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t-tomuras · 7 days

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⚡︎ ─── •𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x Mouse Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Reader is an escort, Denki has trauma, alcohol, teasing, slight pussyjob, slight anal play, creampie, mention of pegging

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: SUCH a fun character to write and it's for none other than my sweet @saturnsorbits

Everyone has their vices, some people gambled, blurred their minds in a drug addled haze or drank themselves into a stupor.

Denki’s was his desire for company, his need to be wanted and adored but not how the general public admired him as the hero he was. Craving something more organic and less reverent.

Even if he had to pay for it.

He’s certain his teenage self would be reeling over the change in views, but war did that to a man; especially experiencing it as a boy instead.

Life was more peaceful now, the occasional villain in the streets for him to stop but nothing compared to his first year of highschool. Now Kaminari just felt like he was a decoration in the street, plastering a broad smile on his face as he waved.

He adored the attention, the appreciation, everything that came with his profession but where was it when he was in the sanctity of his home? Why was there no solace in silence?

No dopamine rush even as he scrolled various social media timelines, each one holding a plethora of thirst traps and fan edits of candid photos of Denki.

It only worsened the feeling of derealization, exacerbated the dehumanization he felt as a figure for the public eye.

Nobody ever told him it’d be like this, had anything changed since he’d listened to the villains speeches about how rotten society was? Was it different just because he was on the other side of the spectrum?

He decides not to think about it, slamming his phone face down onto his bedside table as he paced around his room for discarded clothing. Stepping into his leather pants that fit like a second skin before donning a loose off the shoulder, distressed style white shirt. Clipping the fringe that falls into his face back with a black headband, hiding his telltale onyx bolt of lightning in his electric blond mop. Completing the ensemble with tinted shades despite the hour of night but his favorite bar district was plenty bright.

Abandoning his phone for the night, like he does every time he needs a break from doom scrolling, as he carries himself down familiar blocks in long strides.

The nightlife is bustling, as it always is even for the middle of the week. Businessmen still clutching their briefcases with loosened ties already calling it a night to their cohorts as they go separate ways, returning to their wives. Scattered groups of university students and young women just looking to blow off some steam lingering in the streets, though the clumps of people grew sparse the further into the district you delved.

Hands shoved deep into his pockets, head slightly ducked as Denki seemingly traveled by muscle memory alone until he stood at an innocuous bar you had to take steps down into. A hole in the wall in every sense of the word but the interior decor contrasted that notion heavily.

Vaulted ceilings outfitted with crystal chandeliers but the establishment remained dimly lit, crushed velvet curtains covering windows that were far from functional and every man and woman employed there

The bar didn’t even have a sign out front for the ultimate level of discretion, Denki knew multiple heroes frequented this pub as well but he’d never tell; he could only hope the feeling was mutual.

The tabloids would kill for that headline afterall, every time he sets foot on the lush carpeting it comes to mind. “Pro-hero Chargebolt look’s for love in all the wrong places.”

What would Shoji, more specifically, think of him now if he knew how particular his tastes were? Would this be considered exploitative? He never paid them for sex or sexual favors but he wouldn’t turn them down if they tried in the alleyway or cab back to the agency at the end of the ‘date’ before he called night. Heteromorphs still being one of the most marginalized people based on their quirks despite all the work his friend did after the war, after all.

He liked to think he was respectful, he only paid for their company, for them to treat him like Denki Kaminari and not top twenty in the hero ranking charts, Chargebolt, or Kamino Wards most eligible bachelor.

He shakes his head, has to nip the thoughts in the bud as he slides into one of the stools at the bar nestled in a secluded corner of the room. In a stool with one other soul next to him when he orders his first drink.

You.

You sit quietly next to him for a good minute, long enough for him to finish his first drink while you nurse your own, spinning around the little black straw you were given so you wouldn’t smear lipstick all over their precious glasses.

Keen ears flicking every time you hear him take a drink, every thick swallow of liquor you know should be burning his throat despite the low hum of conversation from the rest of the room.

Jolting slightly at the sound of glass hitting the hardwood bar top followed by his hiss before Denki turns his lower body towards you. Twisting his body in his seat as he leans cooly after calling for another two drinks, his own and whatever you’re nursing despite not even being half finished with it.

“Your ice is melted,” your ears twitch again before you finally turn to him as well, clutching at your drink as a new glass is slid towards you by the tender.

“Figured it was time for a new one, unless you like watered down drinks instead,” tone playful and intentionally disarming. You let your own eyes take up his body and he grins but the expression doesn’t meet his eyes when he reaches for his third drink.

He doesn’t give you a moment to respond, swallowing quickly as if he’s realized something, “oh you’re probably not supposed to drink too much on the clock huh?”

“How did you know?” Thinly veiled defensive tone, you’d just barely managed to school your features to keep from scowling at him.

“They value their discretion but they only hire hybrids as escorts,” commented calmly as he takes another sizable swig of his drink, chuckling as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, “it must be your first day.”

Denki makes it increasingly difficult for you to control your initial reactions, inherently uncomfortable with a man having an easy time reading you especially in this line of work. You’d only taken this gig because it paid well and you were assured you wouldn’t have to fuck any creep you didn’t want to as well as decent security to assure your safety.

You try to compose yourself a bit, crossing your legs as you pull down the hem of your dress, tail wrapping around your calf comfortingly as your lips purse around the little straw to sip cutely at your drink, “and what makes you so sure it’s my first day?”

He chortles at that, bringing his glass to his lips before snorting once more with a shake of his head, “you just look like this is the last place you wanna be, is all.”

“Maybe I’m just not that interested in you,” scoffed slightly but without any real malice as your lean your cheek against your curled knuckles, “would all that hero ‘people reading’ bullshit tell you that about me, Chargebolt?”

You eat up the way he looks struck, eyes widening minutely and his lips parting around a quiet exhale as he lowers his drink once again. Before he starts laughing. Genuine laughter, cute and boyish in nature despite how he’s now pushing his thirties and it makes your heart race. The sound of it is inherently different from the practiced reactions he displays for the cameras and impromptu interactions with fans in the streets.

It takes a moment for his laughter to subside, knuckle wiping at a tear along his lashline as if he hadn’t laughed like that in who knows how long, “ya caught me, darlin, how’d you know?”

“Did you think sunglasses and clipped back hair would make you unrecognizable or are you just used to everyone playing dumb when you

That takes him aback and you cringe at your own harsh tone, clutching your drink tighter as you glance around just in case your handler was still lingering close by before boisterous laughter pulls your attention once more. Expression softening at how vulnerable he looks when your gaze falls back to him, placing your hand over his to gently ask for his attention.

“The real Denki seems like he’d be a lot more fun than the Kaminari every piece of media tries to push, so how about we try again,” he looks at you curiously as you give him a soft smile, glass raised and held out between you both, “what’s your name handsome?”

Denki laughs again, nose scrunching cutely as he raises his glass to clink delicately against yours, “Kaminari, Denki Kaminari.”

He doesn’t do this, he’s never done this before, never brought an escort back to his own house.

You’d asked him for his number, he’d told you he’d left his home and you knew by his awkward groping at himself for it and the nervous twitch to his lip that he was telling the truth; even before he tried to swear to you he wasn’t lying. Quelling his descent into pitiable promises and attempts to prove that this wasn’t some ploy to take you home as you tell him you’ve no qualms about his sincerity.

Assuring him with a sweet tone and sway of your tail that made his heart skip a beat when you read him to filth for the second time that night, “I know, you’re a terrible liar.”

So how you got here, hungry kisses and fevered pawing before Denki’s able to stumble you both over the threshold to his humble home, you’re unsure. Maybe it was the way he’d switched your positions on the sidewalk so he was the one nearest oncoming traffic or the way he’d pulled you closer protectively and glared at a group of drunkards overtly ogling you.

Maybe it was how easily you made him laugh, whole bellied laugh, over some of the shitty dates horror stories you’d regaled him with and he shared in turn before the topic got heavier the closer to his home you got.

Asking him why he frequents the bar enough for you to know he was a repeat client from how the bartender served a specific drink after a single cursory glance.

It made Denki’s heart race, to be so obviously seen the way you’ve seen him tonight, it made sharing with you easy. Everyone already knew he’d fought in the war as a teenager but, surprisingly enough, he gives you the grittier details. The death, the mangling of his idols and classmates, how it all seems glamorized to Denki now ten years later.

And then the way you held him in your hands when he seemed to get riled up, knuckles white in clenched fists that eased when you slipped your fingers into his hand while you held his face with the other. Grounding him in that moment and the way the street lamps backlit you, painted you with an ethereal glow, you looked more like an angel to him.

He had to kiss you, and again whenever you’d make that cute squeak of surprise before melting into the exchange. Chaste brushes of one another lips quickly devolving into chasing contact, tentatively tongue swiping on Denki’s part past the seam of your lips to get a better taste of you. Mumbling an apology intermittently about the taste of alcohol on his own before commenting how he likes the honied undertones of the gloss layered over the lipstick he ruins.

Everything about you was so enchanting, so naturally alluring to him. It was easy for him to get lost in you like this, fumbling for the keys to his front door because he refused to untangle from you. Finally pressing your back against the door for some stability until he conquers the pesky lock and you both stumble into the privacy of his home.

Denki kicks the door shut behind him before flipping your positions to pin you against the sturdy wood. Crowding your space as he grows bold, hand venturing between your thighs and stifling a borderline whine that catches in his throat at the dampness he finds. Rewarding you with delicious friction as his fingers drag along your clothed slit until you’ve had enough of the teasing.

Tail wrapping around his wrist tightly as the heel of his palm grinds into your sensitive clit and his fingers sneak beneath the seam of your lacy panties to delve into your sopping entrance as if he’d even dream of pulling away from you.

Besides pushing your dress up higher around your hips as he slots his thigh between yours to give you steady friction while he works the material the rest of the way off. Your tail only unwinding from his forearm long enough for the garment to be shed before you’re pushing at his own clothing.

Bodies turning again as lithe digits work at the button and zipper of his pants while Denki lavishes your throat in open mouthed kisses as he walks you blindly. Expertly guiding you through familiar surroundings and into his room by the time you’ve pushed his pants low enough for him to step out of before the backs of your knees hit his mattress.

