows. Despite your joking manner, Spencer’s face still fell.

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah, he’s um-”, he rambled, looking down at his shoes.

“Spence”, you stopped him and put your hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at you, “I was just joking”, you said earnestly, making sure he understood. You searched his eyes as he slowly nodded. “When I said I like you, I meant I really like you, and only you, okay?”, he nodded again but remained silent, “I’ve kind of had a crush on you since my second day at the BAU”, you said smiling as a blush found its way to your cheeks, “and there is no one I would rather be with than you”. Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your angelic voice echoed in his head as he pulled you towards his chest, enveloping you in a hug.

“You are the only person I want to be with too”, he said, pulling back so he could see your beautiful face. “And I’ve liked you since your first day at the BAU”, he smiled, crinkling his eyes. You let out a breathy laugh as you gave him a quick peck before snuggling back into him on the couch.

“Always have to one-up me, don’t you doctor”, you teased, and this time he laughed as he pulled you in closer to him, running his fingers along the side of your hip. As the episode began, you turned up to him again and pondered, “Speaking of one-upping, you took me to outer space on our first date, so I am very excited to see what you plan to do for our second”. You both giggled as he kissed the top of your head. 

Finally feeling confident after your many reassurances, Spencer quipped back, “Someone’s eager, and who said anything about a date?”, he smiled, “this is just a birthday present”. You feigned being hurt by his words as you laughed.

“Dr. Spencer Reid”, you shook your head, “I told you, I’m your companion”, you smirked, causing him to laugh, “you are stuck with me”.

“Good”, he said, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled, “Because I am never letting you go”. He looked into your eyes as the Doctor Who theme song played in the background and you both smiled like idiots. You turned your attention back to the tv and held onto each other for the rest of the night. You fell asleep in each other’s arms as the stars twinkled above your heads and you spun in orbit with the planets that danced throughout the apartment.

[svu-ncis-criminalminds]

Almost Lost You

Request : Can you write something the the reader is young maybe early to mid 20s and she’s new to the BAU. Hotch is subtly protective over her but she gets shot and has like a near death experience but she ends up making it. In the end Hotch ends up telling her the feelings he has for her.

Your First Day

You sat in the chair across from your new boss, trying not to squirm under his intense gaze, you could tell everything about this man was intense, and while you weren’t a nervous person. He made you nervous. 

“Degrees in psychology and criminal justice. Top marks in the behavioral analysis program. Says here you specialize in interrogation?” You felt like you were in one right now, but on the other side of the table.

“Yes sir.” You answered, hands twitching as they itched to play with the hem of your shirt. For the first time since you entered the building you saw his mouth twitch into almost a smile. Almost. 

“You don’t need to call me sir, Hotch will do.” You nodded. 

“Why interrogation?” He asked curiously. He was trying to picture the young girl in front of him sitting across from some of the most dangerous killers in the world. You didn’t exactly look intimidating. He watched the passion on your face, as the obvious nervousness passed. 

“It’s the most interesting part, in my opinion. Getting people to confess. Some of them want to, some of them don’t. It’s like a puzzle. You need to know them, get into their head. Do you need to be their friend? Their enemy? Do they need to lead the conversation. I know I’m not always the one for the job, sometimes they don’t want to talk to a woman. But I know who they will talk to. Well, usually, obviously there are outliers. Sorry, I’m rambling.” You flushed. 

“You aren’t. I asked a question, you gave me an answer.” You nodded. Hotch looked you over before nodding, mostly to himself. He took a file from his desk and handed it to you. “Here. We leave in 30. The rest of the team can catch you up to speed and we can talk more on the plane.” You took the folder and opened it, briefly reading it before nodding again. 

“Yes sir.” Hotch almost smiled again at that but nodded in return, watching as you got up and left his office. 

A Few Months Later

“Human decomposition begins a mere few minutes after death with a process called autolysis, or self digestion. Soon after the heart stops beating, cells in the body begin to accumulate toxic by-products as a result of oxygen deprivation. Enzymes start to digest cell membranes and then leak out as the cells break down. Then-” 

“Reid, we’re eating.” Morgan complained. 

“So? We see decomposition everyday all day, and yet you manage to always be eating.” Prentiss snorted into her sandwich and you put your own food down, pushing it away. Morgan pointed to your mostly eaten burger. 

“Gonna finish?” He asked, proving Reid’s point. You rolled your eyes fondly. 

“Nah, all yours.” Morgan grabbed the food from your plate and put it on his. Hotch came from where he had been talking to Rossi and sat across from the four of you on the jet. You smiled over at him and he returned it slightly. You were returning from a hard case, one that hit close to home for you on almost all levels. He was probably waiting for you to break down. He’d been hovering over you since the start. You’d never say it to his face but in your mind Hotch was the mother hen of your misfit team. Always worrying about someone. Little did you know, it was mostly you he worried about. 

“Alright?” He asked, everyone around you averted their eyes. You blinked and smiled again, nodding. 

“Peachy, Reid ruined lunch. Again.” You tried to tease, you wished everyone would just knock it off. 

“Hey!” Reid looked over at you, “It wasn’t ruined!” You smiled and nodded before looking back over at your boss, eyes locking with his. 

“I’m fine.” You promised, hoping he got the message. 

Apparently he didn’t, because when you landed he offered to give you a ride home, and didn’t pull away from your curb until you sent a text that you were safely inside. It was sweet of him to care, you thought to yourself as you texted Hotch. 

A Year Later

You held your hands up and tried to be as calm as you could, smiling at the young man who was currently waving a gun in your general direction. He was having a psychotic break, you were sure of it. 

“It’s alright.” You promised him, “We aren’t here to hurt you.” 

“They’re here they sent you they sent you to kill me, I’m going to kill you first!” You shook your head, Prentiss was beside you, gun still raised. You had yours down, as you stepped forward slightly. 

“We’re not here to kill you, we just want to talk to you. No guns, just talking.” The boy, god he was only a boy, maybe 18 or 19. He waved the gun towards Prentiss and you tried not to wince. You had to be calm. 

“She’s got a gun!!” He fired off a shot and you jumped back, but the bullet just went into a nearby wall. Too nearby. 

“She’s putting the gun down,”

“Y/N.” Prentiss replied. In the second it took you to turn to look at your partner a loud bang when off, and you felt searing pain all throughout your body. Before you even hit the ground there was a second loud bang and the boy fell into a pile in front of you.

“No!” He was just a boy, “No..” You saw Prentiss above you, and you could see her lips moving but the sound of blood pounding in your ears was too loud for you to make out words. A second person arrived and you felt pressure on your abdomend. Hotch’s face was the last thing you saw, worried and panicked, before you blacked out. 

Hotch was cupping your face in his hands, one finger on your pulse point while Prentiss continued to press on the wound. 

“A bus is on the way.” Morgan confined, “Can I do anything?” 

“Wait outside, make sure they get in here as quickly as possible.” Hotch ordered, feeling your pulse growing thready and faint below him. 

“She’s going to be alright.” Prentiss assured her own worry written all over her face. There was too much blood for Hotch to be confronted. He continued to cup you cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek bone. 

“She better be.” He said, then in a whisper, “You better be, Y/N, if you can hear me that’s an order. You better be okay. Please, you need to be okay.” 

One Week Later

Your eyes fluttered open and everything was entirely too bright. 

“Close the curtains,” Were the first words out of your mouth, and they came out in a hoarse grumble. 

“Y/N!” Your boss’s voice came from beside you and suddenly he was right in front of you, eyes big and soft. He was in a t-shirt and plain jeans, it felt weird seeing him so casual. 

“Where am I?” You asked, trying to sit yourself up, but a gentle hand on your shoulder pushed out back against the bed. 

“Don’t move, you’ll pull out our stitches.” 

“Stitches?” You asked, looking around, “I’m in the hospital?” Hotch nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as he rubbed gentle circles. It was coming back to you now. The case, the boy, the gun. The boy.

“Is he alright? The kid who shot me?” You asked and Hotch’s face stoned up. He looked away from you and you knew the answer. Your head fell back onto the mattress as you stared up at the ceiling. “He was just a kid.” 

“He nearly killed you.” Hotch’s voice was firm.

“I’m fine,” 

“No Y/N.” Hotch moved so you were looking at him again, holding you gaze with intense eyes. “You almost died. Touch and go. Surgery. Intensive care. We couldn’t even get you transferred to DC, we’re still in Florida.” 

“Where is everyone?” 

“They were here, but another case popped up. They had to leave.” You watched him. 

“Without you?” Hotch smiled, his hand still on your shoulder finally moved, only to clasp around your hand, holding it tightly. 

“I wasn’t going to let you wake up alone.” You smiled slightly and nodded, squeezing his hand back. 

“Thank you.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Hm?” You asked. Hotch’s free hand came up to move some hair from your face. 

“Don't you ever. Ever. Do that to me again.” You smirked slightly. 

“No promises.” Hotch frowned deeply. 

“I’m serious. I cannot lose you Y/N… I- I care too deeply for you.” You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure what it is he was trying to say to you. 

“Hotch... “ He lifted your clasped hands and kissed the back of yours. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered and you felt your heart almost stop for the second time that week. You squeezed his hand back and nodded your head. 

“I love you too Aaron.”

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

-

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

-

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

-

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

-

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

-

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

-

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

-

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

“N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

-

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 2 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // main page // next chapter

Summary: After the conversation in Nebraska, there’s some tension between our favorite genius and Reader. A peace offering, a rainstorm, and some unexpected questions should clear that right up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature (not all chapters contain smut, those that do will be marked)

Category: Smut, fluff, and a bit of angst.

Word Count: 2.3k for Chapter 2 

Content Warning: Some slight angst for Chapter 2

A/n: I hope y’all are liking this so far! No smut in this chapter, but I more than make up for it in chapter 3. Promise. 

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTE: It was brought to my attention that the angst in this chapter appears to be something it is not. I mean, I know how the story ends, so I didn’t see it that way. But it’s a valid concern. I address it in chapter 6, but I’ve made edits to chapter 3 to address it a bit too. Reader is afraid to trust anyone, that is all. I promise. 

y/n = your name

y/l/n = your last name

italicized text are Reader’s inner thoughts.

-- Chapter 2: I fucking beg your goddamn pardon? --

Once we pinned down the gender of the unsub, it wasn’t hard to help the locals close the case. Anna Marie Wilcox, 29. A pretty blonde girl with haunted eyes, betrayed by every man in her life. She just wanted to take her power back.

Cool motive; still murder.

The flight back to Quantico was quiet. Hotch spoke with Rossi before take-off, telling us that he was flying back from San Francisco after visiting his daughter and grandson and that he would see us on Monday. After that, everyone seemed to slip into their own world. This wasn't uncommon. After working day and night to save lives, digging your way into the darkest corners of a murderer’s mind, you needed to decompress a bit.

JJ was asleep in the back of the cabin, Emily sitting beside her while she reviewed some files. Hotch was writing at the small table, Morgan sitting opposite him, eyes closed while he listened to whatever played through his headphones.

And I was on the couch with Dr. Spencer Reid. I was very surprised when he boarded the jet and made a beeline towards where I was sitting without hesitation. He hadn't spoken to me or even looked at me for longer than 5 seconds since our talk at the precinct. I could tell my blunt words had an effect on him, which wasn't surprising to me. I tried not to stereotype people, I knew better than anyone else how wrong those stereotypes could be; but, if I ever had to guess a person I thought would be a submissive, I’d guess Spencer Reid.

My back was angled on the couch, pressing into the corner where the armrest met the backrest, my legs crossed in front of me. I had my phone in my head, swiping mindlessly on a puzzle game that didn't require any cell phone signal to play. I always found myself doing that after a case, it calmed me.

Dr. Reid was pretending to read.

He’s not even being convincing, I thought, trying to keep my face neutral. You read 20,000 words a minute, baby. You’ve been staring at that page for 5 minutes. Unable to resist, I shifted in my seat. I slowly uncrossed my legs, the small slit in the side of my skirt becoming visible at the movement.

Did I wear this skirt on purpose? Yes, yes, I did.

I let out a soft sigh before re-crossing my legs. I watched him out of the corner of my eye the entire time. His eyes followed my movements, his breath hitching slightly. He moved his gaze up my body until he got to my eyes, which he was surprised to find were on him. He cleared his throat before going back to his book, little splotches of red on his cheeks.

I smirked. All you have to do is ask, Dr. Reid.

--

Nothing happened until Thursday the following week. I had all but given up hope that Spencer Reid would finally cave and come to me. Shame, I thought. He would look so pretty when he begged.

The unit's caseload had been lighter than normal, with no cases that required us to travel. We did some consulting and wrote up some preliminary profiles for the law enforcement agencies that asked for our help. We had been traveling so much over the past few months, I think Hotch was just trying to give us a break.

A loud clap of thunder broke the silence of the bullpen. Then it seemed as if the sky opened up a second later, the heavy rain falling like a curtain outside the windows.

“That’s dramatic,” Emily Prentiss commented.

Morgan made a sound of agreement before turning his head to look at Reid. “Have fun walking to the train station in that, pretty boy.” His face split into a smile as Spencer shot him a glare. JJ, Emily, and I all laughed at their exchange. His eyes didn’t go to JJ or Emily though, those caramel brown eyes swung in my direction.