Saved from tipping backwards by the electric blond alone as both hands palm at the fat of your ass while your tail wraps around his upper thigh to keep it out of the way. Feeling his hard cock pressed against your mound while Denki fingers tease at your entrance and play with slick folds as he nips playfully at the sensitive cartilage of your ear.

Whispering a low, ‘do you have a condom?’ that you don’t catch at first, focus divided between the feel of him pressed against you and wiggling your hips hoping for even the moderate stretch of his fingers before he asks again.

“I don’t have one, do you have a condom?”

It’s almost jarring, forcing you to focus more in order to respond before you opt to simply cradle his jaw in your hands and seal your lips over his while your free hand grips at the base of his shaft. Pumping languidly as you go for another searing kiss, swallowing the groan you pull from him before you part, tugging his lower lip between your teeth gently.

“Does it really matter that much right now? When we’re already naked?” Purred in a sultry coo as your thumb rolls over his leaking tip, spreading his pre down his sensitive head and throbbing shaft.

“Not at all,” chirped before he flips you around and guides you forward, your hands and knees dipping in the mattress before you crawl towards the center. Denki’s chest pressed against your back as he slots himself against you perfectly.

Cock gliding through your folds, thick tip kissing your clit with each rut that’s soon punctuated by sweet pitchy keens from plush lips until he catches on your entrance. Obviously eager to fill you now himself because Denki’s hips begin to push forward until the soft clap of his pelvis against your ass can be heard. Resuming the stimulation you vocally approved of as he reaches his hand between you and the pillow top, ring and middle fingers rolling methodical circles into your puffy nub.

Dipping your chest to the mattress as you grip at the pillows haphazardly arranged at the end of the bed, only somewhat muffling your moans but Denki hears them clearly. Feeds off of them, grinning as he ruts into you before laughing breathlessly at the way your walls convulse around his cock as you mewl once more.

Leaning down as his lips leave a blazing trail from the nape of your neck to the juncture of your jaw.

“Pretty noisy for a mouse,” playful and fun, twirling your tail in the opposite direction he swirls his fingers around your clit, lips against your thrumming pulse point as humid breaths dampen the skin of your throat.

You’re not sure if the electricity you feel with every roll of his fingers in time with the rut of his hips is from the pleasure he provides or from his infamous quirk. You’re not sure you really care as you melt in his hold, mind going pleasantly numb as your grip on downy pillows tightens.

Muffling your mewls into the plush material, arch of your back worsening as Denki strokes along the sensitive base before you no longer feel his comfortable weight against you. Suddenly very empty, turning to look back at him just as Denki pulls your ass further into the air by it.

Leaky tip still teasingly gliding through your folds the same way Bakugou always brags about with his own spouse before Kaminari catches on your entrance.

The insufficient stretch has you jolting forward as your hands splay out on the headboard, pushing yourself backwards and sinking him further into your sopping cunt with a throaty groan.

Surprising Denki in turn, choking on a curse as his fingers quickly grab at the fat of your ass. Bead of sweat rolling down his temple with a wavering smile and furrowed brows marring handsome features as the confident facade falters, muttering a lame ‘whoa..’ when you take him to the base in one push.

Choking on his own spit when you rock backwards into him, finding your own pace as your head lolls backwards with breathy sighs bordering sweet moans.

Using Denki for your own pleasure now and it makes him throb, uselessly gripping at you and bucking out of sync at first until you whine.

Twisting to face him slightly as your hand splays out just beneath his navel, cute face crunched in mild frustration. Furrow of your only fading, plush lips pursing into a pretty ‘o’ when he grasps your hint and slows the rolls of his hips in time with the rhythm you set, “like that Denki, just like that.”

Thumb spreading you further, pulling gently at the skin of your cheek so he can watch with rapt attention how you’re stretched around him, how your greedy cunt grips him like you don’t want a moment of separation. Saliva pooling on his tongue Denki has to swallow thickly at how creamy rings gather at the base of his cock in time with how much more vocal you get.

He’s going to cum already from the slight alone, coil in his lower belly tight as his abdomen flexes beneath your fingertips.

Golden hues alight as a few subtle sparks of electricity dance in the air from his skin, literal shocks of pleasure heightening your experience and the pitchy keen he elicits from you is evidence enough.

In awe of how frantically you’re chasing your high, how you’re essentially using him as a human dildo and he’s loving every second of it. Feverishly chasing your climax, unabashed as you hiss and whimper in slight frustration before sitting up for a heightened sense of stimulation. Supporting yourself on the headboard but the sudden movement surprises him, thumb slipping past the tight ring into your ass and that’s the moment the coil snaps.

Loud moan reverberating against thin walls he’s sure his neighbors will complain about later as every muscle in your body tightens, twitching from the overwhelming euphoria.

Pulling Denki over the edge with you, white hot light clouding his vision as his fingers on your hip grip with a bruising force while he paints velvet walls in creamy white. He’d meant to pull out, meant to decorate your pretty skin since neither one of you had a condom but he’s glad he didn’t.

You’re warm, warmer than anything he’s ever experienced before and you’re pliant as you work your way down from cloud nine. Sitting up as Denki reflexively supports your body, pulling you until your back rests against his chest. Moving his hand to rest just below your diaphragm, hooking his chin on your shoulder as you both pant for breath.

“Wow..” Denki mutters against your dewy skin, keeping you pressed closely to him as you both regulate in your post ecstasy bliss. Kaminari laying a kiss to your trapezius muscle and then another at the column of your throat before resting his cheek on the ball of your shoulder so you can see him from the corner of your eye. Tired but cheeky smile lighting up his whole face as his fingers twirl the end of your tail, “do you wanna peg me next or is that a second date sort of thing?”

#vixen writes #denki x reader #denki x you #kaminari x reader #denki smut #denki kaminari x reader

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my-drama-heart2406 · 1 month

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So I was re-watching some old Vincenzo edits and some funny moments compilations on YouTube.

And I remembered that... Vincenzo is a complete cleanliness freak.

Like it's the very first episode, when he's travelling in the bus after he's drugged and robbed. And the women in the bus offer him a wet tissue. And unlike other kdrama male leads who don't really have problem with dirt, he actually looks at his reflection in the window and he's like "oh my god, my beautiful face", and wipes his face carefully with the tissue. Remember his, very understandable, disgust at the sticky something that gets on his hand in geumga plaza. And the first thing he does after entering the apartment is take a very thorough shower. Like he's literally scrubbing himself, lathered completely, head to toe.

And it's a recurring theme throughout the show. He likes to get things done without any mess. He tells he doesn't like the 'throwing pigs blood on enemy' thing. That he does for Chayoung. And even though he's lived rich most of his life, he's very particular about the things he owns. There's minimal blood on this clothes if ever. The only time his hands are actually bloody is after his mother's death. And the final day, when he knows he's going to take care of things you-know-how, he's wearing black.

My point is that... The, tiny but very visible, speck of blood when he came as Haein's lawyer was left there intentionally.

Knowing Vincenzo, that briefcase is custom made, from real leather and probably limited edition. There's no way in hell or heaven Vincenzo would ever leave a blood splattered on a custom made leather briefcase.

But something else that Vincenzo is also very fond of is theatrics.

And that's why the blood was there. It was probably not even real blood. Just something he, or more probably Chayoung, had put on that very morning for theatrics and special effects. The special effect being Hyunwoo and Yangi's nervousness the whole time and absolute fear and jumpscare at simply opening the briefcase.

I think it's completely canon that Vincenzo then went to Jipuragi and went straight to get warm water and a tissue to clean his bag and then was like, "Byeonhosanim, you'll never believe what this did today".

And Chayoung get's up from her table and comes sits beside him and Mr. Nam makes 3 cups of coffee and our Corn Salad tells them all about it.

#queen of tears #vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #song joong ki

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

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Somewhere to Belong | 3/3 | S.R

Part three of my Family Challenge fic.

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N - I am almost positive this is not how the adoption system works but hey, it’s fanfiction, I make my own rules.

Summary - You reveal your master plan to Spencer and the two of you begin on your journey together. Will you be able to help Spencer bring Wren home where she belongs? And when the time comes, will you have what it takes to walk away?

Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - confessed feelings, tears, mostly just domestic fluff, making out, allusions to sex but still SFW, crying child, swearing, happy ending.

WC - 9.4k

Part 3

The wheels of your plan had been slow turning, painfully so. You’d started to think you may never reach the end of this goddamn road.

But finally after months, all the pieces had fallen into place.

When you received the phone call you were already halfway out of the door before the person on the other end had even finished their sentence. It was the phone call you’d been waiting for, holding your breath every time the device rang.

And now it had happened, it was time to go and see him.

You drove out into the suburbs, a manilla folder full of paperwork in the passenger's seat. You parked next to the curb by the house with the canary yellow fence and green front door.

Before you could exit the car you saw the door open and Spencer let someone out the house. The women had a briefcase and wore a smart pants suit. Definitely a social worker.

You watched the woman head to her own car and once she was inside the vehicle and starting the engine you stepped out onto the street, bringing your folder with you.

As you headed for the yellow gate your phone buzzed in your pocket. Slowing your strides you retrieved it and read the text message on the screen.

📱 Spencer Reid: I think it’s over. There’s another couple who have shown interest in adopting Wren and I don’t think I can compete with that. I’m ok, I’m not craving or anything. I just wanted you to know.

You stuffed the device back in your pocket and looked up at the house, a single light coming from the downstairs window.

Since you’d accompanied him to Beltway, the two of you had been in touch more regularly. Spencer texted you nearly every day and you spoke on the phone fairly often.

You’d seen him a handful of times for coffee but you’d never been out to his home in Woodbridge. It was a really nice house, a family home just like the team had described to you. It was a complete one eighty from his old DC apartment.

You unhooked the gate and slid past it, hugging the folder to your chest as you made your way along the front path and up the steps.

Before you could talk yourself out of this, you knocked on the green front door.

Soon you heard it being unlocked and then it tentatively opened. Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he saw you.

“Y/N hi,” he opened the door slightly wider. “I just texted you.”

“I know, I was…in the neighbourhood?” You shrugged. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, stepping aside to allow you entrance to his home.

You walked inside while he shut the door behind you and you glanced around the living room.

You recognised his leather couch and armchair from his old apartment as well as his record player and chess set. The coffee table was the same but other than that this was not the home you pictured Spencer Reid living in.

He waited for you to take it in and only spoke again once you looked back at him.

“Can I get you a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m good.” You nodded, feeling oddly nervous.

He motioned for the couch and the two of you crossed the room together and sat side by side. You laid the manilla folder in your lap and ran your fingers over it.

“Whatcha you got there?” He asked, nodding at the file.

“Uh, well you see…” you trailed off, unable to find the words to communicate what you wanted to say. “How about you have a look.”

You handed him the file. For a moment he just stared at it with a frown before he cautiously took it from your hand.

He opened it and started one by one going through the pieces of paper inside.

The first was an application with a large red stamp proclaiming APPROVED in the bottom right corner. There were several sheaths that documented personal information about you, health checks, financial records, questions and answers relating to your childhood.

There was a rental agreement renewal for the address in which you lived which had gone unsigned as though you were hesitant in continuing your lease.

Multiple pages he’d seen before, floor plans of his own home, summaries of home visits at this address.

One sheet was a letter signed off by BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss agreeing to a cut in field hours. Two more sighed letters followed, both dictating what an upstanding human being you were, one signed by SSA Luke Alvez and the other Doctor Tara Lewis.

He read through them quickly as you knew he would but it still somehow felt like a lifetime before he was neatly tucking the pages away and closing the file. He looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed heavily.

“I don’t…” he swallowed, his hands starting to shake. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do.” You nodded. “You’re a genius aren’t you?”

“I…is this a joke?” His eyes flooded with unshed tears as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It would be a pretty cruel thing to joke about.” You shrugged.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, trying to push away his tears before they could fall.

“Just to confirm,” he swallowed thickly, his eyebrows still knitted together in his confusion. “Because I don’t want to misunderstand what’s happening here…”

“Spencer,” you placed your hand on his knee and he noticed you were shaking too. “I would do anything for you. Anything. If this can help you bring that little girl home, then I’ll do it.”

“You…you’ve gotten approval from the adoption agency.” He croaked.

“Yes.”

“You’ve done the interviews, cut down your hours at the BAU, not renewed your lease and had Alvez and Lewis write you character references.”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I still don’t think I’m ready for a family, Spencer. But I can sign on as Wren’s adoptive mother on paper, just so you can get her home. Once she’s home and the paperwork is finalised they can’t take her away from you. We can figure out all the rest once you’ve got her home, I can terminate my rights or whatever. But by then it won’t matter.”

“W-why would you…” he trailed off again, swallowing. “Why would you do that for me? That’s…crazy. Why would you want to go through all this trouble just so I can have a better chance of adopting Wren?”

You inhaled really deeply, your chest heaving as you did so. Spencer blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear the new batch of tears from his eyes.

“I should have said it back.” You mumbled with a shake of your head. “Months ago, you told me you loved me and I should have said it back. But instead I walked away and let you believe I didn’t feel that way about you. But I do. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t make that any less true. And if I can help you bring Wren home I will. Because I love you.”

The room fell silent while Spencer worked to comprehend everything that was happening. His head spun as though he was drunk, making it harder for him to understand all of this.

This couldn’t have been some idea you’d just come up with, weeks if not months of work had gone into this. You were willing, on paper at least, to be Wren’s adoptive mother when you weren’t ready to have kids.

You’d told Emily, Luke and Tara at the minimum of your plans. You were willing to give up your apartment, cut back your hours at a job you adored to help him. Because you loved him. You loved him so much you were willing to put his happiness before your own.

“It’s too much.” He shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do all of this.”

“Good job you never once asked then.” You smiled at him. “It’s all temporary. Once Wren is home I can pick back up my regular case load, I spoke to my landlord about subletting my apartment for a few months so I can move back in once everything is settled.”

“You plan to live here?” He suddenly made the connection.

“Well I’ve got to live somewhere. And you know, us living in the same house gives the impression of a happy couple who want to adopt a child, don’t you think? It won’t be forever.”

“What am I supposed to say to my social worker? I forgot to tell her that I had a partner?” Of course he’d try and pick holes in this, it was what Spencer Reid did best.

“We say we were together but I didn’t think I was ready for a family. But now I am. We tell them I met Wren and fell in love with her and now we want to adopt her together. It’s pretty much what I wrote in my application.” You’d considered every outcome, every bump in the road.

“But you haven’t met Wren.” He shook his head.

“So I will.” You chuckled. “Spence, stop trying to put blockers in the way when there aren’t any. Let me do this for you, please? Let me help you bring your little girl home.”

Spencer stared at you silently, blinking frantically as he tried to understand what was happening. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them dashed again but you seemed sincere.

He still didn’t understand how you would be willing to go to such lengths for him but he supposed it didn’t matter. What mattered was you were willing to and he could use all the help he could get.

Suddenly he threw himself forward, arms flying up to wrap around you. He pulled you close, holding you tightly as he started to loudly sob.

“T-thank you.” He cried into your shoulder as you returned his hug.

“You’re welcome, Spence. You’re so very welcome.”

You continued to hold him while he sobbed, stroking his back in an attempt to calm him. It was over a half hour later when he finally shed all of his tears, sniffed heavily and sat back to look at you.

“You really are my most favourite person.” He smiled shakily at you.

If you didn’t love him so much there was no way you would have even considered helping him adopt a child even if it was only on paper.

But love makes us do crazy things. And this might just be the craziest.

***

Two days later you anxiously sat in the passenger's seat of Spencer’s Volvo while he drove the two of you to Wren’s halfway home.

You played with your hands in your lap, barely speaking as you tried to comprehend meeting this little girl who had become Spencer’s whole world.

You’d agreed to tell Wren you were Spencer’s friend it was the truth and much less complicated than explaining everything to her. You would test the waters with her first, see how she felt about it before broaching it with the social worker.

Your legs wobbled a little as you got out of the car and Spencer was regarding you curiously.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, his fingers brushing across your knuckles.

“Yeah.” You forced a smile. “She means so much to you, I’m just worried she won’t like me.”

“She’s going to love you. Trust me.”

The look he was giving you made your stomach coil into knots. Your knees buckled and your heart yearned for him.

It was such a cruel world that you could be so in love with someone yet not be destined to each other.

As you started towards the building he slipped his hand in yours and it was so easy to pretend this wasn’t all for show.

He led you inside, saying his hellos to some of the people working in the halfway home, clearly he’d been here a lot. He carried on through to a larger room filled with kids of all ages, your heart bled for them all.

As your eyes cast around the room, you were quickly snapped back around when you heard someone calling Spencer’s name.

“Spencer! Spencer!”

You looked back just in time to see a head of dark curls you remembered from when you’d seen her sleeping on Spencer’s lap at the BAU running right towards the two of you.

He let go of your hand so he could outstretch his arms for the girl who happily fell into them.

“Missed you.” She tucked herself in his arms.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He sighed in content as he hugged her.

You watched the way he seemed to light up the moment Wren was nearby, how all the weight he carried on his shoulders slipped away. As he cuddled the five year old, he seemed at peace.

And you knew you were doing the right thing.

Wren stepped back from his embrace and looked up at you, head tilted to the side in a curious fashion and little dark eyebrows furrowed.

“Who are you?” She asked, pouting a little.

“This is my friend, Y/N.” Spencer spoke for you. “Y/N, this is Wren.”

“Why is she here?” Wren looked back at Spencer in concern.

“I thought you’d like to meet her.” Spencer’s tone completely changed when he spoke to her, you’d never heard him like it before.

It was soft and sweet, obviously it relaxed the young girl. Usually. But it was clear by the concerned expression in her face it wasn’t working today.

“But I like spending time with you.” Her lip jutted out.

“I’m still here aren’t I?” Spencer chuckled, tucking a rogue strand of her hair back off of her rosy face.

“Hey Wren,” you crouched down so you were the same height as her, garnering her attention. “I heard you love Halloween?”

She looked between Spencer who was still standing at his full height and back to you before looking back at him again.

“It’s ok,” he encouraged her with a smile.

She looked back at you once more, a hint of scepticism in her bright eyes.

“Yes.” She nodded feverishly.

“And you love books too, right?”

“Yes.” She nodded again.

“Well that’s perfect because I just so happen to have a book all about Halloween!” You grinned at her whilst reaching into your purse.

Spencer frowned a little, you hadn’t mentioned this on the drive over. He watched as you pulled a book out of your bag, a brightly coloured hardback depicting cartoon pictures of ghosts, witches and monsters getting ready for a spooky party.

The title read The Night Before Halloween.

Neither of you could tell what Wren was thinking, for a five year old she was amazing at masking her expression even though she probably didn’t realise she was doing it.

She looked from the book to your eyes then to Spencer and around in the same loop a few times before settling on Spencer.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” He asked her, trying to prompt her to speak.

“No.” Wren shook her head and turned back to you.

You tried to hide your disappointment. This was your only play, your only way in with her and you’d blown it.

But then the little girl smiled at you.

“I want Y/N to read it to me.” She reached out her little hand for you and you pushed yourself back up to your full height and took it.

She led you over to the couch with Spencer following close behind. You glanced at him over your shoulder and he was smiling at you as he mouthed the words, good job.

***

Two more visits with Wren and she had warmed up to you the same way he had with Spencer. By the third visit she even hugged you.

And you saw exactly why Spencer loved her.

By the time September rolled around you’d moved into Spencer’s suburban home - in the spare room - and had multiple visits with Jenny who struggled to grasp what was happening at first.

Understandably she was sceptical about your sudden involvement but after more rigorous interviews she started to warm up the same way Wren had.

As you weren’t travelling with the team so much anymore and mostly working cases out of Quantico, you and Spencer spent a lot of time together.

He was always home before you, his classes at Marlborough never running past four pm. And as much as you hated to admit it, having someone to come home to everyday was delightful in its domesticity.