At the end of the workday, Garcia was the first out the door. She walked past the bullpen and gave a big wave. “Goodbye, my darlings. I will see you in the morning…unless there is a terrible murder!”

The team smiled and returned her goodbye. Derek was out of his seat in a flash, trailing after her. I couldn’t help but wonder about the two of them sometimes.

“Bye Spence,” I heard JJ say as she passed the boy wonder’s desk. “Try not to drown out there.” Emily laughed as she walked up beside JJ, standing just a little too close. I wondered about them too, if I’m honest.

When it was just me and the object of my attention left, I got my bag and approached his desk. “Hey, Doc.”

He didn’t look up, making it seem like putting files and papers into his messenger bag required his full attention. “Hi, y/l/n.”

Well, this wouldn’t do at all. “It’s still pouring outside. Do you need a ride? I’d hate for you to have to walk a block in this storm.”

“I’ll manage,” he muttered, still not meeting my eyes.

I let out a sigh. “Spencer.” His eyes finally raised to meet mine. “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line in Nebraska. It was unprofessional. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I continued. “I hope that we can move past this, I really miss my friend.”

He took a moment to adjust his glasses. He never wore them anymore, and I have to admit that my heart sputtered a bit when I saw him in them this morning. “We were friends before?” He chuckled slightly, earning a smile for me. I’d only been with the BAU for 7 months, and while I was friendly with my co-workers, Spencer and I had never had a particularly close bond.

“I like to think so,” was my reply, giving him a small smile. “And if we weren’t before, I hope we can be one day.” With one final look in those eyes, I turned. “Have a good night, Doc.”

I was halfway to the elevators when I heard him. “Y/n!” I turned to see him hurrying towards me. He smiled at me; and it was his real smile, not the polite smile he gave others. It was a full-blown smile that lit his whole face up. My stomach fluttered. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually like a ride. If you’re still willing?”

Still so nervous, even now. “Of course, pretty boy,” Morgan’s nickname for him slipping from my lips without a thought. “Follow me.”

It wasn’t the thing I had been hoping all week that he’d ask me, but it was a start.

--

The drive to Spencer’s apartment took longer than it should have. I was driving slower because of the storm; I was also driving slower because other drivers weren’t driving slowly.

"This type of rain is so heavy it cuts the visibility more than the average storm," the good doctor said. "Under normal precipitation, it's advised that you reduce your speed by at least 10 miles to account for less traction."

“Huh,” I responded, glancing down at my speedometer.

He cleared his throat. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

I risked a quick glance at him to see him shifting in his seat. “Do what, Doc?”

“Ramble,” Spencer said softly. “I ramble when I’m nervous, and I’m trying really hard not to be nervous.”

My heart ached for him in that moment. This brilliant, brilliant, man, the smartest and kindest person in any room, was nervous about talking to me. My right hand lifted from the steering wheel before I could think better of it, touching his arm lightly. “Please don’t be nervous around me, Spencer.” His whole body stiffened at my touch. “Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like to be touch.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I just keep fucking this up, don’t I?” My chuckle was sad, and a little bit bitter.

“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I was just surprised. I don’t…I don’t mind if you touch me.”

I didn’t try to hide the shock on my face. “You don’t, huh?”

I swear I could almost hear the blush in his voice. “I d-didn’t mean it like t-.”

“Spence,” I cut him off. “I know. I was just teasing.”

He let out a small chuckle at that. "Oh. Right." There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "You know, you've never called me Spence before." I simply nodded in agreement. He was right, I hadn't. I hadn't even meant to do it then. He continued on. “Actually, you only call me Spencer when the conversation is serious. Other than that it’s always Doc…or occasionally Reid.” The chuckle that left him put a smile on my face.

“You’re right, Doc.” I glanced over at him and smiled. “Tell you what, I don’t want you to be nervous around me. At all. So, I’m giving you blanket consent right now.” I really hoped I knew what I was doing. “You can ask me any question you want. You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you.”

“…Really?” He sounded almost like he was in awe.

I nodded. “Yes, really. The thought of making you nervous makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel that way in front of me.” My voice was soft, reassuring. Maybe it was the soft dom in me that recognized his submissive, but I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to feel safe.

Spencer Reid took a deep breath before he spoke again. He acted like it was no big deal, but the words he said afterward gave me a mild heart attack. "Okay, can you tell me about your BDSM experiences?"

I fucking beg your goddamn pardon?

I sputtered a bit. “…Seriously?” My eyes were wide, I didn’t risk looking at him.

“W-well,” he sounded unsure now. “You said I could ask you anything.”

“You can! You absolutely can!” I heard him let out a breath. “I’m just…surprised that’s what you went with. That’s all. But…I don’t mind telling you if you really want to know.”

“I do,” he whispered.

I smiled over at him. “Okay, Doc. What do you wanna know?”

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Maybe just walk me through what you like to do. Or what you usually do. Or how you got into it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s all?” I shook my head. “Alright. I was 21 when I first got into it. I had a…he wasn’t really my boyfriend. I guess you can say a friend with benefits.” I saw him nod his head in understanding. “And one day he asked me if I knew anything about BDSM. At that time, I only knew misconceptions and rumors; which is why I told him I wasn’t interested. The thought of someone tying me down and doing whatever they wanted to me sounded terrifying. But he clarified that he thought I would enjoy being a dominant. We tried it out a few times…and I liked it.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “So…is that the only kind of sex you have?”

I pondered over how to answer him. “That’s…a complicated question. I’m not not answering. I think I should just explain a bit more first." He made a noise of affirmation before I continued on. "What I do during a scene sort of depends on my submissive. Before anything happens, we have to have a really in-depth conversation, discussing hard and soft limits, punishments, expectations, and things like that." I glanced over, confirming I hadn't lost him. "Like I mentioned, I'm a soft dom. But, I usually can bend to what my submissive likes, as long as I’m comfortable.”

“So, what would you do? If you got to pick everything?”

You keep on surprising me, Doctor, I thought.

“Well, I like bondage, choking, degradation, but only if it’s light and done right.” I don’t know why I felt the need to explain that. “Then I’m fine with oral sex, praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, and pegging.”

Spencer was quiet. “A-and pegging is the…”

“What the unsub was doing to her victims? Yes, Spencer.”

“…Oh,” was all the boy genius said.

I continued on, trying to provide context. “I usually like to build up the relationship a bit before I bust out a strap on, though.” I worked hard to keep my voice even. “I’ll use toys on him first, usually.”

“You didn’t say sex.”

Shit. "Beg pardon?" I asked like I was clueless about what he meant.  

Dr. Reid’s voice was firm; it was the voice he used on cases, the steady voice that explained concepts that anyone else would miss. “You said oral sex. You said you’d…you’d…do that-“

“Oh, for God’s sake, Doc,” I interrupted with a laugh. “We’re less than 3 minutes from your apartment and we’re having a conversation about BDSM. You can say fuck.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “You said you fuck them. But you never said you’d let them fuck you.”

Fucking profilers. “Yes, that’s right. That’s why it was so hard for me to answer your earlier question. I don’t have traditional sex with my submissives.”

His voice was confused when he asked, “But why?”

I clicked my tongue. “That, my darling, is a conversation I avoid at all costs. And we’re at your apartment.”

Spencer glanced around, surprised we’d arrived already, despite how long the drive took in the rain. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. I was already formulating my answer when he said, “Y/n…would you want to come up to my apartment? So we could keep talking?”

“Sure, Spence. If that’s what you want.”

--

message/comment to be added to the series tag list! thank you for reading :)

[unholyobsessions]

Welcome to my dorm Pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer surprises you one weekend and you finally have your first date.

Warnings: Heated makeout/Implied sex, Mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 3.5

Part 1 -- Part 3 -- Part 4

Ever since the BAU closed Hayley’s case both you and Spencer had been calling and texting non-stop. You, however, weren’t sure how to label your relationship with the genius. You couldn’t deny your feelings for him. The butterflies in your stomach whenever phone dings with a text from him. The smile ever so present on your face whenever you talked to him. The longing you felt whenever you hung up the phone and the worry that takes over your whole body when he is on a case. You hadn’t even had your first official date since he kept getting called away and you weren’t even completely sure that dating you was his intention.

It was one hundred percent his intention to date you. You hadn’t voiced your doubts to him but he senses your hesitance whenever you brought up the topic of him visiting. When the team arrived at Quantico after a hard case one late Friday evening, Hotch announced that they should all take the weekend off, and just make sure to have their consults done by Tuesday. Spencer was quick to pick up the files from his desk and shove them inside his worn out messenger bag. He muttered goodbye to his co-workers before speed walking to the elevator. He fumbled for his car keys and hurried out of the building toward his car. Once inside he didn’t even think about texting you before making the drive to your university because it had already been a month since you first met and he wanted to see you and make your relationship official. An hour and a half later he parked his car by your dorm, checking the time on his watch. 9:30 . . .

You were on your shift at the bar. It was packed as it always was on Friday night. You glanced around at the drunk college students and let out a small laugh. You stood in front of Haley who was at the bar for the first time since her kidnapping. You were strongly against her being here but according to her therapist she had to go back eventually to fully deal with what happened to her. You didn’t allow her to drink any alcohol though, and shooed anyone who tried to sit next to her. You were preparing the drinks for a group of law students who just failed an exam when you saw someone approach Haley. You quickly set their drinks on the counter with tight lipped smile and walked over to your friend, fully prepared to shoo the man away, however you weren’t expecting to see a certain curly haired FBI agent sit next to her. You hesitated before the biggest smile took over your face, you tried to ignore the butterflies going crazy in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him hug him but the counter between the both of you made that difficult. Haley tensed after sensing the presence next to her but after turning her head and seeing the face of the man who uncuffed her from the ceiling she instantly relaxed. “Spencer.” You said at the same time Haley exclaimed, “Agent Reid.” Both greetings were equally surprised. Spencer smiled at you and you thought you would melt that very second. Your brain caught up to the situation and you instantly turned your attention to Haley. “You okay?” She knew what the question meant. Do you feel comfortable with him sitting there? You knew Spencer would understand and would gladly move to another seat but it wasn’t necessary as Haley gave a firm nod and then a verbal confirmation. Spencer eyed the interaction between the two before you noticed his confusion. “It’s her first time back here since...” you trailed of. “Oh.” Spencer looked back to Haley who was in an intense staring contest with the counter top. “I’m sorry. I know I should have called but Hotch gave us the weekend off last minute and I knew if I didn’t take it, it would just be another month before I got to see you.” You shook your head dismissing his apology. “It’s okay. My shift finishes at midnight though so you can wait it out and then I normally get some food and eat it back in my dorm so we can totally catch up there.” “Perfect.”  “In the mean time can I offer you anything to drink?” You reached under the counter, grabbing a glass and waited for his order. “Well I’m not on the clock anymore so just give me whatever you do best I guess.” You grinned and started to work on your specialty drink. After you were done you placed the drink in front of him and he took it with a smile. The rest of the evening consisted of you serving drinks and talking to both him and Haley whenever you weren’t being called or flirted with by drunk frat boys. When you were busy, you were quite surprised to find Haley and Spencer making easy conversation, at some point her asking him if he could walk her to the bathroom and wait outside the door for her. At the end of the night the two of you walked Haley home before making your way to a pizza parlor that is open 24 hours, ordering a large pepperoni pizza and drinks before walking back to your dorm. Spencer held the food as you turned the key and pushed the door open. He kicked the door closed and set everything down on your desk. “Do you mind if I change? I mean it really is nothing you haven’t seen before.” He snorted as he remembered meeting you for the first time. He nodded and you turned around quickly slipping your black t-shirt off and trading it for an oversized sweatshirt promoting your old high school. You slipped out of your dark jeans and pulled up a pair of loose sleep shorts. You turned back around to find Spencer looking anywhere but at you. “I’m decent Spencer you can look at me now.” He blushed a deep shade of pink and you let out a low laugh. You took of your contacts and slipped on your glasses. You sat on your bed and patted the space next to you. Spencer made his way over handing you a plate with a slice of pizza before sitting down. You ate and talked until about three in the morning when you asked Spencer if he wanted to change. “I mean I have my go-bag in the car but I was just planning on staying at a motel.” You rolled your eyes. “Nonsense. It’s three a.m. Spencer you’re staying here, so go grab your bag so you can change.” After a few minutes of arguing back and forth, Spencer eventually agreed and went downstairs to his car. You started picking up the trash throwing the empty box of pizza on a trash bin at the end of the hall because you did not want your room to smell like pizza all night. By the time Spencer came back you were already sitting down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you scrolled through your downloaded movies, ignoring the fact that you should probably go to sleep. “Do I just change here?” Spencer questioned and avoided eye contact. “Oh come on we’re both adults. Stop being so weird about it.” He laughed at your teasing and started unbuttoning his shirt. Instead of averting your gaze like he did when you changed, you couldn’t help but stare as his fingers worked down the buttons. He quickly put on an old Cal-Tech t-shirt over his chest, not giving you much time to appreciate him. You looked away when he started un doing his belt because you don’t think you could survive seeing him sliding his pants down his legs. He sat next to you after he was done and when you looked up to meet his eyes you were surprised to see thick frames placed lightly on his face. My god how is it possible for him to look even more attractive, you thought.  “You use contacts?” It was a statement more than a question. “Yeah.” Your eyes stared into his and he let his gaze fall to your lips before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “So what are we watching?” His stare made you nervous so you fixed your eyes to your computer screen and started talking. “I’m not sure. I mean I’ve watched all of these but quite frankly I’m not feeling any of them tonight. The reason I have them all downloaded is because they’re my favorites so it’s weird that I don’t want to watch them. I watch them all the time. Too much I think. They just put me in a better mood. But what do you want to watch because your opinion is just as important as mine and I don’t want you to think that we have to watch what I want. I can even download your favorite right now if you wa-“ your rambling was cut off by Spencer turning your head and pressing his lips against yours. You froze before you realized what was happening. You closed your eyes and returned the kiss, your hand going to his hair and his tightening his hold on your jaw. He pulled away and opened his mouth, no doubt wanting to say something,  but you were quick to pull him back kissing him hungrily. One of his hands went to your waist pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him. When he pulled away a few seconds later you let him in order to catch your breath. “Or we could just forget about the movie,” he breathed out. “We can definitely do that.” You pulled him back into the kiss, reaching behind you to slap the laptop closed. Your hands returned to his hair and you gave it a light pull as you rolled your hips down against his. He let out a groan and responded by biting down on your lip. He flipped you over and hovered over you as he trailed wet kisses down your neck. “So does this mean we’re officially dating?” You questioned as he sucked lightly on your collarbone. “I sure hope so,” he answered with a smile. . . . The next morning found the both of you in your dorm room, the glow of the late morning sun lighting up the space. Spencer was sitting on your bed, going over the file that he had taken from the office to finish over the weekend with a cup of coffee in his hand. You were sitting at your desk, your own cup of coffee placed on the desktop with a pen in your hand and your text book in front of you. You scribbled notes on your notebook before turning the page. You were both working in silence, content in each other’s company, when you were interrupted buy a knock on the door. You stood up, quite obviously annoyed,  and pushed your glasses up your nose. It was times like this when you hated being an RA because the kids on your floor expected you to solve every problem they had. The person who knocked  was a doe eyed freshman named Callie. The moment you opened the door Callie started talking about whatever she was complaning about on that particular morning. “Y/n I think someone brought someone back to the dorms last night . Because I could hear moaning and i know it’s allowed but at the beginning of the year they said if we bring someone to be considerate of others and in my opinion it was definitely Crystal becau-“ she stopped talking when she noticed your wide eyes and red face and that is when she took the time to look you over. You were wearing Spencer’s Cal-Tech t-shirt and your shorts and there was a very obvious hickey on your neck. She looked over your shoulder and saw Spencer sitting on the bed, working shirtless with a pair of sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips. “Oh my god.” Callie looked like a deer caught in the headlights, you were pretty sure you looked the same. “I am so sorry. I’m just-- going to uh- go.” With that she took off toward her room, no doubt to tell her roommates what she had just witnessed. You closed the door and turned to look at Spencer, still processing what had just happened. “They heard us.” Spencer couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing, as you looked and sounded absolutely mortified. “Stop! It’s not funny!” He reached out and took hold of your arm, pulling you to him. “Come on it’s a little funny.” “Maybe for you but I take care of these kids and they just heard their RA having sex.” Your back was against his bare chest and he traced patterns on your leg. “Like you said last night. We’re both adults so we deal with this accordingly.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.  “Oh and what is that?” You turned your head to look at him. He gave you a cheeky smile. “I sneak out and you pretend you don’t know what they’re talking about.” You started laughing and he placed a light kiss on your neck. “Okay the situation is kinda funny.” He grinned against your neck and you turned in his lap,catching his lips with yours. You tasted the overly sweet coffee you both drank this morning and you couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, you thought, I can definitely get used to this. You pulled away from him and got up from the bed, his hands chasing after you, trying to pull you back. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. You finish your consult.” “Yes ma’am.” You laughed at the small pout that adorned his beautiful face. You gathered your things but before you walked out of the room, you gave him a peck on the lips. The lovestruck smile on his face made your knees weak. 

When you walked back inside after your shower, you found him sitting on your desk chair, already dressed and with the bed made. He stood up, took your hand and led you back out the door. 

. . . The two of you spent the day walking around town. You gave him a tour which basically consisted of you taking him to all of your favorite places. At some point you ended up at the local bowling alley. You pulled him in even though he protested the whole time that he wasn’t any good. When you made your way up to the counter, he scrunched his face up in disgust at the shoes placed in front of him. Since you were basically forcing him to play he made it clear that he was not going to wear the shoes they provided and he suggested that you do the same. He went off about all the germs accumulated and spraying them with disinfectant after every use wasn’t enough. He absolutely refused to even touch them. You reluctantly agreed with a roll of your eyes and both of you ended up playing in your socks which caused you to slip and fall more than once. You quickly realized that Spencer was not joking when he said he was horrible at bowling. You were beating him by a fair amount of points since you spent most of your free time here with your friends, there weren’t really many places for young adults to hang out in. You suggested that he get the kids bumpers so his ball wouldn’t keep rolling off the side and he just mocked you before rolling his ball. It slipped off to the side and you just gave him a knowing look. “Shut up.” He mumbled before sitting down. “Isn’t there some sort of physics equation with momentum or something to get you the perfect shot?” You questioned. You slipped your fingers in the bowling ball, taking a deep breath before jogging up to the lane. Your right foot crossed behind your left ankle as you let go. The ball rolled in a perfectly straight line and knocked all the pins down. You turned around and raised your eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes at your obvious taunt. “Well there probably is.” He trailed off, his eyes glazing over. He started mumbling incoherently under his breath. He picked up the ball and took very measured steps before letting go. Unlike all the other times, his ball didn’t roll off to the side, instead it rolled in a perfectly straight line and knocked all the pins. Your eyes widened in shock, not having expected it to actually work, before you started cheering, jumping up and down. You rushed over to him and jumped into his open arms. He was smiling widely and a loud laugh left his lips. The other people in the bowling alley looked over to you, some jealous at the obvious chemistry between the two and others smiling fondly, memories of their own love stories coming to mind. You both knew you were making an unnecessary scene but you couldn’t care less. Spencer spun you around as you chanted “You did it!” over and over again. Spencer was shocked at how happy he felt. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time and he wasn’t expecting to feel this way with someone he only met a month ago. He was falling for you and he was falling fast. He can’t recall ever feeling this strongly for someone before. He never wanted to see you sad and every time you smiled he felt as if his heart was bursting open. In his line of work he is surrounded by the darkest aspects of humanity but when he is with you, all of that just seems to fade away and the only thing that mattered was the beautiful young woman standing in front of him, lighting up his world.

After a few more rounds you ended up winning, obviously, but you still felt like Spencer was the real winner. You suggested he invite his co-workers and beat them with his new fancy equation to hit the pins every time. He only laughed at that but you could tell that he was seriously considering it. You went to have lunch at a local diner before you took him to your favorite coffee shop. You remember him telling you in one of your phone calls how he never really liked iced coffee and you were determined to change that, since it was your favorite type of coffee. You ordered your usual and handed him his cup after they finished preparing it. He took one sip and his eyes widened. “Wow!” “I know!” He chucked at your excitement before taking your hand in his and walking out of the shop. You walked around for the rest of your day making casual conversation and sipping on your coffee. At some point his phone rang and he cursed. You frowned because he once told you that when his phone rang it normally always meant that he was getting called into work. You didn’t want him to get called in, as selfish as it sounded, you wanted him all to yourself. He reluctantly let go of your hand before answering the phone. “Hey JJ are we getting called in?” Since you were standing so close to him you could faintly hear the woman’s voice on the other end. “No, actually I was wondering if you could come and babysit Henry tonight. Will and I wanted to go out and I cannot find a babysitter on such short notice.” You could hear the desperation in “JJ’s” voice and you felt bad for her. She probably never got free time with who you assumed was her husband between work and her child. “Actually I can’t tonight. I’m out of town.” He placed the arm holding the iced coffee around your shoulders and pulled you even closer. “Oh.” JJ was surprised. You knew Spencer didn’t get out much, but you couldn’t help but find her unmasked shock amusing. “Did you go visit your mom?” “No. Umm I came to visit a friend.” He squeezed your shoulder with his wrist. Probably to make sure you knew he didn’t consider you just a friend. “I’m sorry I can’t be of any more help. You know I love watching over Henry but maybe you could drop him off with Garcia.” You heard the woman hum in agreement at his suggestion before thanking Spencer and hanging up. “Sorry that was my friend JJ. Henry’s my godson and I’m normally their go-to whenever they can’t find a babysitter.” You shook your head, assuring him that he didn’t need to apologize. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you weren’t being called away.” “Me too.” He turned your head and brought you into a deep kiss.

[rosy-cheekx]

I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

-

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

-

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

-

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

-

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless?  Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)

[twilightofthejedi]

chapter 2 of "sorry to my unknown lover" is up!

read on ao3 here

read chapter 1 on ao3 here and on tumblr here

chapter summary:

He is still watching his own blood settle on the ground when Vincenzo groans, stirring. Han-seok looks down at one of the shards of glass, how it turns reflective in the light. He sees his own smirk, and looks up.

It all starts now.

read under the cut below

chapter 2: prometheus

Jang Han-seok slips his phone into his pocket. It had been almost child’s play getting his personal effects back after his brief stint in jail, and he has no intention of returning.

Not when he has who he wants right in front of him.

He looks down at the great Vincenzo Cassano, unconscious and tied to a chair. His hair is matted with his own blood, and there is glass embedded in his knees. Han-seok bends to take out the glass, and wraps the wounds with cloth. It wouldn’t do to have Vincenzo’s wounds get infected too early. He does, after all, want him to be conscious for the next part of his plan.

At first, as he had watched Vincenzo and Cha-young banter easily on the sidewalk outside the plaza, bitter green jealousy twisting his stomach like acid, he had considered taking Cha-young instead. Wouldn’t it be nice to toy with Vincenzo from afar, dangling things like Cha-young’s glittery earrings in front of him, forcing him to come to her and scream in fear for her life?

It would, but he had realized that he didn’t need Cha-young to toy with Vincenzo. He could do that from two feet away from him, in a warehouse with nobody around them for miles.

Funny, really, how many abandoned warehouses there are, with nobody to care about them or even think twice about the screams coming from them.

The screams that he has every intention of pulling from Vincenzo.

He picks up one of the glass shards that he had pulled from Vincenzo, and runs his finger along the jagged edge of it. It pricks his finger, and the blood catches the industrial lighting overhead. He watches idly as the blood beads up and falls to the ground. It sits there, staining the gray concrete a dull brown.

He is still watching his own blood settle on the ground when Vincenzo groans, stirring. Han-seok looks down at one of the shards of glass, how it turns reflective in the light. He sees his own smirk, and looks up.

It all starts now.

-

“Noona , I can help.”

Both Cha-young and Mr. Nam look up with a start, and see Jang Han-seo standing there, shirt rumpled and tie askew. He is holding a computer and some sort of device, and his eyes are bloodshot.

She can only stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the text from hyungnim, too. That is what’s going on, right?” He looks in between them, eyes darting like he is nervous. Cha-young remembers a flippant line in Han-seo’s folder in the guillotine file: He was abused and tortured by his older brother for years, and resultant drug addiction , takes in Han-seo’s slightly shaking fingers, and decides to take a chance.

“What did he say in his message to you?” Mr. Nam says, seemingly reading her mind. He beckons Han-seo closer, and pulls out a chair for him to sink into. Han-seo unlocks his phone and sets it on the table, along with the computer and mysterious gadget. The message is nearly identical to the one that she had received but in context, significantly more terrifying: Hi Han-seo. Did you miss me? You can’t get rid of me that easily, little brother.

The picture and its caption are different, too. The picture is of a man’s hand, presumably Han-seok’s, holding a bloody watch, Vincenzo’s bare, pale wrist in the blurry background. Mr. Nam inhales sharply at the sight, and Cha-young impatiently clicks to the caption.

One more.

Cha-young has read her former hoobae ’s folder in the File; she knows what the watch signifies. For a second, she is standing outside a makgeolli shop on a rainy night, a clear plastic umbrella falling from her fingers that have suddenly gone numb, and pushing past bystanders who have gathered to watch; dispassionate, uncaring, apathetic bystanders watching one man die and another struggle to live, and sees the hundreds of sticky notes that had been stuck to the wall for months until she finally allowed herself to take them down. She stands up abruptly, and the other two men stumble to their feet after her.

“Byeonhosa-nim ?” Mr. Nam asks tentatively.

“Han-seo, what’s the laptop for?”

“Do you know where hyung is right now?” he asks abruptly. They both shake their heads. In the past few hours, Cha-young and Mr. Nam have come up with a plan for what to do when they find Han-seok, but they have been stumped on how to find him. It wasn’t like he had conveniently called them that they could track his phone, and surveillance footage courtesy of Mi-ri and Agent Ahn hadn’t turned up anything useful.