When you did travel with the team, usually around every one in four cases, Spencer would call you everyday and send you photographs of him and Wren when he visited her.

Spencer was learning to cook for Wren so the poor girl didn’t have to live off of cereal, coffee and ice cream, or as you always referred to it: The Doctor Reid Diet.

He tried out his new recipes on you and at least eighty percent of them were edible.

You’d been allowed to take Wren out on more day trips, with Jenny in tow of course. The two of you took her to museums and book stores and ice cream parlours; to the park, once to a carnival and anywhere else her little imagination could think to go.

It was midway into October when you arrived back from a case in Florida in which you’d been gone for six days. You knew Spencer had waited up for you as he’d called you to tell you he would.

When you let yourself in the green front door of the house that was feeling more like a home by the day, it wasn’t the messy haired genius who met you.

What did meet you certainly had messy hair, but its dopey expression told you it was no genius.

The creature trotted over to you, tongue hanging out of its slightly lopsided mouth and offered you a single bark whilst nuzzling against your shin.

You stared at the scruffy dog using your leg as a scratching post with wide eyes. Somewhere in the house you heard footsteps and you glanced up to see Spencer appearing from the kitchen.

“Hey, how was your day?” He smiled at you, completely ignoring the confusion on your face.

“Uh, it was perfectly normal until I came home and was greeted by this.” You pointed down at the mutt who was staring expectantly at you.

“He. Not this.” Spencer padded over and quickly scooped up the small, messy animal in his arms. “This is Rover.”

Rover licked Spencer’s cheek and much to your confusion, the germaphobe didn’t even bat an eyelid.

“Last I checked Rover was a stuffed animal. This creature seems to be very much alive.”

“Wren decided she wanted a dog. I said we could go to the pound and look, just look. But, uh, she kinda fell in love with this little guy and I can’t say no to her.” He shrugged, scratching Rover behind his ear.

“So you now have a dog.” You hung your bag up by the door.

“We have a dog.”

“Oh no.” You shook your head, walking past him towards the kitchen. “I’m outta here once Wren’s home. The dog is your problem.”

Spencer placed the creature, which you thought more resembled a gremlin than a dog, on the floor and followed you.

“He’ll grow on you.”

“He most certainly won’t. I’m a cat person. And last I checked you weren’t all that keen on dogs either.”

“But Wren is. So I guess I’m a dog person now.” He leant against the counter in the kitchen while you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

You turned back to look at him as you uncapped it. You had a curious smile on your lips.

“What? What’s that look for?” He frowned a little.

“It’s just funny,” you took a sip. “Six months ago I would never have imagined either of us to be here.”

“Me either.” He agreed with a smile.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.” He started towards you. “You’re a big part of that, you know? I know this is all for show and we’re just doing this until Wren is home, but, uh…I like having you here.”

“It’s not all for show.” You placed the bottle on the counter behind you as you felt a little dizzy with the way Spencer was looking at you.

“No?” He reached you, stopping a few feet in front of you.

“I like being here too.” You confessed, your legs shaking a little due to the look he was currently giving you.

“I’m glad.” He swallowed and your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple and the way it bobbed deliciously beneath his flesh. “I’m, uh, I’m on the verge of doing something very dumb.”

“How do you know it’s dumb until you do it?” You had a pretty good idea of what he was talking about.

“Because I’m a genius and my brain is screaming how dumb it would be.” He chuckled, stepping even closer to you.

“Maybe for once, don’t listen to your brain, Spence.”

To encourage him, you reached for him, placing your hand on his shoulder. He swallowed again as he stepped nearer to you still.

Cautiously he raised his own hands and placed them on the sides of your face, eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“Don’t listen to my brain?” He whispered, wanting confirmation.

“Just this one time.” You offered him a smile and it was all he needed to close the space between you.

When his lips gently brushed against your own, your hand quickly moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck to keep him close.

You parted your lips and he replied in kind by deepening the kiss.

He pushed his body flush against you, pressing you into the counter. He held your face delicately but soon the kiss was growing frantic.

It wasn’t at all long before he was manoeuvring you away from the counter and towards the kitchen door, never tearing his lips from yours. Not at least until his back collided with the door.

He broke the kiss and started to laugh, you did the same. He reached behind him and opened the door, taking your hand pulling you along with him.

The two of you were giggling like a couple of teenagers as you ascended the stairs, neither of you paying much mind to the dog asleep in his bed.

He led you to his room and once inside he pushed you back against the wall and kissed you ardently again.

He rolled his hips against yours so you could feel the bulge in his slacks and you moaned into his mouth.

And then he was leading you to his bed as he helped you out of your clothes.

It was only then as you lay beneath you realised how much you’d missed him. And you knew when or if the time came for Wren to come home and this little domestic bubble popped, it was going to be hard to drag yourself away.

***

You fell asleep wrapped in Spencer’s arm after several hours and multiple orgasms. When you woke in the morning he was already awake, staring at you with a smile on his face.

“Hey,” he stroked your messy hair behind your ear.

“Hey yourself.” You smiled back, inching closer and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Last night was…” he trailed off searching for the right word but finding none that did it justice.

“Amazing?” You laughed lightly.

“That’s certainly one word for it.” He agreed, hand cupping your cheek. “So I don’t wanna be the kind of person that asks this but, uh…did that mean something? Was it just sex or did it mean something? Because I would…uh…I’d really like it to have meant something.”

His nerves were tangled in his words and you could see in his eyes that he hated asking you this. You smiled and ran your fingertips lightly over his bicep.

“Well I guess that…” you were stopped by the sound of Spencer’s phone ringing and he pulled a face of frustration.

“Shoot,” he let go of your face. “To be continued?”

You nodded and watched him roll over, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand and putting it to his ear while sitting up on the edge of the mattress.

“Doctor Reid,” he spoke and then was silent for a moment or two and his back straightened. “Seriously? You…I…seriously? Uh, yeah of course. Today? Gosh…yes. Ok. Ok. Thank you. Goodbye.”

His hand holding the phone fell to his lap limply but other than that he didn’t move. You rolled closer to him with a frown, wrapping an arm around his waist when you were close enough.

He slowly turned his head to look at you and you couldn’t read his expression.

“Spence?” You croaked. “Is everything ok?”

He exhaled through parted lips, his eyes widening a little before he slowly started to nod.

“Y-yeah,” his voice cracked. “Yeah everything’s great. That was Jenny. Apparently we’ve been approved for placement under supervision for Wren. It might not be permanent and Jenny will visit every week. But they wouldn’t let us bring her home if there wasn’t a strong possibility of us being able to adopt her. She’s coming home, Y/N. Our little girl is coming home.”

His tears overflowed when he reached the end of his speech and the smile that adorned his lips was brighter than the sun and all the stars in the sky combined.

You jumped up and threw yourself into his lap, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

“Oh gosh Spence, that’s great!” You felt your own tears well in your eyes as he held you.

And for some reason when he called her our little girl, it didn’t freak you out in the slightest,

***

Wren was an excitable blur of hand gestures and bounces in her seat as Spencer drove the three of you home later that afternoon.

She’d only ever seen photographs of the room Spencer had put together for her and she was buzzing to see it with her own eyes.

It was only once he got close to home driving through the neighbourhood she had lived with her parents whom she watched die, that she clammed up.

You sat in the back of the car with her and watched the way her eyes turned down at the corners as she looked out the window at the familiar houses.

You reached out to her, held her hand.

“It’s ok if you miss them, Wren.” You whispered and her head whipped around to face you.

She was gnawing on her bottom lip, perhaps trying to stop from pouting.

“But I don’t want to make you and Spencer sad.” She spoke in equally hushed tones.

“Hey now silly girl,” Spencer’s right hand appeared between the front seats, blindly reaching for her knee. “You could never make us sad. You have no idea how happy you make us, pumpkin.”

“But you will miss your mommy and daddy and we want you to be able to tell us when you do, ok?” You added, squeezing her hand.

“O-ok.” She nodded, turning back out of the window.

Soon enough Spencer pulled the car to a stop outside of the house with the canary yellow fence and green front door.

He exited the car and rushed around to open Wren’s door while you unbuckled her seatbelt. He lifted her in his arms, spun her around twice, and planted her on her feet on the sidewalk.

She instantly reached for you both, gripping Spencer’s hand in her left and yours in her right.

You and Spencer shared a smile over her head as you led her up to the front door.

The second the door was open a messy haired small mutt ran at full pelt towards the three of you, practically crashing straight into Wren.

She giggled and threw her arms around the dog.

“Rover!” She screeched, burying her face into his matted fur.

Spencer took her bag from her and unzipped it, pulling out the toy Rover and holding him out towards the girl and her dog.

“Rover meet Rover.” He spoke and Wren beamed brightly as she took the toy from him.

She held it in front of the real dog's face and he licked the toy feverishly, making Wren giggle again.

“I think they’re going to be friends!” She cheered happily.

“That’s a relief.” Spencer chuckled, hand naturally slipping in yours.

“Would the Rover’s like to see your new room, honey?” You asked Wren, entwining your fingers with Spencer’s.

“I think so!” She jumped up and down. “Come on big Rover, come on little Rover.”

You and Spencer shared another smile as you led the way, hand in hand, up the stairs and towards the room at the end of the hall.

One of the Rover’s was held by Wren around his neck while the other followed of his own accord. You both stepped aside and motioned for Wren to open the door.

She looked positively giddy with excitement as she reached for the handle. She pushed open the door and Spencer reached inside to flick the lights on.

Her eyes widened as a dozen strings of pumpkin fairy lights cast their glow across the warm autumnal walls, thick cream carpet and everything in between.

She took a few steps inside the room and the two of you watched her eyes flicker between the My Little Pony bed sheets, her name placard above the bed, the bookshelf stuffed full of books, another shelf packed with stuffed animals.

They moved between the dog bed meant for little Rover which big Rover was now already making his way to, to the dresser under the window with a little mirror and her very own chess set.

They made their way to the wardrobe which Spencer had stencilled with falling leaves and little brown birds of her namesake.

Her eyes danced from here to there, there to here and back again. When they finally came to a stop on you and Spencer, they were full of tears.