“I didn’t think so,” Han-seo continues. “You both know about his practice of collecting watches, right?” Cha-young exchanges a glance with Mr. Nam, who turns a delicate shade of green. She nods.

“ Hyungnim likes to wear the watches that he collects. He switches them around, wears a different one everyday. Never even matches them to his outfit. It’s ridiculous.” Han-seo trails off, rambling about sports watch and black suit, and Cha-young realizes she needs to steer the conversation back to relevancy.

“Han-seok has no fashion sense. So?” she asks, feeling her patience fray with every passing second. With every passing second Vincenzo could be getting tortured, or dying, or both at the same time.

Cha-young owns exactly one black hanbok . She has worn it three times in her life. First to her mother’s funeral, standing silently in the funeral parlor, fuming when her father stepped out to take a call from a client. The next time was nearly ten years later, for her father’s funeral. Then she had felt nothing, just a cold sea of emptiness, right until she saw the picture of them both at her law school graduation, at which point she had been punctured like a balloon, or a plant cell with too much water intake. The last and most recent time was at Vincenzo’s mother’s funeral. Then she had felt a bone deep sorrow, and a dizzying feeling of inevitability, like this was going to be the rest of her life. Going to funerals of people taken from her much too soon.

She refuses, however, to take out that hanbok again. Let it collect dust on its hanger in her closet. Let it fade with time. She refuses to lose anyone else, and she refuses to lose Vincenzo.

She’ll be damned if she lets Jang Han-seok change that.

“So,” Han-seo says, typing on the laptop. “I installed trackers in all of the watches. I’m finding his current location right now.” He looks up at them. “He will try to control the action from now on. His plan is probably to keep baiting you, noona , with pieces of information about Vin- hyung to keep you dependent on him. But now that we know where he is, we can confront him on our own terms. I mean, your terms. Because it’s your plan.” he finishes slightly awkwardly.

He turns the laptop to face them, and she and Mr. Nam crouch down to see. The blip on the screen is pointing to a warehouse over twenty miles outside of Seoul, which makes sense.

Cha-young looks both of her companions in the eye. “Let’s get to work.”

-

“Had a nice rest?”

Vincenzo leans back in the hard wooden chair he is strapped to. “It’s not first class, but it’ll do, I suppose.”

In front of him, Jang Han-seok sneers. Vincenzo just stares at him patiently. His initial few seconds when he woke up had remained unknown to his captor. He had lain there, still and silent, breathing evenly, to try and get a feel for his situation. Once he had deduced that there was only one person with him, and that they weren’t in the city, he had allowed himself to groan and let Han-seok know that he was awake. Now that his eyes are open and he has swept the area and can visualize it in his mind’s eye, he has nothing else to do other than let Han-seok show his hand.

After all, Jang Han-seok is nothing if not dependably predictable.

True to form, Han-seok stands abruptly. “Shall we take a picture? I’m sure sunbae would love to see how you’re doing right now.”

“I’m sure you’ve already sent her a picture, but go ahead.”

His captor narrows his eyes at him, and then strides away, out of sight. Vincenzo takes the opportunity to close his eyes and collect his thoughts. It’s been far too long since he was kidnapped. The last time was two years ago, when he woke up and found himself in a vineyard in Sicily, bound hand and foot.

He had burned the entire place down, as well as everyone in it.

Now, however, he cannot recklessly escape, or else he will lead Cha-young right into a trap. He has no doubt that she will find him and bring the right people and use the right resources to rescue him.

He knows this. He knows the competency of everyone that he has worked with for the past few months.

Over the past fifteen years, he has carried out more illegal acts than he can remember. He has burned, stolen, framed, defamed, and killed and killed and killed. He has not regretted much of it, save for one thing. Collateral.

Vincenzo knows that his actions after coming to Korea are in somewhat of a gray area. Yes, they are illegal, and very much dangerous, but they are justified . They are a means to a very much honorable end, and he doesn’t regret them. No, what he regrets is the collateral. Before, the word collateral had served as nothing more than a clinical way to refer to the people that got hurt in the crossfire. Collateral was a number, a number of people, an amount of money needed to fix it, statistics on a page in il capo’s ledger that got crossed off with a fountain pen, the book shut before the ink finished drying.

However, he still remembers straightening to his feet, his pointer finger still stained with fresh blood after tracing the letter C into the rapidly spreading bloodstain on the floor. He had scanned the area, because there was nothing that the capo hated more than loose ends on a job. When he had looked into the car, he had inhaled sharply, because there was a child cowering in the backseat, curled around a worn stuffed animal.

But now, collateral is the faces of people that he does not want to see gone. Against his will, he has become fond of every person living in Geumga Plaza, who has told him, with shining eyes, that he had given them something to fight for. They have all been living from day to day, not expecting much of the days to come, and now they veritably shine in their daily lives.

It’s like someone lit a fire underneath them, and once that fire was lit, no one could dare to extinguish it.

He shifts in his chair, and prepares to wait for Jang Han-seok to come back. Cha-young will come for him, and they will rain hell upon the world after that.

Until then, Vincenzo has no problem in being the one who dared to light up the world. The one who stepped down to earth, a fistful of flames in his palm. The one who bestowed heat and light and warmth and life to the world.

He does not regret his past actions, for he has kindled flames from smothered embers, and no one can put them out. For this, he will gladly be their fallen Titan, their Prometheus.

[theficplug]

|Next Lifetime|Erik Killmonger|

previous chapters : Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 

erik killmonger x black reader

|part 4|

warnings: um definitely smut this chapter at the end. so 18+ for this chapter! and a possible trigger warning for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcom.

synopsis:  reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). This one is a long ass chapter. So, grab you a snack and something to drink! I hope y’all like it.

“You promised on our birthday that you would give me something far more special than the charms you would gift to me. In 2018, you wanted to avenge your birth parents and you went off and did something foolish and when you- when they returned you to me you were-.” you struggle for a bit to find the words to explain it all to him as he takes a step back to gather himself. 

He rubs his eyes before grabbing your arms gently and massaging them . He leans down to look you in your eyes before asking “Ma, did you take something before I came to pick you up? You alright? Cause what you saying don’t make no sense at all... Your pupils don't look dilated though.” 

“I know how this must sound. Batshit crazy. I know it sounds crazy to me too. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m losing my own damn mind. I don’t know how or why. I just know that you came back to me.” you say to him and he shakes his head. 

“Erik. You’re talking about your ex boyfriend...The one that passed... . Alright, I’m going to take you home now... I still don’t understand what’s going on here and I’ve had about all I can take of trying to understand what’s going on here.” N’Jadaka says quietly to you before going around and opening your car door. 

The drive was silent as you picked at your nails and let the soft r&b roll over the tension between the two of you. 

Your own thoughts were going in about a billion different directions again. It didn’t feel right to just sit on all of that and not say anything at all. As ripped from a science fiction film as it sounded at least he knows. 

He was never one to think quietly because you could practically read his thoughts with the changing of expressions across his face.

The relief of seeing your building washed over you as he offered to walk you to your door. 

It was bittersweet because there was still so much of him in this different version of him. Even when he was upset with you or livid with whatever ghost that was haunting him back then,  he still showed nothing but tenderness to you.

You nod and give him a small smile before following him up the stairs , to your elevator, and finally your door. 

“I know that this is a lot. I mean who in their right mind would be able to process all of that.I wish there was any other way to say it... But thank you, I had a really nice time.” your soft words snap him out of staring at your face as if he was trying to piece it all together.

He knew deep down that there was something about you and what happened that weekend while dreaming in colours and other worlds but he couldn’t wrap his head around all of this happening in real life.  

You lean up to kiss his cheek and he grabs your shoulders softly. “With all due respect. You seem like a lovely person and a good woman, but I just - this all a lil too weird for me and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue seeing each other.” 

He kisses your hand and leaves with one look over your shoulder as you call out “Meet me at our spot. If you are still anywhere in there. You’ll know what I mean.”

“What the hell happened ? I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow morning?” Iri says as she settles on the other side of the sofa and patted the spot next to her as you kick off the sandals and lay your head on her lap with tears already prickling your eyes. 

“Oh you didn’t? Please don’t tell me you told him about the soulmate reincarnation thing? Sweets, you probably scared the hell out of that man. We needed you to keep that waaay down in the vault.” Tiki adds as she pops the cork off the bottle of wine in her hand and pauses the movie playing on the screen in the background. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do . You’re gonna text him and tell him that you had just gotten your wisdom teeth removed earlier today and the meds had you unexpectedly zooted as fuck. “ Iri suggests and you chuckle softly.

---

Meanwhile at N’Jadaka’s house he was already being pestered by Lina and Penn for some type of details about what happened during the date. Orleans was already in the kitchen cooking and ear hustling but went back to his conversation on the phone with Big Mike when he realized there wasn’t any tea. 

“I don’t feel good. I’m finna go lay down. I’ll talk to y’all in the morning”. He says simply to them before trudging his way to his part of the house.

They had been friends since college and just got used to the idea of living together as they did in the dorms so they made it work after graduation. 

It helped them save money for when they finally separated and all of their schedules kept them busy so they didn't have time to get sick of each other. They also knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him and to leave him alone when he gets this moody.

"What the fuck?" He whispered under his breath 

"What the fuck was all that?" He continues talking to himself as he strips and walks past the bathroom mirror to the shower. 

He stops when something catches his eye. He sees a birthmark on his chest that almost resembles the shape of claw marks. He lets his fingers linger over the mark for a second. Thoughts of a panther mask clouded his memories for a moment before he shook his head and entered the shower. 

---

A few hours later of talking through it with your girls about possibly seeing a therapist about all that's going on and you were ready for bed. 

It didn't take long to drift off, you were ready to put the whole thing behind you. 

The familiar setting of purples , pinks, and hues of blue came into focus and you looked around letting the butterflies land on you again.

 You walk through the flowers and find Erik sitting by a stream of water weaving some of the flowers together. 

"What the hell, E?" You ask as you run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck

He turns to you and smiles big , his dimples on full display before shrugging. 

"It ain't perfect but it's the best I could do. They said it's like a do-over or something like that. I get a second chance but as a result of the way I did things the first time it's a lil different. Like when you restore a computer and it lose all it's files and shit. I get a new life but I'm still kinda stuck. I kinda like it though. I don't remember all the other shit when I'm awake. It really is like starting over. Shits crazy to explain when you think about it. But for you , you already know. I'd find you in this life and the next and the one after that. I don’t think I’mma ever fully remember what happened with all of that when i’m awake. I’m cool with it. It ain’t something I’m tryna remember." He says tipping your chin up to look at you and kissing you softly 

"I know. At least I get to hold you in the real world. It's just different. But guess what I saw today? I seen that bench that you and me signed all them years back. It's still there." You say to him and he places the lil flower bracelet around your wrist as y'all sit and talk for the rest of the night.

By the time you wake up with the aroma of breakfast wavering throughout the loft you feel a little better about the whole situation with Erik, not Erik. 

You opened your phone and sent him an I'm sorry gif with a few extra words inspired by Tina's wisdom tooth lie. 

 After easing into the kitchen and standing in the doorway you see the two lovebirds dancing around the kitchen singing to each other and laying food on the plates. 

"Morning lil sleepy head. Don't forget that I'll still be coming down to the center with you today for the seminar. You hungry?" Iris asks as she places the plate in your hands with a kiss to the top of the head. 

"Of course. There's a young girl, Sophie there that I really think would love to talk to you. She's just starting her transition. And her parents are wonderful but they don't really have much money. She hasn't really had the chance to get more “feminine” presenting clothes and she likes makeup.  " You say and she nods catching your drift.

"Well it'd brighten anybody's day seeing a beautiful successful trans woman like myself honey. But let's lift her spirits even more. I'm gonna bring some of the makeup I got from pr packages and some of the clothes from this collection. I really hope it helps." She answers and Tika just saunters over to her proclaiming her love for her. 

"Alright alright alright. I get it. I'm single as hell." You say laughing softly

---

Two weeks ticked by with radio silence on N'Jadaka's end. After the 4th day when he gave you the cold shoulder at a coffee shop, you decided to stop trying.

Maybe it wasn't fate and maybe you were just believing what you wanted to believe. 

You reason with yourself as you walked around the loft making notes about the new housing project you were working on. 

Finally having the house to yourself with the lovebirds gone for the day on a little adventure. You got to work budgeting and calling different areas to rent out apartments to you for women and lgbtq+ with housing insecurities. 

Your ramblings and thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door , thinking that Iri or Tika left something behind. 

"I told you to take your sunscre- Daka?" You question as he stands in front of you

You cross your arms and furrow your brows while waiting for an answer from him.

He stands for a moment like he’s trying to gather all of his thoughts together in a way that makes sense to both of you. 

"What're you doing here?" You ask putting your hand on your hip. 

He drops his shoulders and lets out a soft sigh before looking at you.

"I didn't wanna believe it. What you said that night cause like how the fuck does something like that happen? I’mma be honest.  I wanted to just believe that you were a lil off and leave it at that but something keeps telling me that you right. I can't remember shit before college and all I wanted to do was be with you. From the moment I met you in the store. I was like, this is it. This is what's missing. A piece to a puzzle that's all jumbled up." He admits and you nod slowly before letting him in. 

You walk around the kitchen getting a cup of tea for yourself and sitting a cup of coffee down on the counter for him.

“Don’t worry it’s black, I know you dont like it sweet.”

"You know I didn't exactly expect my fiancee that I buried months before to show up at a damn supermarket of all places. This isn't some movie or fanfiction. These kind of things don't happen in real life. Daka you, you had claw marks all over you. The last time I laid eyes on you. And now you're here in front of me. I thought that I was losing my mind." You say and he starts to unbutton his shirt.

"These." He says peeling his shirt off and showing you the birthmarks on his chest and shoulder.

You trace your fingers over it before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

"I asked my parents about my childhood and when I passed by my old neighborhood a few days ago andI remembered some things. I remember what happened to my other parents, in pieces. Shit’s brutal." He says dropping his gaze

"It's okay." You whisper to him and wrap your arms around him. You rocked him for a moment letting him let all of those feelings wash over him. 

He embraced you for a moment before kissing you tenderly. You tug at his bottom lip before deepening the kiss when he press you against the counter. 

"We'll figure it out... Something telling me I'd be a fuckin fool to lose you again." He says quietly against yours lips. 

"Are you gonna make love to me or are you going to keep looking at me like that?" You ask as he studies your whole face like he's looking at art. 

"A memory. It's you. We stood right here and I kissed you the same way. You were saying something like "you bring yourself home to me"." He says and you nod frantically, holding him closer to you.

"I did. It was right before you left." You admit and he nods before lifting you up onto the counter and kissing you heatedly this time. He kisses down to your breasts before looking up at permission from you to unhook your bra. 

Always a man that knows what he's doing. He takes kisses around your breasts and nipples. He takes his time to lick and caress you until he works his way down.

You shake your head yes before moving to slide off your panties but his kisses and his mouth is already beating you to it as he kisses down to your thigh.

He slides your panties off with his teeth and tosses them over his shoulder. 

You tilt your head back as you feel him wasting no time massaging over your clit and working you over with his fingers, curling them and stroking you gently. 

Your soft moans fill the room when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and begins to suckle your clit softly , swirling his tongue over it. 

"Tika will kil- Ooh god. How does your tongue feel like it's vibrating?" You ask and he only chuckles and grips onto your cheeks to bring you closer to him.

He was feasting on and devouring you like he was going to lose again and you could grind your hips down against his tongue and moan his name sweetly.

He didn't stop his tongue or fingers working in you until your legs are shaking and you're gripping at his head. 

"You have- fuck. I'm a squir-" you moan his name brokenly while trying to get out your words and lean back for a moment licking his lips before realizing what you're trying to say.

"Hold that for me. I wanna come with you." He says to you and you pout and protest as he removes his fingers. He picks you up off the counter and carries you bridal style asking you which room is yours.

"Left , left." You giggle into his shoulder as he helps you slide your dress off and you unbutton his jeans for him. 

You capture him in a kiss for a moment feeling his soft plump lips against yours again for the first time in what feels like forever. 

"It's been a long time since I've done all of this. . . Gentle." You say and he runs a calloused finger over your cheek moving a curl away from your face as he looks at you. 

He gets a quick flash of a memory of you and him in bed. You wore a smile on your face before telling him "happy anniversary".

He trailed his fingers down your body remembering almost every scar , every moment. 

When Erik got to a scar at your side. He chuckled, unlocking a memory of you two running from the neighborhood rottweiler , Smokey. 

That old ass dog hated you and he hoisted you over the fence first after being out late one night in high school. The gate had caught your side when you jumped. 

Erik felt so bad he brought you food from anywhere you wanted everyday from to school for a month. 

He leans down to place open mouthed kisses to it. 

He traced over your thighs to the cellulite and stretch marks remembering when you first got them. 

He was moving homes at the time and he wasn't ready to be further away from you yet.  You two just sat for hours at the park in the grass, talking. 

" You know white men behind all of that anyways. They want y'all to feel like you gotta look the same way. That's how they make them billions. My mama had 'em . Yo mama , and generations back. And it ain't ever stop them from being the women they are. Besides if any dirtneck nigga ever try you , just tell me. Imma handle it." He would say as you sat with your head on his lap, staring at the sun setting, knowing good and well your grandparents were gonna ground you for being late when you get home. 

They never did though cause you were with Erik they knew you were gonna be alright. 

"Nothing to worry about. I… I've never done any of that stuff before…Have you?" you question hesitantly as you stare off. 

"Tisha. From Ms. Wilkes class. We was coming from the kick back-" 

"Uh uh . That's your business , you ain't gotta tell me all of that." You say slightly upset at the fact that Tisha of all people was his first. 

----

"I got you." He says kissing your forehead then your nose before hooking your leg over his hip and easing into you slowly while his lips are still on yours. His eyes never left yours as he cupped your face sweetly like he didn't want to lose you again. 

In this moment he gets a glimpse of prom night and how things changed between the both of you forever. 

He wraps his hands around your waist. One of his hands splayed across your belly. 

He remembers the pregnancy scare you both had afterwards with him holding your hand and telling you no matter what happens he wanna be there for both of you.

Luckily, nothing came of it but you were definitely closer because of it.

You let out an open mouthed gasp at the feeling of being so full of him after so long. 

You rest your hands on his neck and shoulder and he bottoms out fully settling into you as he moves his arms next to  balance himself. 

You close your eyes as he begins to stroke into you trying to set a rhythm for you as his praises for you fall from his lips. 

He kisses his way down your neck licking the marks that are already starting to form there. 

"My lil baby." He mutters out after licking a freshly formed hickey forming on top of your breasts. 

You open your eyes slowly , looking at him and the way he's looking at you . 

"It's been way too long since I've heard that from you. You're remembering?" You ask quietly as you let out a soft moan.

N'Jadaka's muscles flex and tighten as he picks up his pace. His abs clenched as he  pulls out almost completely and filled you at a different angle.

 The sounds of your moans filling the room with every stride and stroke of his hips,  it seems like you're closer to floating in space. The man was fucking you like his life depended on it and at this point all you could do is wrap your arms around him again to comfort you as he shutters and rolls his hips deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him as you relish in the feeling of him. 

"Fuck. I remember all of it." He says half chuckling at the way it's coming to him and half nearly in tears cause he really missed being with you. 

"I also remember that this is your favourite position cause you like to see my face." He teases before leaning down to kiss you again with them plump ass lips.

"E?" You ask , grabbing his face with trembling hands.

"Baby?" You ask again 

He moves his hands from your waist and places your hands in his. Then moving them above your head as he flashes in between making love to you for the last time and now.

You roll over with him and place your hands on your chest riding him slowly getting the rhythm as he strokes into you from below. 

He laughs softly when he realizes what you're doing. 

"Are you spelling my fucking name , baby?" He asks and you tell him that you can spell both.

You let out a whimper when he brushes your spot and let him take over as he runs his hands over your thighs to your butt and over your back as he strokes into you. 

He plants his feet on the bed and work your hips in rhythm with him. 

It didn't take long for you to orgasm with a loud shriek of his name . You had forgotten how he gets when he's close as his hands on gripping all over your thighs and your back. You were already feeling sensitive with your second orgasm coming through and this man felt like he was trying to put it in your belly. 

He rolls you onto your side giving it to you deeply. 

With a loud hiss and panting from him he cums , holding you in his arms.

"I don't think it has felt like that since our birthday last year." He says into your ear as he pulls you closer into his arms. 

He engulfs you fully in his embrace and presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

You laugh softly and roll over to face him , resting your forehead against his.

"I remember. You took me to Paris. I had never been and at the time I was obsessed with everything Parisian. We fucked on the balcony and somehow I ended up popping the straps to my favorite dress. You still owe me by the way." You tease and he shakes his head laughing. 

"I think we ended up saving they marriage from across the way though. They was arguing the whole time. Then they gon watch us like we ain't see them." Erik says laughing as he squeezes your thigh playfully.

"I know they was trying some things." You joke 

"I missed you so much. You don't even understand." You admit with a somehow saddened and relieved expression. 

"I know.  I want to start over this time. All of that Erik Killmonger shit is over with. I wanna keep the name N'Jadaka and just start over. All of that was too heavy on me to carry. I wanna let it all go. I wanna do it right with you." He explains 

"Good because if you put me through that again. Wakanda will be the least of your damn worries." You say to him and he nods giving you his word, sealed with a kiss.

"It'll be alright. Everything happens for a reason. And I think that right now a bath needs to happen and I'm gonna need you to do that thing again that you did in the kitchen cause I'm tryna figure out when you learned that-" 

At some point after the bubble bath/ shower combo you were both out like a light until Iri and Tika decide to come busting in like they usually do with little gifts and food for you. 

"Guess who's your fave- SHE GOT A WHOLEASS MAN IN HER BED" Iri announces to Tika before your pillow hits the door as she closes it. 

"Sorry about that. This is kinda our cuddle hour so they're used to just coming on in." You say sleepily and he just laughs it off while holding you closer. 

"It's all good. I remember that I ain't know them much before but when we did spend time with them, they were good people." He says, still trying to piece it together.  

----

You fell asleep more peacefully than you had in a long time. Now granted, good sex didn't fix the many layers of issues and mysticism surrounding everything.

But for now, you knew that you had him, you had your girls, family and your business. Everything felt alright again. 

Right up until the point of sleeping through the first alarm to meet the property owners.

"Bae. Bae your phone going off." N'Jadaka whispers in the dark room , voice still riddled with sleep and grogginess. 

"Shit. Shit. I'm gonna be so late." You call out , quickly jumping out of bed and stumbling around the room. 

It takes you about 25 minutes to speed through getting dressed in your best skirt suit. 

N'Jadaka sits on the end of the bed putting on his shoes and watching you shuffle around. 

He had offered to drive you there and stay with you and check out the property with you. 

He slows you down by grabbing you by your arms gently and placing a kiss to your lips. 

"Good morning, handsome. Let's go" 

You walk through the living room with Iri and Tika already posted up in the kitchen placing two breakfast burritos in a container to grab and go. 

You grab your things from the counter all while thanking them and jetting towards the door.

"Good luck pooh!" Tika calls after you. 

"Byyyyeeee Dakaaaa" they call out after him

---

"Here it is . These are the apartments. I know they don't look like much now from the outside. But from the pictures it looks great. And they'll be safe and comfortable here-" you babble on to N'Jadaka while you both stand outside of the building where Erik grew up , until you notice two women walking to  a car that clearly wasn't from this area. 

You notice Shuri and your breath hitches in your throat. 

Frozen in your anxiety, the seconds ticked by and it was too late to leave. She looked you dead in the eye and then at N'Jadaka like she had seen a ghost.

She gasped and Nakia followed the eyes before back into the car. 

"SHURI WAIT - PLEASE" you yell out to them but the car was already speeding  away. 

tag list : @doublesidedscoobysnacks @chaneajoyyy @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67​ @amyhennessyhouse @dasia21​ @depressionandfandomsinc @sinfully-dope @ambitionwood @heybriheyyy @wholelotta-melanin @theesotericqueen​ @mbakuwife​ @spookys-girl @teardropzih @bigchoose @ceo-of-baby @sweetpeachjones @lost-ssoull  @shyblackgurl @justpeachee @nijajoha @imayhavemisunderstood @beautifullmelodyxx​ @alookintohersoul @rbhp @champagnesugamama​ @just-peachee @almeda-344  @mahogany2021 

[90spumkin]

Unexpected Switch (Part Three)

Summary: Y/n struggles with the memories of the night at the club.

A/N: Well this is my longest part yet! I know there is a lot of dialogue especially in the first scene, but it is necessary. Also you will notice in this part that I have a strong dislike for JJ, we do not hate in this house, but I will do right by her character in the future just bare with me. I love AJ Cook so don’t get that confused. Also I mention something about the reader’s sexuality in this part just making it clear I support the LGBTQ community. I hope you enjoy! I am always open to suggestions or comments.

Part Two: https://90spumkin.tumblr.com/post/631081814828695552/unexpected-switch

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks, and talk of mental health (if anyone is struggling with these things and need someone to talk to my inbox is always open. I to struggle with these things and hold no judgment).    

Word Count: 2187

“What the hell! A sister? A twin at that.” I had started pacing the length of the table rambling to the curly haired doctor. I could feel his eyes following me, taking in every move I made. I stopped abruptly and looked at Dr. Reid, “I was adopted, but like there’s no way my parents would have known about there being another baby. If they had known they would have told me. Right?”

He looked so taken aback by my sudden focus on him that it took him a moment to register that I had spoken directly to him. He opened and closed his mouth several times like he was trying to string the right words together to answer my question sensibly.

I started pacing again realizing he did not have a good answer for me. “Also, why the hell am I still in this interrogation room? We’ve figured out I’m not the killer.” I run my hands through my hair tugging slightly out of frustration

“Could you sit down you’re making me anxious?”

My body broke out in goosebumps at the sound of the not so silent doctor’s voice. I stopped and turned, my body completely facing him, “What?”

“Could you sit – oh that was a rhetorical question.”, His eyes never left mine as I sat down due to his request.

“So, he does speak. I was starting to think you were mute.”, I tell him with a small smirk. He gives me a kind of intense look while leaning his elbows onto the table separating us.