“This is…for me?” Her bottom lip pouted.

“I don’t know any other little girls called Wren.” Spencer smiled at her.

She suddenly dove at the two of you, one arm wrapping around each of you and nuzzling between you. You felt her small frame racking with sobs and it made your heart melt.

“T-thank you.” She cried, squeezing you both as tightly as she could. “I love you.”

You looked at Spencer, you both had tears welling in your own eyes.

And god dammit if you didn’t love her too.

***

The three of you ate ice cream for dinner on the floor of her bedroom at Wren’s insistence.

You and Spencer played with her and her new collection of stuffed toys, as well as the real life Rover before you took turns reading to her until she finally fell asleep.

Rover was already curled up in the dog bed at the foot of Wren’s bed so you left him there and the two of you quietly crept from the room.

With the day's events you hadn’t had a chance to talk about what happened last night and now you were in the corridor, you weren’t sure what room to go to.

Clearly Spencer didn’t either.

He awkwardly scuffed the toe of his candy corn print sock on the carpet whilst rolling his lip between his teeth.

“Should we, uh…talk?” He shrugged.

“Most likely, yes.” You nodded and silently he led the two of you back downstairs to the living room.

You were both quiet, not meeting the others' gaze as you sat in the armchair and him on the couch. The air was thick with tension, and you didn’t even know where to begin with this conversation.

“I know you don’t want to be Wren’s mom.” He suddenly blurted out. “And I’d never ask you to. But I love you and last night was…it was perfect. I don’t want to choose between having you and Wren in my life. I know it wouldn’t be easy because if everything goes to plan I will have a child at the end of it. You think there’s any chance you’d want to date a single dad?”

He was talking so fast all of his words merged into one and it took you a few moments to ascertain what he was saying. But before you could really catch up, he was talking again.

“We get Wren home permanently, you can give up your rights just like you planned. You move out and you go back to your normal case load but maybe…maybe we can work things out? I know it won’t be easy but I don’t care.

You clearly mean a lot to Wren and I know she would love it if you were still a part of her life after all this, even if it’s not as her adoptive mother. And I hope that you can still be part of my life. As my partner, my one true love.

Wren will be my reasonability, I won’t expect anything from you in regards to her. But I don’t want to be without you, even if it means our life is separate from my life with Wren. I don’t think it’s entirely beyond the realms of possibility to think we could make it work. I just think-”

“Spencer,” you had to cut him off or he would spend the next hour rambling. “I don’t think it’s entirely beyond the realms of possibility either.”

“You…you don’t?” He inhaled sharply.

“It’s not going to be easy,” you pushed yourself up and moved slowly closer to him. When you reached him you lowered yourself so you were sitting in his lap. “It’s going to be hard in fact, really hard. But dating a single dad doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world. Especially when that single dad is you.”

His hands glided across your back, settling on your shoulder blades and holding you firmly in place,

“We’ll make it work.” He smiled at you, inching closer.

“We’ll make it work.” You repeated just as his lips pressed against yours.

***

The day after Wren was placed with you and Spencer, he and the little girl started excitedly decorating the house for Halloween which was two weeks away.

The house was a menagerie of fake cobwebs which you kept walking into, strings of little ghosts hanging in every doorway. A newly carved pumpkin appeared on the porch every single day you returned home from work.

By the time Halloween rolled around the three of you had fallen into somewhat of a routine.

You had tried to distance yourself from parental activities, as soon as the paperwork was finalised you would be moving out and you didn’t want Wren to get too used to you being around.

The last thing you wanted to do was confuse a child who had already lost her biological parents.

Spencer dropped her at school on the way to Marlborough everyday and picked her up on his way home.

He cooked dinner which the two of them ate together and he saved leftovers for when you arrived home.

Nine times out of ten Wren was already in bed by the time you got home from Quantico which helped. It also gave you alone time with Spencer.

Usually you wouldn’t even be in the door more than ten minutes before he was leading you to the bedroom. You’d been sleeping in his room since Wren had come home, although there was usually little sleeping happening.

You’d both quickly learnt how to be quiet, not wanting to further traumatise the girl by having her hear the two of you having sex.

The routine seemed to work for the three of you, it allowed Spencer and Wren to grow closer whilst allowing you and Spencer to grow closer.

On Halloween night you got out of work slightly earlier but still expected Spencer and Wren to be out trick or treating.

He’d promised the little girl months ago to take her and she’d been so excited for tonight, talking about it non stop since she’d come home with you.

He wanted to make her a costume and you tried to teach Spencer how to sew but when that didn’t work you showed him how YouTube worked so he could learn that way.

He’d slaved over creating her a pumpkin costume which was a little lopsided and probably could have been neater but he was so proud of his creation.

Wren had insisted he dress up too so you arrived home to find Dracula in your living room.

“What happened to trick or treating?” You asked as you stepped in the door and hung your jacket up.

“Oh hey,” he smiled brightly as soon as he saw you, moving closer to you. He went to kiss you but then remembered the fake blood on his mouth and refrained. “We’re about to leave, Wren is just getting dressed.”

“Did she love her costume?”

“You have no idea. I’ve never heard a five year old scream before and I’m not sure it’s something I want to relive in a hurry.” He chuckled, straightening up his cape. “Now you’re home you can join us.”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head.

“Oh come on, she’d love it if you came.” Spencer gave you his puppy dog eyes which you tried to ignore.

“You’re the parent.” You reminded him. “And besides, someone should stay home with Rover.”

“Rover is ten years old and sleeps all day.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know. I just-”

You were cut off by the sound of Wren running down the stairs. When she appeared in her pumpkin costume, complete with orange painted face, she was smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/N!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “I’m a pumpkin!”

“Oh wow, you look great!” You cheered.

She beamed, happily showing off her costume like a proud parent.

“Are you coming trick or treating with us?” She asked with expectant green eyes.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Please! You have to come!” She jiggled, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“Yeah Y/N,” Spencer smirked at you. “You have to.”

“I don’t have a costume.” You shrugged.

“Leave that to me.” Spencer stepped closer to you and took hold of your hand. “Wren give us five minutes and we’ll head out, ok?”

“Ok!” She nodded, moving aside so Spencer could lead you upstairs.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, which he’d done countless times before but you knew this wasn’t for the reasons you would like.

“I took the liberty of picking something up for you at the costume store when I was getting mine.” He let go of your hand so he could open the closet.

“Of course you did.” You sighed.

He pulled out an outfit in a costume bag and turned it to face you. Inside was sheathed all the makings of a witches costume.

A long, flowy purple crushed velvet dress with long, billowy sleeves. A black wig. A pointy hat.

You rolled your eyes as you took it from him, trying to ignore the stupid look on his face.

“Fine, I will wear it. But you are not painting my face.”

“Deal.” He grinned, in a smug way knowing he’d won.

***

Ten minutes later the three of you were out the door. Dracula, the witch and the pumpkin.

Wren was full of excitement as she skipped on just ahead of you, swinging her little bucket she hoped to fill with candy.

“She’s your problem when she won’t sleep tonight because she’s hopped up on sugar.” You spoke as Spencer slipped his hand in yours.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, eyes never leaving the back of the curly haired pumpkin. “Thank you for coming.”

“Did I have a choice?” You joked.

Spencer briefly glanced at the side of your face before focusing back on Wren who was now making her way up a front porch of one of your neighbours houses. The two of you hung back by the gate.

“You don’t like spending time with her.” He looked back at you while Wren was busy getting her candy.

“That’s not true. I love spending time with her, she’s an amazing kid. But I don’t want her to get used to me being around all the time. She lost her mom and dad, I don’t want her to see me as a parental figure only to lose me too.”

Spencer’s hand slipped from yours and he quickly pocketed both of his hands. You frowned at him as he turned away from you.

“Right. Of course.” He watched Wren smile and thank Mrs Taylor for the candy.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” You glared at him.

“Nothing. I just forget sometimes what a hardship this is for you.”

“Spencer, I never said-”

“What did you get, pumpkin?” He cut you off as Wren came running back over, his tone lightening as he regarded her.

Wren showed off her haul and soon you were continuing on. Spencer walked with Wren now, holding her free hand while you hung back.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that this would get complicated. But why did it?

***

The night ended worse than it started. When your rounds of the neighbourhood took you past the old Briar house, the home where Wren watched her parents die, it came to an abrupt end with tears.

Spencer carried her home while she sobbed in his arms. He put her to bed and spent a long time coddling her while she cried for her parents.

He found you in the living room, your wig and hat on the coffee table. You stood from the couch when he entered the room.

“I don’t really feel like company tonight so maybe you should just stay in the guest room.” His jaw was clenched tightly as he spoke.

“Right, sure.” You nodded.

He turned away from you, started towards the stairs before quickly turned back around.

“You know what actually, maybe you should look into moving back into your apartment. This place is kinda crowded. You only need to be here when Jenny visits anyway, there’s no point in you being here all the time. And that way Wren won’t get attached to you and it’ll make it easier all round.” He turned again but before he could get too far you grabbed him by the wrist.

“Spencer, please don’t say that. We talked about this, we had a plan, we-”

“Stop it, please.” He cut you off. “I can’t do this right now, ok? I have a little girl upstairs who I had to rock to sleep because she couldn’t stop crying about her dead parents. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with all this right now.”

“Fine.” You clenched your jaw to stop the tears falling. “But let me just say it isn’t fair for you to act this way when we had an agreement. You knew what my involvement was going to be in all of this and the plan was never for me to be her mother!”

“The plan?” He suddenly spat. “The goddamn plan? You make it sound so clinical!”

“I thought it was.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you expect that I was going to wake up one day and change my mind? Was that what you hoped for here? That I’d play happy families and realise this is what I wanted?”

“Yes,” he shrugged. “Yes, that's exactly what I hoped would happen. Excuse me for believing that two people who are as in love as I thought we were could raise a child together.”

“Maybe I should move out.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“I’ll help you pack.” With that he turned again and this time you let him go.

You watched as he ascended the staircase, clearly wanting to make more noise about it but not wanting to wake Wren.

Once you heard his bedroom door shut you fell back to the couch and your tears unleashed.