“It would be very hard for me to do my job now wouldn’t it, y/n?” He said it with a small smile playing over his lips, and the way he said my name had me thinking things very unrelated to the conversation we were currently having.

“No, I guess you couldn’t.” I responded. I sat back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest and wondered if that was all the doctor was going to say to me during our time here.

He muttered something under his breathe while looking down at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world, “Even though I have plenty of reasons to be selectively mute.”

I don’t think I was meant to hear him by the way his eyes snapped to mine when I said, “I feel like there’s story or two behind that statement.”

He just shakes his head not convincing me otherwise when the door opened and in stepped none other than- “Luke!” I said his name a little to enthusiastically, I was just so happy to see a familiar face. Not that Dr. Reid’s face had not had my thoughts distracted enough.

Luke just kind of chuckled when he greeted me back, “Hi y/n. I now realize how good of a disguise a lot of dirt can be.”

Pretty boy side eyed Luke while saying, “I still don’t understand how you didn’t recognize her; it couldn’t have been that good of a disguise.”    His voice held. annoyance and a hint of some other emotion I couldn’t place

“Not everyone has an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, Reid.” Luke responded. I just stared at Luke and then at the Doctor who had returned his gaze back to the table obviously not enjoying the attention being put on him. Well he just got 10 times hotter if that is even possible.

“Okay y/n we have kept you in here while we ran a profile on you before fully deciding if you were an accomplice or a victim in all of this.” Luke said all this without missing a beat. He quickly continued when he looked up from the files he had brought in and saw the displeased look on my face. “We couldn’t be sure until we ran every part of the profile with you in it. We now know that you are very much a victim, a victim to more than you realize.”

I had so many questions but before I could form the words Luke held up and finger hushing me. “We will explain everything in time, but first Dr. Reid is going to conduct a cognitive interview allowing you to explain more of what happened at the club. Then once Agent Prentiss has the approval, we will be taking this case back to Quantico.”

_______

After many heated phone calls between Agent Prentiss and the poor soul on the other end of the line; we were on the BAU’s private jet headed back to Quantico. I made a mental note not to get on the boss lady’s bad side.

I sat in the back of the plan alone staring out the window. I couldn’t help but to think about the memories that were unlocked during the cognitive interview that took place back in Massachusetts.

           “Y/n close your eyes and think back to when you were at the bar and received the text message from your friends.” I closed my eyes and allowed Dr. Reid’s voice to transport me back to the previous night.

               I could smell the alcohol and sweat from the people that surrounded me. I saw the text from my friend as clear as day. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as a scream was let out across the club. I turned my head toward the sound and saw a woman stumbling back from the stairs that led up to the bathrooms. That was when all hell broke loose, and everyone was stumbling over each other trying to get to the exits at the front of the building. I started pushing my way through the stampede of people trying to reach where the scream resonated from. I knew someone had called 911 because I could hear the sirens in the distance. When I finally reached my destination. I could only stand in shock at the scene in front of me.

My focus was suddenly brough back to the plan by the sudden burning in my chest. I clutched at the material of shirt that covered my chest. I started gasping for breath. I felt the presence of someone to my left, but I couldn’t focus on them. This it! The abys finally has me.

“Y/n focus on my voice. Tell me what you smell.”

“Leather…and…vanilla?” I barely whispered the words.

“Okay good. What do you hear?”

I took a moment my breathing starting to stabilize, “The rumbling of the plane’s engine.”

I opened my eyes that I hadn’t even realized I had closed, and I was met with the beautiful doctor’s face consorted with worry. I then noticed all the other agents had gathered around me, but at a safe distance not overwhelming me.

“I’m okay” I tell them giving a small reassuring smile. Most of the team nodded and went back to their seats after lingering just a tad longer watching me to make sure I was truly okay. The fact that Agent Jareau was the first one to walk away did not go unnoticed. Hateful bitch.

Once the others were convinced, I wasn’t going to pass out and had returned to their seats; Dr. Reid stood from his position crouched down next to me and slid into the seat across from me. He fixated that pierce stare of his on me, no doubt taking in all my behavior to really make sure I was okay.

I broke the silence by thanking him and his only response was a quick nod. A few minutes passed before the silence was broken again.

“How long have you been having these panic attacks?” His face was set in a way that let me know he genuinely wanted to know.

I leaned my head back against the seat smelling the leather I had mentioned earlier. “They started the night at the club. The first one was brought on by a dream, well more like a nightmare.”

He sat quietly listening to me as I explained the darkness that seemed to take over my mind since that night. “Any time I think about that night it’s kind of like my brain wants to shut down, and I am thrown into this dark abys and I’m drowning just like in my dream. I’m sorry you probably weren’t that curious.”

He quickly responded reassuring me, “No, it’s okay I was curious.” He crossed his arms over his chest before he continued, “Most panic attacks are brought on by anxiety, and that would make sense in your situation. Your dream is more than likely your brain trying to cope with the fear of the accident and all the immense stress you have been experiencing the past day or so. In many cases doctors just write it off as genetics, but studies have shown that that is not the most common reasons. In fact, anxiety and panic attacks are caused more by PTSS than it is anything.”

He stopped abruptly and I couldn’t help but wonder why. I guess my faced asked before I could form the words because he proceeds. “I’m sorry I tend to ramble about facts that no one actually cares about.”

I couldn’t help but be in shock at the fact that he was so eager to share his knowledge and two how could people hate to listen to this man talk when he sounds so happy exposing the wisdom he has locked inside that brilliant brain of his.

“Hey, I for one enjoy learning new things especially if that something is happening to me and I don’t quite understand why. So, do not ever apologize for spilling facts to me while we are associated with one another during this case, or even after if our paths ever cross again.”

The small smile he had on his face was all I needed to know that he appreciated everything I said. We sat in comfortable silence the rest of the plane ride, except for the small snores coming from the pile of muscles laid across one of the seats known as SSA Matt Simmons.

__________

 After the jet landed Agent Prentiss lead me to her office and dismissed the team to go home for the night to come back in the morning refreshed.

Once we reached Agent Prentiss’s office, she led to the small leather couched placed against the back wall. She informed me that she would be right back before walking right back out the door we just entered. She returned not even 5 minutes later with two bags of potato chips and two bottles of water

“I am absolutely starving, and I know you are, I could hear your stomach growling from the other side of the plane.” She handed me the food and water and I gave her a small thank you as she pulled a chair up to sit across from me.

“Okay y/n I know it’s late so I’m not going to conduct another cognitive interview you need rest and a real meal before that. I do have one question for you though. Are you okay?”

I just stared at the dark-haired woman in front of me and barely croaked out a response, “What?”

“We may be federal agents y/n, but we aren’t heartless. You’ve been through so much in the past couple of days and I know your mental state can’t be the best right now taken you’ve had at least two panic attacks in 24 hours.” The look I gave her must have been enough for her to know what I was thinking. “I may have overheard your conversation with Reid earlier.”

I looked down at my lap and started fiddling with a piece of string connected to the seam of the shirt I had gotten from the homeless shelter. I must look as bad as I feel.

I of course don’t tell her that instead I say, “I’m okay Agent Prentiss, honestly.” I don’t look up at her until she says, “Please call me Emily.”

I smiled at her kindness and nodded. I swear if I weren’t straight, I could fall for this woman right here right now.

The door to Emily’s office swings open making both of us jump as the most colorful woman on earth rushes in.

“Shit! Penelope!” Emily holds a hand over her chest and scolds the rainbow woman. I on the other hand am trying to calm my heartbeat that is beating so loudly I’m sure the other two woman can hear it.

Penelope’s expression is sincere yet frantic as she says, “I am so sorry Em, but I was finally able to dig up everything on y/n family. Oh, hi you’re y/n, oh my gosh hi. I am so sorry I didn’t realize. Oh, you poor thing.” She says all this with both hands cupped over her heart as if everything that has happen caused her heart to actually hurt.

I looked between the bubbly woman who almost made me pee myself and Emily, trying to process what had just happened.

Emily looked at me and then at Penelope and said, “Tell us everything.”.

*

*

*

@criminalmindzjunkie​ @hendersonsshadow​ @brooklynxnicole​ @misschil3​

[dammitolly]

Three: "New York"

Warnings: none

F.R.I.D.A.Y woke me up at 7 AM the next morning, about five hours earlier than I would usually wake up back home. Because I was home schooled, there were no alarms. But here... just being here was the biggest wake-up call I could've gotten. The universe was essentially saying, "Come on Howie, time to grow up."

F.R.I.D.A.Y began to speak, giving me the rundown of the day's itinerary, which included a meeting with S.H.E.I.L.D at noon, and the flight departure to New York directly afterwards, the transportation to which I would most likely be bombarded by cameras.

Tony assured me that Happy would have everything under control, no harm would come to me. But, then again, by telling the world that I am Tony Stark's daughter, I was essentially putting a target on the back of my head. Telling anyone that wanted to get back at my dad, "Here I am! Come use me as bait!" But, Tony said he doubted any of that would happen, only an idiot would mess with him and his billion dollar space-guns.

I walked across the cold tile floor of my bedroom, reaching to the dresser to pull out some jeans and a t-shirt, when I noticed that they were already placed out on the chair for me. Pepper, I assumed, had put out a pair of black shorts and a plain white long-sleeve. I would need sunscreen. I may have gotten a tan over the years of living in the sunniest place on earth, but I still burned pretty easily.

"Squirt," a voice boomed over the PA. I jumped, not realizing that was a feature in this house. I'm not sure why I didn't already assume that was possible, it was Tony freaking Stark, "Come upstairs when you're done getting dressed, Pepper wants to debrief you on meeting protocol."

I slipped on my shorts and shoes, completely fine with the large hoodie I had worn to bed instead of the shirt Pepper had laid out for me, and ran upstairs.

"Good morning, Astrid," Pepper said as she walked briskly past me and to the kitchen, tapping away at her tablet. She always looked so professional, I suppose as CEO of Stark Industries she would have to be. She had been my role model since I was a child, my father on the other hand was simply a name and face on the news every once and awhile, "Tony asked me to go over protocol with you."

"Yeah... he told me."

She met my gaze and smiled as she looked down at her tablet, "You look like him."

I scoffed, "So I've been told."

She sat across from me and pushed a bowl of fruit towards me, "Should we start?"

I nodded and said through a bite of cantaloupe, "Yeah sure that sounds fine."

"Don't add any unnecessary detail in your answers, make sure to keep it short and sweet, to the point. I'm willing to bet most of the questions will be directed towards Tony anyway. But in the situation that they do ask you questions, they will most likely be in regards to how you feel about the situation with you and your father, not to mention the death of your mother.

"If you're asked for an opinion on the state of things, make sure you reply with indifference. Not necessarily lying, but not letting them in on every little thought you have, does that makes sense?"

"Yes, perfectly."

"Good," she sighed, "there's more in here about professional language and formalities, but I don't think you need to be reminded of any of that, do you?"

"No ma'am," I shook my head.

"Good," she shut the case to her tablet and motioned behind me, "I'll leave you to eat your breakfast."

"Looks great Pep," Tony chirped as she walked down the hall, off to do more work for Tony in preparation for the meeting.

"Long day," he sighed as he sat down, pulling my bowl away from me to eat the rest.

"That's mine," I said, pointing to the bowl with my fork.

He snatched the utensil out of my hand and stabbed a strawberry, "Not anymore," he said with a smirk.

"Apparently so," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "When do we leave?"

"The meeting is at noon, so we'll probably leave for New York in about 30 minutes."

"I thought the conference would be here," I raised an eyebrow.

Tony sighed in irritation, "So did I but Steve wanted to be there even though this isn't even about him, so New York it is."

I began bouncing my leg, a nervous tick I'd developed at a young age. I didn't want to meet them, not yet. They were practically celebrities... and I was just me: a stupid little girl from Hawaii who didn't know anything about this side of life. The sacrificial... dangerous side of everyone that my father was so aware of, was now waiting for me in New York.

"Hey kid," Tony put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, "Just be yourself, that's what I've done and it works for me. You have no reason to be nervous. Everything will be fine."

I didn't believe him.

"Plants, huh?" Tony asked from across the isle of the jet. Part of me felt relieved he'd finally said something. We'd been on the plane for almost an hour without any conversation, not even small talk.

I turned and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Tony motioned to his tablet, "It says here on your school file that you're interested in botany. Any particular reason for that?"

"Plants can't flinch when you poke at them," I replied sarcastically, earning a scoff from Tony.

"C'mon kid, be real with me," he said lightheartedly.

I sighed, "Well... really I wanted to study marine botany. It seemed like a good way to stay near the ocean, near my grandparents."

"We have some really good programs in New York, if you want to pursue that. Or... Stark industries could start one-"

"Tony," I interrupted him. He raised an eyebrow and sat back in his seat. I could tell I'd struck a nerve. Note to self: Tony Stark does not like being interrupted. "Sor-Sorry," I stammered like a moron, "It's just that I already have online courses that I take... and I read textbooks on the internet-" I stopped myself from rambling and took a deep breath, steadying myself, "What I'm trying to say, is that I'm good just... teaching myself." He scoffed and went back to his tablet. I poked my chin out and raised my eyebrow, "What's funny?"

He smiled and shrugged, "I was just thinkin' you sound like me when I was your age."

New York was freezing... at least... it was compared to Hawaii. The April weather in Manhattan was colder than any weather in my hometown. Part of me was refreshed... another part of me was stressing over the amount of money Pepper had probably already spent on new clothes suited for this weather. Even the car was cold.

Tony was typing away on his phone. Which reminded me... my phone. I needed to text Kaitlyn. I logged into messenger and was bombarded with text messages from a very panicked Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn: Howie? You told me you'd text me.

Kaitlyn: Astrid Howard, do not make me come get u.

Kaitlyn: Dude, y r u on the news?

Kaitlyn: Please... just reply to me when you get this.

Me: Hey, sorry I didn't get ur text earlier. I promise I'll explain everything tonight.

"Kid," Tony said, grabbing my attention by putting his hand over my phone screen. "We're here."

It took me until then to realize the car had stopped, and I was right in front of the new, recently rebuilt Avengers Facility. Standing outside the two front doors was Captain America and Bucky Barnes, two faces that I'd recognized from the posters lining Kaitlyn's walls.

"Ready?" Tony asked. 

I shakily nodded, "Okay, let's do it."

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26

Thank you for your patience! The last couple weeks were rough with final projects and exams so I’ll do my best to get back on track :)

Nalu Au. Angst. TW mentions of kidnapping, killing 

“FUCK!!!” Natsu screams and buries his face in his hands. The message was loud and clear and if they didn’t find Lucy quickly, Touka was set to kill.

Levy rushed over to console the man because she knew the situation had just turned into a worst-case scenario. “D-Don’t lose hope yet,” she does her best to keep her voice smooth even though inside she was screaming. “We’ll find her, Gajeel can track… her phone... wait a minute,” She suddenly jumps up and rushes back to her phone. “Track her phone! I can track her phone!”

Natsu looks up, “what are you taking about?!”

“A couple years ago I lost my old phone,” Levy rambled as she tapped furiously on her screen, “so, after I replaced it, we both turned on a tracker app so we could find each other’s phones in case it happened again! I never imagined it would come in so handy!”

“Are you serious!” He jumped off the couch and rushed over to the woman with hopeful intent.

Once it began, they watched the cursor on the screen pulsing as it searched for Lucy’s phone signal. Each second that ticked by was excruciatingly slow. “Come on, come on,” they chant together. The map on the screen starts to move, zeroing in, closer and closer.

“Looks like...” Levy mumbled aloud as it moved, “somewhere in Meguro... near a Meguro nursery school...”

“I know that area...”

“What?”

“That’s my hometown.”

“Okay it’s stopped moving, that must be the building.” Levy quickly screen shots the location and forwards it to Natsu’s phone. “I’ll send it to Gajeel too. If you hurry you might be able to catch a train to the closest station.”

“Thanks, Levy!” Natsu wasted no time in rushing out the door. Precious minutes were already passing by and it’ll take him at least 30 minutes by train. He called Gray to update him on the situation as he ran to the station.

“Yeah, that’s near our old high school man, I don’t get it,” Natsu tells his friend.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence?” Gray responds.

“I don’t know. That chicks been stalking me for a couple years that I know of, but something is just not settling right for me.”

“You think she knew you in high school?”

“Maybe... oh, I’m getting on the train now. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Good luck Natsu and be careful!”

“I will.”

Natsu plopped down onto a seat out of breath from running as fast as he could. It was lucky for him that the train hit the station he was near in a few minutes. Maybe luck was finally on his side. According to Gajeel, the address the police had on file went back to a location in the city of Yokohama which was close by to Meguro. It was Touka’s parents home that she’d given, but according to them, the girl had left as soon as she was 18 and never contacted them again. Obviously, she’d given the address to lead them away from her current location. There were more questions than answers at this point and frustrating to everyone involved.

Was it possible that Touka had attended Meguro Nihon University high school along with he and Gray? Is that why she still lived so close to it? It wasn’t uncommon for students to attend high schools away from home if the curriculum offered was what the student was interested in. That’s why he’d chosen the school, but luckily it was still in his hometown. But no matter how much he tried, Natsu couldn’t remember ever seeing a girl that looked like Touka. She may look different now, but could it really be so drastic that he wouldn’t remember her? Then again, he hadn’t paid much attention to the opposite sex back then so it’s highly possible he’d missed her.

He received a call from Levy letting him know that after further digging, Gajeel was able to narrow down the apartment number and building address, confirming what the tracking site already told them. The phone number they had on file for Touka was also turned off, so they couldn’t reach her, but did confirm the Instagram post along with the previous incident will be used as probable cause to search the woman’s apartment. The wheels of justice were slow, but at least it was finally moving. If only they’d taken the couples concerns more seriously, Touka may not have had an opportunity to kidnap Lucy. Gajeel is pushing his supervisors to move quickly under the circumstances, but in order to make sure the charges stick, everything needed to be done by the book. The warrant was being signed as they spoke and Natsu was warned to be careful. If he located the right place, to not go in unless he felt Lucy’s life was in imminent peril, because no one knew what Touka was capable of.

No average citizen could plan for situations like, and Natsu certainly had no experience to help him figure out what to do or not to do. Should he wait for the police to arrive? Should he just barge in? What if he does and it only makes things worse? If Touka was in love with him, would she attack him too? It was certainly a possibility. Nobody can fully understand what a person is willing to do when their mind is crazed, and such uncertainties are the most dangerous of situations.

It felt so uncomfortable being back on his home turf under these circumstances. Definitely not the homecoming he’d wish upon anyone. There were six blocks from the station to the apartment building, so in order to get there quicker Natsu hailed a taxi. As he stared out the window, eyes narrowed, calculating, seeing all the familiar landmarks, again his anger built up. How dare Touka stain his memories of Meguro like this! A convenience store they’d shop at, the nursery school his little sister attended, or the high school he loved so much... He’ll never be able to come home again without remembering this is also where Lucy had been kidnapped and brought to.

The streets were empty, silent and still if not for the occasional car passing through. Amber streetlights illuminated the way. Natsu has the taxi drop him off around the corner from the apartment building, just in case Touka was watching for them. The woman had to assume that her actions would bring consequences. As he gets closer, Natsu assesses the three-story building. It was nondescript and open with no visible security gates or guards, just a single stairwell leading to the upper floors. According to Gajeel, Touka’s apartment was number 206 on the second floor. So, he slips cautiously along the building’s exterior to hide his presence as best as he could and ascends the staircase, soft steps to negate any sounds from his shoes. Number 206 was the last apartment on the second floor which meant he had to pass by five others. These poor people had no idea what was going on right beside them.

Natsu gently leans up to Touka’s front door, pressing his ear against the solid wood to listen for any evidence that Lucy was indeed inside. He could hear light sobbing between a low and somewhat muffled conversation. Ugh! He couldn’t tell who the voices were coming from! No— wait... okay it is Lucy inside! Natsu quickly typed out a text to Levy confirming the woman was alive and the address was on point, to which Levy responded with Gajeel was on the way with a warrant.

But the longer Natsu listened, the louder the voices inside were becoming, angrier and growing desperate...

“No! Please don’t kill me!!!”

His eyes widen instantaneously like a shot of instant adrenaline. That was Lucy! And the panic her voice screamed immediate. Without a moment of hesitation or thought, Natsu grabbed the door handle. Fuck! It was locked! He takes a step back and front-kicked the door as hard as he could, once, twice in quick succession around the locks. After the second hit, the door starts to give way, so he hauled back and gave it a third, then a shoulder. He didn’t care if he broke a bone or dislocated his shoulder because all he could think about was getting in there right now! With a final roar, Natsu slammed his body into the door. Wood goes flying as the frame gives way and the door swings open, the momentum causing him to stumble forward onto his knees.

“Nat—.”

Lucy’s scream is cut short and as Natsu looked up, he sees Touka standing behind Lucy with one arm around her body and a knife being held to her throat. Lucy’s hands and ankles were bound in front of her, shaking and fists clenching in a panicked agitation. All the blood drained from his face. One wrong move and Lucy was dead.

“T-Touka...” Natsu scrambled to his feet and put his hands up. “Just stay calm. D-Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 3: Puzzle Wrapped in an Enigma 

by @dracusfyre

On the way back home after the brothel closed, Bucky logged into Discord and dropped into a channel labeled only with random numbers and letters. First day of work was :thumbs up:  but there were two dudebros who tried to jam up my shit. Wish they would back off, he wrote. The channel was monitored 24/7 in case of emergency or actionable intel.

He waited as the dots danced, then his police handler wrote, that sucks. who are they?

Bucky typed the last four of Rumlow and Rollins’ badge numbers and put his phone back in his pocket. This operation was way more important than those two swinging dicks; between the video from tonight, which was going to be a PR nightmare for the department, and his request, Rumlow and Rollins better be manning a desk for the foreseeable future.

He was pulling out his keys to his apartment building when he heard a car door opening nearby. His head whipped around and his other hand was already on the pistol in the holster at the small of his back when he heard, “Whoa there Blue Eyes,” in a familiar voice. The figure that stepped out of the car held his hands up and stepped into the light.  “Hard day at the office?”

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky said warily.

“How’d everything go today?” Stark shoved his hands in his pocket and leaned against his car, the streetlight casting harsh shadows on his face.

“Fine. Didn’t KT give you a debrief?”

“Yeah, I heard his side. I wanna hear your side.”

Bucky thought about it, wondering if he should put a shine on it or be honest. “KT and Hawkeye’s play tonight was clever and would have worked perfectly against a different set of cops. But I think those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. Might have made more problems than they solved.”

“Yeah?” Stark tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You sure about that? KT's been on the job for a few years now and thought it was a good call. It's your first day and you saw the cops for all of fifteen minutes.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve met guys like them before. Don't strike me as the type to know when they're beat. Best thing would be for them to be encouraged to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Stark made a thoughtful noise. “But KT explained office policy on that?”

“Yeah. Only as a last resort.” Bucky tried to sound neutral, but something of his skepticism must have bled through.

“You don’t agree?”

The note in Stark’s voice put Bucky on high alert. Higher alert, since his heart was still racing from before. “I get the logic, it’s just…different,” Bucky said. “Makes sense though. Bodies attract attention.”

“Is that the only reason you think it's a good policy?” Stark asked neutrally.

Bucky hesitated. He got the feeling there was a right and wrong answer to this and wished this conversation had happened six hours ago when he was less tired. “Killing people changes things,” he said finally - honestly - hoping he wasn’t about to touchy-feely himself out of this operation. Between the military, the police, and then undercover work with organized crime, he had been so steeped in machismo that it had become second nature – to those guys, life was one big dick measuring contest - but Stark didn’t seem to work like that. Or at least, he didn't want people to think he worked like that. “Not just changes people, but like…it sends a message to everyone else. ‘This is what a life is worth.’” Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Stark.  “People respond to that. Makes them…mean. Hard. So if you can avoid that...” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. He probably sounded ridiculous. “So, yeah. Anyway. Guess if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Seems to be working for you.”

“We do alright,” Stark said slowly, and Bucky figured he must have said the right thing because he straightened and held out a hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky looked at it with surprise and took it, feeling acutely aware of the strength of Stark’s grip and the callouses on his palms. “Welcome aboard.”

                                               ***

Tony got back in his car as Blue Eyes continued into his building, cranking it and pulling away from the curb on autopilot. If Blue Eyes hadn’t been a cop, Tony would have told himself that he was too good to be true; as it was, Tony wondered if it was possible that the police or feds or whoever had profiled him well enough to give “Brooks” a gold plated script to work from. But it hadn’t felt like the new guy was playing him tonight; his comments had been too rambling and inarticulate to have been prepared in advance. Rhodey was going to think he was an idiot, but he really though Brooks was being honest with him tonight, which had the potential to change things.

At the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone and texted Rhodey.

I like him.

Rhodey sent a rolling eyes emoji almost immediately. Blue Eyes?

Yeah I want to keep him. he’s wasted as a cop.

The three dots must have started and stopped a dozen times; Tony was almost back to his own place when he finally got a response. You’re playing with fire.

Tony smirked. I know, he wrote back. It’s what I do.

Yeah, but this time, if you get burnt, we all do. Tony pulled into his private garage and turned off the car, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. Rhodey was right. As much as he was intrigued by Blue Eyes, he couldn’t put his people at risk by tugging on that thread. “Dammit,” he said out loud, scowling as he got out of the car. “Ten years ago I wouldn't have thought twice.”

                                             ***

A few weeks into the operation Bucky and KT were making the rounds, checking in with the businesses and people on their beat, and Bucky was suddenly struck by two things: one, just how much this gig felt like being a street cop, walking the sidewalks just observing the neighborhood; and two, how no one was ever this happy to see him when he was a street cop. People saw KT and more often than not, they were smiling, chatty about business and local gossip. Most of them greeted Bucky (“Oh, this must be Blue Eyes,” which had yet to stop making Bucky’s ears burn) and were happy to introduce themselves. The ones that weren’t smiling were the ones that had something to complain about: permit not going through, shipment delayed, broken equipment that insurance wasn’t paying out for. KT took notes, nodded and commiserated, and when they left almost everyone looked at least mollified, if not cheered.