What had possessed you into thinking this would be a good idea? You’d wanted to help Spencer and never once stopped to think of the ramifications.

Like it or not you and Wren had grown close, despite your best efforts. Your leaving would be hard on her. And it would be hard on you too.

You’d come to care for that little girl even though you’d tried so hard not to. You weren’t ready to be a mom, or so you thought, but Wren had wormed her way into your heart.

And now you were going to lose her and Spencer through your own stubbornness.

Well done, Y/N, you thought to yourself as you cried. You’ve really gone and fucked this up.

***

The following day Spencer dropped Wren off at school, thankfully in a much brighter mood than she had been the previous night.

You both had the day off work for Jenny’s weekly visit and if she noticed the awkwardness between the two of you she didn’t mention it.

Spencer was amazing at keeping his emotions in check when he needed to and even you believed he was happy.

You sat amicably and drank tea while Spencer filled the social worker in on your Halloween night, glossing over all the bad parts.

It struck you that Jenny wasn’t taking notes like usual, didn’t even have her notebook out. You weren’t sure if Spencer noticed or not or if he was too busy pretending he had the perfect family to notice.

When the tea dried up along with the conversation, Jenny pulled a manilla envelope out of her briefcase and proffered it forward.

Spencer took it with a frown, in the corner in black ink it read simply: Re: Wren Briar - Reid Y/L/N.

“Uh,” he ran his fingers over the envelope and looked up at Jenny with a frown. “What is this?”

Jenny smiled softly, a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.

“Congratulations,” she spoke sincerely. “That is your official adoption papers. Wren is now formally in the care of the two of you.”

You felt a flurry of emotions all at once and you didn’t know which one to focus on. But you were distracted from that when Spencer, out of nowhere, started sobbing.

“S-seriously?” He stuttered, tears streaming from his eyes.

“Seriously, Doctor Reid.” Jenny smiled. “I know it’s been a long and difficult process, but it’s over now.”

“Oh my god.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. “Oh my god.”

Seeing the happiness on Spencer’s face made your own tears fall and you gripped him tightly.

“We did it, Spence. We did it.” You cried.

Jenny saw herself out as the two of you continued to cry. At some point Spencer wrapped you in his arms and sobbed into your shoulder while you did the same into his chest.

Eventually both your tears started letting up and he sat back and wiped the stains on your cheek. He was smiling shakily at you and you returned the gesture.

“Don’t leave.” He whispered, voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to do this without you. I know this wasn’t part of the plan but-”

“Screw the plan.” You cut him off. “Plans change. I can’t ignore the feeling of elation and relief I felt when Jenny told us. Goddamnit I love Wren, I love her so much. And I want to be her mother, Spencer, I really want that.”

“You…” he choked. “You do?”

“Yes. This wasn’t the life I envisioned for myself but life isn’t straightforward. Things happen, plans change. I found my family. And it’s you and Wren.” You smiled as your tears started up again.

Spencer was quick to tug you back into his arms and hold you tighter than you’d ever been held before. He nuzzled against your neck and placed soft kisses on your flesh.

“I love you so much.” He cried. “And I love our little found family.”

You stayed like this for some time, until you needed to pick Wren up from school. For the first time you and Spencer went together.

When you told her the news she jumped up and down and squeezed you both as tightly as her little arms would allow and it filled your heart to the brim.

There was no doubt in your mind that this was where you were supposed to be.

As she planted big sloppy kisses on yours and Spencer’s cheeks, you heard him whisper, welcome to the family little pumpkin.

***

Four Months Later

The noise from the backyard filtered in through the open door, little voices chattering, the occasional screech of excitement, giggle from tiny lungs and small feet pitter pattering in the grass.

You poured yourself a glass of water and sipped from it while you observed the chaos.

It was Wren’s sixth birthday and damn near every child in her school had descended on your home. The BAU team members and their kids were all in attendance and you wondered if your garden would ever be the same again.

There was a bounce house in one corner, a magician in the other - for which Spencer had begrudged paying for when he could have done it himself.

You’d insisted he wanted to be more present for the event, really enjoy the memories made today on her first birthday as your daughter.

Rover had long ago distanced himself from children pulling his matted fur and retired to his bed in Wren’s room. You couldn’t blame him, you’d half contemplated joining him.

You were exhausted from all the planning, from the demands of motherhood and still trying to hold down your job at the BAU, albeit only part time now.

You hadn’t even stopped to consider how tiring the party would actually be.

You felt a presence behind you and spun on your heels to find Spencer smiling at you as he sidled up to you. He moved in close and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Are you as tired as I am?” He chuckled.

“I don’t think anyone is as tired as you, you’re the life and soul of this party.” You teased him. “I saw Wren dragging you on to the bounce house.”

“It’s been a long time since my old knee injury hurt this bad.” He grumbled a little. “But it’s worth it to see her happy.”

“I can’t believe she’s six already. The months are flying by.” You sighed wistfully.

“She’ll be eighteen and going off to college any day now.” He laughed.

“Bringing boys home.”

“Don’t you dare!” He gasped. “Do not put that idea in my head.”

“Sorry,” you smiled sweetly. “It’s a long way off.”

“It better be.” He shook his head.

“So, uh…I got you something.” You reached behind you and grabbed the small, neatly wrapped gift off of the kitchen counter.

Spencer frowned at it as he took it somewhat cautiously.

“You got me a gift? For our daughter's birthday?” He ran his fingertips over the wrapping paper curiously.

“Just open it and be grateful.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

Still with a frown on his face, Spencer tore the gift wrap, the same kind as you used to wrap the obscene amount of gifts you’d brought Wren.

You held your breath and waited, your nerves getting the better of you and you leaned back against the counter top as your legs shook a little.

Spencer’s deft fingers made quick work of the paper, tossing it aside like the excited six year old had with her own gifts.

Once opened he stared at the item in his hand. Approximately five inches long. Thin. Hard plastic.

You watched him stare at it as if it was a completely foreign object, patiently waiting for him to look up, to say something.

His hands started to tremble and when he finally did look up at you, tears swam in his eyes.

“Is this…for real?” His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.

“It’s like the fifth one I took so I’m fairly certain.” You nodded, feeling your own eyes fill with tears. “Wren’s going to be a big sister.”

Pregnancy test still in hand, he suddenly threw his arms around you and squeezed you so tightly you felt the air leave your lungs.

“We’re having another child?” He whispered against your neck.

“This family just keeps growing.” You laughed as you wrapped him in your arms.

You wiped away your tears, not wanting to be seen crying at Wren’s birthday party. But soon your moment was over, and you were being forced away from each other.

“Mommy, daddy, is it time for cake?” Wren’s voice carried in from the garden.

You sprung apart and stared at each other, a new batch of tears in both of your eyes for completely different reasons.

“Did she just…” you breathed, voice slightly horse.

“I think so.” Spencer sniffed, a delighted smile on his face.

Thus far Wren had always called you both by your names which was entirely understandable. Spencer had always told her she could call you mom and dad if and when she felt it was right.

“As if this day wasn’t perfect enough.” He wiped his eyes, pocketing the pregnancy test after giving it one last look.

“We better go, daddy.” You winked at him and went to pass him but he grabbed you by the waist.

“Oh jeez, why is that so hot when you say it?” He growled, bowing his head and placing kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

“Really?” You smirked.

“Really.” He hissed, stepping back and nodding to his crotch where you can instantly see the bulge forming in his slacks.

“Hmm, I’ll bear that in mind daddy.” You chuckled and he let out a soft low moan.

But before he could reply, you were summoned again.

“Mommy, daddy!” Wren hollered from the yard.

“Ok, not so sexy anymore.” He shook his head, stepping further back. “I’ll get the cake.”

“I’ll get my phone so I can film you and your horrible singing.” You gently kissed his cheek before he walked away.

Spencer lit the six candles on the pumpkin shaped birthday cake and cautiously carried it through to the yard while he began singing happy birthday.

All the kids and adults joined in as Wren beamed from ear to ear as all eyes were on her. You held your cellphone steady, hovering by the back door where you filmed the chorus.

When the song was over everybody cheered and Wren sucked in a huge breath before blowing out the candles.

You watched on as Spencer placed a kiss in her messy dark hair and she smiled brightly at her dad in return.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the two of them, Wren bouncing excitedly in her chair while Spencer went about cutting the cake into slices for all the children.

Spencer handed her the first slice and she gorged on it, stuffing the cake in her mouth and leaving icing smudged around her lips.

It was crazy how much things had changed in such a short space of time. Six months ago you never would have pictured yourself here, a mother to a six year old and growing another child inside of you.

Life has a funny way of giving us exactly what we want at exactly the wrong time. But for you and Spencer and Wren, the world had worked its magic and done you all the biggest favour.

It had given the three of you the kind of love you all so sorely needed, it had offered a home to three people who were out in the cold. It had created a family, who in eight months time would have a new addition to it.

Ultimately all we really strive for in life is to find somewhere to belong, and although it may have been unexpected, it was safe to say that you, Spencer and Wren had found that somewhere with each other.

@ultragirrl @wittlewowa @bxtchopolis @coldheartedmar

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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mercurygray · 3 months

Text

What Friends Are For

It's a normal afternoon at the airfield, with administration staff running errands and a baseball game in the outfield, until a replacement plane brings a new pilot...and a new perspective on an old face.

It had been the most normal afternoon in the world before the plane came in.

The day’s mission (a milk run of a diversion route, hardly worth worrying over) wasn’t due back for several hours, and everyone who’d been left off the roster was taking advantage of the July sunshine. There were men napping in deck chairs outside the Aero Club and half of a baseball game in the newly mown infield, a strange sense of peace smoothing over everything - until Anita’s voice was heard coming in over the tannoy that everyone was to clear the field and the runway for a flight in from Framlingham.

A wild scramble started at the Aero Club and the motor pool, a jumbled rush for jeeps and bicycles and anything else that could get you to the tarmac as fast as possible. Framlingham meant replacement planes, and replacement planes meant ferry pilots - and ferry pilots just might be female.