“You know, for us playing the bag men today, we sure aren’t picking up any money,” Bucky commented. A couple of times KT had taken a store owner to the side and Bucky, straining his ears, heard something about loans; these people always had the look of someone explaining why they couldn’t pay but it wasn’t their fault, honest. Like everything else, KT made notes and listened politely.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” KT said. “This is check in. We do it every two weeks or so. Money stuff is all handled online.”

“Yeah?” Bucky knew for a fact that the FBI had been working with the Treasury to trace Stark’s money, and, failing to find any signs of dirty money or money laundering, had concluded he must be operating with cash only.

“Yeah. Boss didn’t want to tempt anyone or make them a target.” That was smart, Bucky reflected. Ripping off other gangs was an art form in organized crime. Still, he had to wonder how Stark kept the money transfers so well hidden from the best financial analysts in the US government.

“No targets except his accountant,” Bucky joked, fishing for info. “Like with Al Capone.”

KT just shrugged at that, like he didn’t know and didn’t care, so Bucky left it alone. “So what do we do with that stuff?” Bucky said, gesturing at the notebook KT had been writing in all morning.

“We take care of it.” He took the notebook out and flipped through it. “Not too much stuff this time.”

Bucky turned that over in his head. “So under the Mechanic, fixers actually…fix things,” he said. “You’re really going to call a shipping company and an insurance office and everything?”

“Yep. Well, we are.”

Made sense; if businesses were paying Stark for protection, he could also throw in other services to sweeten the pot and keep people from rolling on him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and was lost in thought while he mostly followed KT around the neighborhood. Granted he’d only been here for less than a week, but so far nothing was adding up to what he’d read in the case files on Stark and his organization. It was making him uneasy. He’d come here with a picture in his head, and a goal of filling in the holes so they could make a case against an organized crime boss; but now he was increasingly realizing that something was wrong with the picture. So when KT told him one night that they had the next two days off, Bucky sent another message on the Discord channel and when he got a confirmation, he went to the New York Library, the big one with the stone lions and millions of tourists. He went to the adult services desk and asked for a laptop. The librarian studied his ID, went to a safe, and handed him a laptop from inside. Bucky found a study carrell in a quiet spot and logged on with an 8 character name and 16 character password, established and memorized before he’d started this operation, and opened up the case files on Stark.

Scrolling through, Bucky felt some of his disquiet ease as he re-read the laundry list of crimes Stark was reportedly involved in: racketeering, tax fraud, illegal gambling, high-end car theft. Armed obberies; he opened up the file on robberies and realized with morbid amusement that even while Stark protected his own people from being targeted, he had no problem targeting bagmen from other gangs, making off with hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. Tax fraud, obviously; if Tony was hiding all of his income from the FBI, he was definitely hiding it from the IRS. Though as he opened up Stark’s tax statements, gotten from a subpoena to the IRS, and noticed that the document for just one year was hundreds of pages long, Bucky reflected that a good accountant could hide a lot of money in his legitimate businesses and all the assets that Stark had inherited from his parents.

At the back of the file was sex trafficking, which was based on a handful of reports that said that prostitutes were disappearing from other parts of the city and showing up working for Stark. Bucky put a note next to that one recommending the line of investigation be dropped. After spending hours and hours at the brothel chatting to the Widow and the ladies there, waiting to see if Rumlow returned, he knew none of the men or women there were being forced to stay, not even for lack of other work. Widow recruited from all around the city, helping people get out of the business if they wanted to and offering others a chance to work for her. Turns out, most of that building was devoted to the people who worked in the brothel: everyone got their own apartment, which was separate from the suites they entertained clients, and there was an in-house doctor and even childcare in the basement. All the money went straight back to the sex workers, except for this mysterious buy-in that no one had explained yet, and they were using it for a bewildering array of side projects that the women were more than happy to talk about during their down time.

After a few hours, which included writing up his reports from the past few weeks of working for Stark, Bucky sat back and closed the laptop. It was his first month, he reminded himself. No one was going to let him close to the real work of the organization after just a few weeks. He sent another message to his handler on Discord, and when he got a confirmation back, he stood up and walked away from the carrell; when he was about twenty feet away, he saw his police contact, dressed like a soccer mom, come by and spirit the laptop away.

His next stop was the gym; by the time he was done, shirt soaked wet with sweat and muscles aching, his head felt clearer.  He didn’t know why Stark was trying so hard to seem like a good guy, but if Bucky was patient enough he’d scrape past all the pseudo-philanthropy and get to the real man underneath. Stark wasn’t the first guy to be handsome and charming and charismatic while hiding a dark side.

[stufftippywrote]

Not My Type (fake dating AU) part 3

Part one | Part two

Help

He texts Lardo as soon as he can get free. It takes a handful of "no comment"s and some apologetic nods, but eventually the reporters lose the fire in their eyes, everyone goes back to being their dignified banquet selves, and he can fight his way out into the hallway.

Out here, the lights are lower, and the sounds of music and people are muffled through the wall. It's something of a respite for Jack, who sometimes gets caught up in scenes like this; too much around him and nothing to focus on, no object for him to put up tunnel vision around and block out everything else. In a crowded stadium, there's the puck, the feel of the ice under his blades. At a party like this, there's ... nothing. Just light and sound and too many people.

An answer finally comes from Lardo. Why help?

I don't know what to do. His thumbs feel huge and clunky on the thin skin of the phone.

Did you meet him?

He just manages to hit the Y key and the send button when he's interrupted by the clearing of a tenor throat.

Bitty -- Eric, Jack tries to correct himself, but Bitty really seems to fit much better -- is standing there, bowtie a little askew. He's glaring a little -- not full-on mad, just sober and determined. Jack feels the stare like it's the crack of a whip. He straightens up.

"Mr. Zimmermann, isn't it?" Bitty says. Jack nods. "Well, Mr. Zimmermann, I must have scoured every inch of that room for you."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm--" He's stating the obvious like an idiot. "I've been out here."

"Do you want to keep doing this or not?" Bitty asks. "Are we done? I'm trying to help you out, but if you'd rather I don't, I have dishes to wash."

A pang of regret stings Jack. That's right, this guy is doing him a favor. It's for one night, and then he never has to see him again. "Right," he says, "Sorry."

His phone vibrates in his head. He looks down to see the text from Lardo:

Then, **flirt.**

Jack clears his throat and meets Bitty's eyes. "Do you ... want to dance?"

----

There are murmurs and a few more camera flashes as they make their way to the dance floor. It's not much of a dance floor; a jazz trio is doing old standards and only a handful of couples are old-style dancing, having polite conversations as they sway and turn in slow circles.

Jack reaches for Bitty, takes his shoulder instead of his waist because of the difference in their heights. It feels odd -- it's not the way he danced with girls in middle school, before juniors. Come to think of it, that may be the last time he danced, period.

Bitty seems to think nothing of it. He lays his fingertips lightly on Jack's waist, a barely-there touch, and offers his other hand. Jack reaches out to take it, but Bitty smiles -- a half-smile, coy as the moon behind a cloud -- and holds it back a moment. "Are you sure?" he half-teases. "Not too much?"

Jack's answer is to take firm hold of his hand and swing them around before relaxing into the rhythm of the music. If he's going to have to do this, he'll do it right.

Several bars of music go by, the two of them just sort of swaying there like a pair of reeds. It's awkward. It's so awkward. Bitty's smiling, but it's a fake smile now, for the benefit of those around them. Jack doesn't even think to smile himself. He tries to concentrate on the one-two-three-four of the music.

"Well," Bitty says through the false smile, "you're going to have to talk to me, sweetheart. Or at least smile. If you want them to buy this."

Jack shakes himself. "Um. Yeah. Sorry." He tries to smile, but it feels even faker than Bitty's. "So, Lard-- I mean, Larissa told you the situation?"

"Yes, I heard all about it." Bitty pauses. "It's brave, what you did."

"I -- thank you." Jack's heard that before, and he's not sure what to do with it. He's not doing this to look like a hero. The whole point is it shouldn't take bravery to say who you are.

"I mean it!" Some genuineness seems to warm the everpresent smile, a softness in Bitty’s nut-brown eyes. "If there'd been someone like you when I was growing up, maybe-- well, maybe I could have gotten into hockey."

"Not a fan, eh?" Jack may be stereotyping, but he's not surprised. Bitty doesn't exactly look the part of a hockey fan.

"It's so violent." Bitty actually shudders. Jack can feel him tremble. "But I was never into contact sports. I barely made it through peewee football."

There's something about that visceral reaction that tickles Jack. At least this guy is reasonably easy to talk to, when he's not smooching people out of the blue. "Why'd you agree to do this?"

"A favor for Larissa," Bitty shrugs, his shoulder rising slightly against Jack's hand. "She's the one who got me into this catering gig. Truth is, this is a side hustle. I own a little bakeshop down near the river, but it barely breaks even. So I owed her one for getting me into the black. Besides--"

He cuts off, smile disappearing, and a bit of color touches his cheeks. "Oh, gosh, listen to me ramble on."

"Besides what?"

"Nothing, I'm just going off at the mouth, never mind me."

Jack frowns. "Now I want to know."

Bitty exhales noisily. "She might have told me you were my type. Which you're not," he adds pointedly.

At this, Jack has to crack a smile. "Hah! You're not my type either."

But is that really true? The longer Jack dances with Bitty, the more familiar and pleasant the feel of his hand becomes. His shoulder's corded muscle underneath Jack's hands, and while he talks a blue streak, Jack doesn't hate the sound of his voice. And there's something about the way his chin turns up, the angle of his face just now...

"Well! As long as we're clear," Bitty says with a smile that's half-mean. "And it's just for tonight, anyway. I don't know what she thought she was setting up here. I only agreed to one evening."  He sniffs haughtily, then grins.

"I appreciate it," Jack offers, unsure what else to say. So that crushes that almost-hope, just now. Bitty's declared this a one-shot. Anything else Jack might have started to feel is immaterial.

"Look, Mr. Zimmermann..." Bitty's gaze drops to the floor. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I surprised you like that. I thought for sure Larissa would have told you what I'm like."

"No." He imagines no warning could have prepared him for that initial greeting, though. "It's okay, though. You were trying to do your job."

"And I've learned my lesson." Bitty lets Jack sway him through a half-turn. "See? I'm letting you lead."

He is letting Jack lead, and Jack wonders what he can get away with. Spinning him around? Dipping him? He has a feeling Bitty would be up to all of it.

And for a moment, what Jack really wants to do -- just for a moment -- is to pull Bitty closer. Just to see what he'd do. To see the way Bitty's body feels against his own. To see if he could slide his thumb across Bitty's collarbone to his neck, tilt that chin up just a little further -- see if he couldn't really make the papers talk about him --

Jack shakes himself out of it. Where did that come from? It's not like him at all, to think these things, and he wonders if he had a little too much wine tonight. Besides. He already knows he's not Bitty's type.

-----

After the song ends, and Bitty returns to tend to his catering duties, the night drags on long and boring. Jack doesn't know many people here, and the small talk with those he does know dries up fast. But Jack lingers. If he can't do anything more, he can at least give Bitty the proper thanks for what he's done for him tonight.

He finally catches up with him as the last of the attendees start to file out. "Thanks for tonight," he says, reaching out a hand to shake.

Bitty grabs his hand and holds on. "They're still watching," he says with a glint of amusement in his voice. "Look like you like me."

"I -- yeah, I guess they are." Jack casts his gaze to the side; not many people are left, but those who are there are certainly looking. He takes Bitty's other hand. "Anyway, I'm leaving. And I wanted to say thank you."

"Well, you're welcome," Bitty says, "but I have to admit it's gonna be a relief to slink off back to anonymity. People looking at you so much! How do you handle it? I have creepie-crawlies all up on my skin." He shudders and makes a face that Jack can't help but laugh at.

"Anyway. I just wanted to say good night. And thanks again."

"Mr. Zimmermann." There's something sober in Bitty's eyes, but also something teasing. A spark inside a storm. "We should probably say good night like a couple."

"Like a-- oh." Heat blossoms behind Jack's cheeks. "You mean--"

"Don't worry," Bitty says, "it'll be over quickly."

"I -- yes." The heat is itching up into his scalp now. "Okay." He closes his eyes and braces himself.

The second that follows is excruciatingly long. He expects the sensation on his cheek again, wetness and pressure. At least he's expecting it this time.

But what comes is light as a feather, settling on his mouth ike the whisper of a butterfly. It's sweet, and impossibly soft, and for less than an instant Jack's tasting it, dying to reach out for more.

It ends before he's ready. Bitty pulls back, and Jack looks at him with blank eyes, lips tingling and the taste of sugar inexplicably on his tongue.

"Real couples don't kiss on the cheek," Bitty informs him. "Well, I think we've sold it pretty good now. Have a good life, Mr. Zimmermann! I hope I was helpful."

Jack's tongue is heavy, leaden in his mouth. His lips slowly part. "Yes. Uh. Thank you."

And then Bitty turns blithely away and heads back to his work, and that's it. It's all over. And, just as planned, Jack will never see him again.

He wishes that thought didn't make him feel quite so sad.

Part Four