Two to a plane, a pilot and and a co-pilot who could run radios in a pinch. It was a job for flyers who were not quite 1A, not exactly front line and not exactly behind it either, and the Air Forces had decided that before they saddled their walking wounded with the indignity of being singled out for noncombat flights, they’d let the women do it. Look nice in the papers, wouldn’t it - fresh-faced young woman straight from college airfields and the Ninety-Nines clubroom. Girl flyers to ferry planes for bomber boys. It would be allowed that they were just level headed enough to fly the plane from point A to point B, but combat duty would be a bridge too far. Handling one of the heavies in anything stronger than a swift breeze was a job for men, not women. (Until someone needed to motivate the men, in which case - it’s so easy they’ve got girls doing it.)

And besides all that - it might be good for morale, to have a couple of cute faces around.

The baseball players made it in first - Egan and DeMarco and Biddick, shirts off and baseball gloves abandoned at the side of the tarmac while the B-17 touched down, slowing steadily and then turning on to the taxiway, one of the crew chiefs waving it down to an open hardstand to give it another once over. The crowd followed. “I call dibs if one’s a blonde,” Dickie was heard to say to his co-pilot, Curt shoving him playfully and telling him where he could put it.

They waited a ways off while the propellers stopped spinning, the familiar whine of the engine dying down until the silence said it was safe to approach.

A figure in Santiago blue emerged from the hatch near the nose, bag tossed on the tarmac and landing with a soft thump on the ground. (More than one man was thinking about how nice those legs looked, getting down out of the plane.)

“Still fun though, wasn’t it?” the woman was asking, waiting for another person to join her on the ground, fixing her gloves and loosening her jacket.

“God, yes,” the second voice agreed, the smile in her voice hardly trying to hide. “I forgot how much.” A second bag, a second pair of legs - but the face that went with it made every single man there pull up short.

Benny got there first. “Callaway?”

Sure enough, there she was - Cordelia Callaway, last seen on a truck south to Wing Headquarters at Horham, trying to brush the creases out of her trousers and shoving a pair of leather pilot’s gloves into her coat pockets. It was strange to see her away from her tower, and perhaps stranger still to see she was pulling down both her briefcase and a navigator’s board, its pencil hanging by a string.

“She was going my way,” the pilot in blue offered, as if some kind of apology were needed. “We were short-handed and it seemed silly to make an old friend wait for the truck.”

The answer provoked more questions than answers, but no one quite seemed to know quite what to ask - or how. “Are you gonna introduce us, Lieutenant?” Gale asked breezily, joining the party with his cap still on and a book tucked under his arm. “Some of us like to pretend we still have manners.”

Cord, too, was a little off balance. “This is Laura Simpson. She’s a... friend of mind from back home. Laura, this is Major Gale Cleven - Captain Benny DeMarco - Lieutenant Curtis Biddick - Lieutenant Dickie Snyder...and Major John Egan. They’re all pilots here at the 100th.”

“You any relation to the Laura Simpson whose father’s an admiral?” Dickie asked, as Laura went around shaking hands.

“Guilty as charged,” the pilot replied. “Hope you won’t hold it against me.”

“And how do they have you flying for the Army?”

“Nepotism only gets you anywhere if your uncle’s a six star general,” Laura said, grinning at her own joke. “The Navy won’t let me near a plane, much less the carrier to put it on - and believe me, Daddy asked. So it’s all Army, all day for this gal. I don’t mind it much, as long as I’m flying. Besides,” she added, with a wink for effect, “I have it on good authority the boys are cuter on this side of the war.”

That won some points - the smiles got wider and at least one man stood up just a little taller. “Are you going to stick around for dinner, Miss Simpson? The cuter boys always have room for another pretty face,” Dickie offered, obviously trying hard to get the last word in.

“Well, it is the last flight of the day for me,” Laura said, shrugging. “And it just so happens I brought my party clothes, too.”

“I should get going,” Cordelia said quietly, adjusting the grip on her briefcase and hefting the navigator’s board under her arm. “I’ve got film for Bowman and Brennan.”

“I’ll catch you later,” Laura promised. “I’m sure these fine gentlemen will get me over to the women’s quarters in one piece.” She looked around with a winning smile. “Someone going to offer to carry my bag?”

Three hands went up, but Curt’s went straight to the bag itself, which made him the winner, and the whole group set off back to base, Dickie jogging around to retrieve the rest of the baseball gloves.

“Mighty nice of you to jumpseat Callaway back to us, Miss Simpson,” Bucky said with a smile, his long stride loping a little to keep pace with Laura, who wasn’t nearly as tall as him.

“Oh, I didn’t jumpseat anyone,” Laura said strongly, smiling slightly herself. “She drove.”

There were stares, and Bucky actually lost a step. “Callaway’s not a pilot, she’s a flight control officer.”

His stare was just this side of predatory, his dark eyes focused and narrow, but Laura still laughed. “If you think that’s true, there’s a lot about Cordelia Callaway you don’t know, Major.”

“Enlighten us, then,” Curt offered, as generous with his smiles as he’d been with his carrying of her bag.

Laura met his eye with a generosity of her own. “Buy me a drink later and maybe I’ll tell you, Lieutenant.”

Later was after they’d let her fill out paperwork with Jack Kidd about the plane she’d just brought in, and let him make the necessary calls for a seat on a truck headed back to Framlingham so she could be returned to the ferrying roster tomorrow, and after Captain Brennan had made sure there were quarters ready in the women’s block and filled her in on the rest of the base’s amenities. And finally, after all the ts had been crossed and is had been dotted and her bags had been left in the women’s quarters, it was just close enough to happy hour that the whole party found themselves in the officer’s club for a few drinks before dinner.

“So how does an admiral’s daughter end up knowing a WAC from Ohio?” Curt said with single-minded focus, once the drinks had been poured and seats had been found near the fireplace. “Because there ain’t a lot of naval bases in Dayton, the last time I checked.”

“We met on the East Coast air race circuit,” Laura offered plainly, glancing around to blank and confused stares. "You all really don't know who she is, do you?" She laughed and took a sip of her whiskey. "Cord Callaway is the 1939 Cleveland Powder Puff women's pylons champion. She's not just a pilot - she's a racer. And an acrobat, while we’re talking."

"You're shitting me." That was Bucky, sitting back in his chair.

"Not for a moment," Laura assured him. "She's one of the best fliers I know. She did the course at Cleveland and took five seconds off the standing record that year - and she did it in last year’s plane."

"So what the hell's she doing up in a control tower?"

"You'd have to ask her that, Lieutenant Biddick. I only know part of the story."

“So share the part you know,” Bucky advised.

Laura looked around at the waiting faces and settled into her chair. “You all know she grew up at Wright Patterson, right? Her old man’s an engineer there - helps run tests on government contract models. She grew up flying - took lessons from officers at the base when her dad was working late. Practice something long enough and you get good at it, and she got good. The guys who were teaching her were all test pilots - taught her rolls and spins, and she got good at those, too. The Air Force usually sent a couple of guys to Cleveland, and one year she went with. They let her take one of the planes out as a joke, and she smoked three quarters of the field - no one knew who she was or where she’d come from. Next thing you know she’s got a Ninety-Nines membership and an invite to the next meet and one of the guys at Curtis is talking to her about flying their plane - once they find out she’s Wilson Callaway’s daughter. They figure that making it easy enough for a girl to fly will be a selling point.” She smirked. “It’s not just six star generals and admirals, you know.”

Bucky cut in. “Get to the part about the tower.”

If Laura seemed surprised by his insistence she didn’t say anything, just kept on with the story. “Jackie Cochran had reached out to a number of us in...was that the same year? I think it was. Wanting to talk about flying for England - ferrying duties. I didn’t feel like it, but then Nancy Love reached out...maybe a year later, a year and a half, about doing the same thing stateside, after Arnold asked her, and that sounded good to me. I called around to see who else I might be seeing, and I thought for sure Cord would be game, but she - she said she wasn’t doing it, that she was joining the WAC instead to do air traffic.” She paused, took a sip of her drink. “There was ...a guy she’d been mentioning a lot, and apparently there’d been an accident. He was due to join his squadron in a week.” Laura took another sip of whiskey, ice clipping around in her glass. The entire group had gone silent. “Captain James Chapman. Jimmy. When your number’s up, I suppose.” She raised her eyebrows and finished the rest of her whiskey. “And that’s what I know about that. If you want whatever’s left of the story, you’ll have to get it from her.”

It was a somber note to end on, but the mess sergeant was ringing the bell for chow, and man by man they trooped out to the dining hall, Curt and Dickie having apparently claimed the right to have Laura sit at their table. By the time they got to dinner everyone was talking and laughing again.

The officer’s club certainly wasn’t crowded after dinner, but Bucky still slid into the seat directly next to Cord and made himself comfortable watching Laura with her current dance partner across the room. For a moment the two sat in silence. “I think Curt’s getting ready to propose to your friend,” Bucky said, casually.

The observation made her glance up in alarm. He was right - Curt looked very serious indeed, his hand gently cradling hers as the two danced. “Someone had better tell him to save it,” she warned. “Laura’s already spoken for. She’s got a boyfriend over in Fighter Command with a right hook that’s just as good as Curt’s.”

Bucky seemed to be considering it for a moment, but he remained in his chair, his eyes fixed on Cord again. “You know, she’s telling some wild stories about your course record in Cleveland, Lieutenant.”

Cord met his eye for a moment in fear, her eyes quickly falling back to her drink. “I wish she wouldn’t,” she said, softly.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Bucky leaned over the table, his glass in both hands. “About being a pilot?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“So then why’d you give up flying?” Bucky wasn’t taking no for an answer here, clearly trying to understand more. “They would have let you, same as her. Was it this guy - this guy Jimmy?”

The name made her freeze for a moment, a deer under the hunter’s eye. “She told that story, too?”

Bucky nodded and leaned back in his chair again. “I have to say, I’m kinda struggling to picture you breaking your heart over a boyfriend, but what do I know?”

“That’s not why I did it.” Her tone was almost harsh. “It wasn’t a broken heart, and he ...wasn’t my boyfriend.” She said all this like that would be the end of the matter, and then made the mistake of glancing at Bucky, who said nothing, spreading his hands and raising his eyebrows like he was inviting her to say more. “It was an accident,” she said, finally. “A terrible, perfectly avoidable accident.” Again he said nothing, the silence guilting her to speak. “Control gave him and the next pilot in the flight pattern the wrong approach angle and windspeed - they collided in midair.”

If Bucky had a smart reply to that, he couldn’t immediately find it, and Cord, for once, looked vindicated. Every pilot worth his salt knew you invited trouble by talking about air accidents, and what she’d just described was one hell of a mistake. “Decided then war didn’t need more pilots,” she added, draining her drink with a bitter look. “It needed more people to get them back on the ground safe.” She scraped her chair backwards and stood up, leaving the empty glass between them. “I’m going to bed. I think Laura knows where she’s staying. Don’t let her get into too much trouble.” And then, just like that, she was gone, and Bucky was left alone at the table, staring at her wake. Plane crashes, pylons champions... Cord Callaway, a pilot!

The music wound down and Laura flung herself into Cord’s vacated seat, flushed and smiling and breathing heavily, a fresh glass in her hand. “You look like a man trying to figure something out, Major.”

“I am,” Bucky decided, sitting up a little and smoothing out his jacket. “I’m trying to figure out how the two of you are friends when you’re goddamn delightful and Callaway is -”

Laura rolled her eyes. “She’s not always like that, you know. She’s got a big job up there, and she takes it very seriously.” She brushed a hair out of her eyes and took a long sip of her drink. “You know, Cord talked a lot about you, on the way over,” she said, watching Bucky for signs of life. He looked up in surprise. “I mean, she talked about everyone, but she talked a lot about you in particular, Major Egan.”

Bucky scoffed. “Well, that’s not surprising. I’m a stone in her shoe. She trying to warn you off me?”

Laura shook her head. “She’s lived around pilots her whole life, Major. Cowboys and showoffs aren’t new.” Another pause, another drink. “No, I think it’s something else. You’re the guy they look up to - the one who’s invincible, who tells them it can be done and then does it. That’s how Jimmy was. And she saw what losing him did to the other guys with him.” She sat up a little in her chair and leaned over the table. “Did she tell you the part of the story about how she met his mother afterwards? She and his father were coming to see him off - missed the telegram. Instead of a vacation they got their son in a box, before he’d ever even got to the war. So she doesn't do it to be an ice queen, Major Egan. She does it because however she feels about you, she respects what you do. And I think - no, I know - that she cares about you. Maybe not that way - but she cares."

She gathered up her glass and moved off, to the table that Dickie and a few of the others were sharing, leaving Bucky to wonder in peace about secrets, and friends who shared stories, and just what kind of guy Jimmy Chapman must have been, to make a girl give up flying for him.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #masters of the air OC #masters of the air x oc #cordelia callaway

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cinnamoon-roll2 · 5 months

Text

The Famished Doctor and Their Devoted Ghost

Danny takes on a new murder case for the Roseville Gazette that people presume is his, but he's never taken the organs of his victims. His curiosity gnaws at him, he needs to know who is this new homicidal partner he shares the town with, and who is this new girl that's making him doubt about his future plans.

Chapter 3: So… Wanna be friends…?

Chapter summary: Quick fatigued breaths were what they both shared at that moment, their gazes under their respective masks were focused on each other, what they were going to do at that moment.

Chapter Trigger Warnings: explicit mention of murder, cannibalism and violence, a crow and a ghost fighting, authors voice kink showing, slight mention of SA

Wc: 4,7K

AO3 Link. Previous Next

Taglist: @mariamyousef702 , @weaponxgames

Their gazes met for it felt like a thousand seconds, Fanny felt the adrenaline release in her blood system, her mind started racing a hundred miles an hour, God, if she existed, what would she do now, run, fight, or start fangirling over meeting the other famous murder in town.

She watched as Ghostface cocked his head curiously at the position he was in, she gave a quick glance at the prosciutto to verify that he could no longer move anything but his eyes or his breathing. She raised her hands in surrender in the direction of the ghost, before taking a quick jog towards the bathroom of the flat.

Danny didn't understand what a person dressed as a plague doctor was doing in his victim's appartement, he had been watching him for a week and a half, he paused two days of watching him because he was trying to gather more information about Luna, he wanted her to be his brightest star (yes he understood that the moon was a natural satellite, even so, the context was understood), which would make him remembered and feared for the rest of Roseville's history. Curiously he made that little gesture, which he couldn't help making every time he didn't understand something, he tilted his head at the image in front of him, he saw the doctor raise their hands in front of him in a sign that they were not a threat to him.

As he was about to enter to come face to face with this mysterious individual, they began to run away from him towards a room in the flat. As he entered the room he noticed how John was lying on the floor, he approached him and moved him with his boot, he only noticed the terror in the eyes of this robust man, he looked so weak, exposed, so powerless, in a different situation he would have laughed at him for the situation he was in, but now he had to focus on trying to make the other character come out of their hiding place.

Before approaching where they had gone, he wanted to investigate more about whatever the person had done in the place, first he went to the kitchen, he didn't see anything very out of the ordinary, until he saw two black boxes, he knelt down next to those boxes and noticed that one was a cooler and a leather briefcase, When he opened it he saw many medical tools that seemed to be used to extract something or operate on someone, oh who would have thought that his luck had finally changed, he had already found the beloved organ sucker, a little nickname that had occurred to him with the facts that he had seen the first time he met this individual, now he understood why they both went for John.

Both saw that he was a perfect specimen, in the case of the organ sucker, since he was healthy, they must have been looking for excellent quality content. What he was looking for in that typical high school jock was a challenge, he needed something that would revive his assassin essence, something that would make him feel that adrenaline rush he was addicted to, that would make him feel the satisfaction of seeing all his senses fill with red, and then ruin his reputation after he was dead, revealing how he had no respect for women, how he had more than once taken advantage of the fact that he had to escort the drunken housewives of millionaires back home, the very thought of it caused him a mortal disgust that would make him want to stab him all at once and not even wait for the other killer.

However, now he could no longer see any fun in this scenario, John was totally paralysed, he didn't prove to be a fucking threat to him, now what fun would it be to stab him if he couldn't even seem to speak, let alone cry for help or mercy He sighed at this fact, he was distracted by hearing a loud moan, which caused him to cringe, yes he could have carnal desires, but at this level of letting everyone know that you had someone to satisfy them, that was disturbing the poor lives of others. Keeping that disgust he continued towards John's main room, there he saw a very clever move, it was a small speaker that sounded very loud, what a clever guy. If John struggled with it, he had no way of disguising what was going on, but this cunning little organ sucker was bringing a distraction, God this guy is unbelievable, should he take him out or ask for an alliance? Fuck, he didn't know what to do with this madman, but he seemed like an excellent addition to Roseville. He was about to approach the speaker to see how much playback he had left until he heard a door opening.

Steam was all he could see through his mask, he felt his breathing quicken in that state of panic, he paced in circles in the small space that was the bathroom, he paced and paced in that nervousness. Her brain was screaming between all the divisions inside her, she listened to the thousands and thousands of ideas that were formulating in her head. What will be the damn solution of this matter?

She untied the mask straps to improve her breathing, turned her gaze to the mirror, looked at her light blue eyes full of despair. She looked at the inside of her mask, seeing the bundle of herbs at the end of the spout, inhaled sharply before taking some toilet paper to clean the lenses of the mask. When she was satisfied with the result of her cleaning, she placed it back on her face.

She decided to take a seat on the toilet seat reflecting a little more deeply on what she was going to do with her life at this point, it was time to be positive, positively she was going to get out of that flat without getting hurt, no that was a clear lie, fuck, damn brain think what the hell are you going to do at this point.

She in her reflection managed to hear Ghostface's footsteps outside her hideout, from the direction she assumed he was going to John's room, maybe if she were quick enough, she could run away from that situation, no she couldn't her cruel life hadn't bred a coward, she continued to take deep breaths. She had decided; it was time to face the lion in the room.

The door opened, Ghostface immediately peeked out from the entrance to see what was going on there, both were surprised as the first time to find themselves face to face again, again they were facing each other with the same gesture, the stoic raven mask and the permanent scream tilted in curiosity, or was it confusion, it was uncertain. The tension between the two felt too thick, so thick that either of them could cut it with a knife.

"I seem to have taken the one who appeared to be your next victim, shame on me for getting in your way." She held up her hands in a sign of peace, as she watched Ghostface who was still in that stoic position, who seemed not to move his head and continued to watch from that position. "This is a very strange way of a first impression, I hope that a good relationship will be achieved between us, Mr. Ghostface." She moved her hands, one behind her back, the other to the front waiting for a handshake.

But of course, not everything can go as smoothly as it seems, if her reflexes had not saved her, she would have surely received a nice stab in her right hand, reflexively jumping to her right side, she took a big step to be on the other side of the sofa. At that moment she needed to keep as much distance from the other man as possible. She saw out of the corner of her eye John's motionless body in the middle of the kitchen-living room.

She heard Ghostface's boots approaching her position, purely on impulse, pulled her hand to where she had dropped her cane, held it tightly in her left hand and stepped out. She ran towards the window from where she had entered, in the corner of her eye she saw Ghostface following in her escaping. She placed her staff in her belt, and began to climb quickly to the rooftop, she hoped he would last longer climbing and chasing her.

She finally saw the light at the end of this madness, she looked up at last at that flat floor of the small rooftop of the building, she took a good push to get more distance from the ghost. Being about four meters away from the entrance of the staircase she saw Ghostface peeking out, he was peacefully entering the rooftop with his knife in hand. Fucking hell, she was fucked, really fucked.

It was very curious for Danny to see someone who had done something as cruel as harvesting another human's organs run away from his self. As he climbed up to the rooftop he noticed that the medic was a long way from the entrance, it was amusing for him to see how that person who took organs from others was afraid of someone as simple as him, well that was in his words he considered himself just a stalker who finished off his victims in a very artistic way. The raven had reached the edge of where they stood, the crow had no choice but to raise its hands again in surrender. He playfully cocked his head again, he wanted to challenge them to go against him, he wanted to face the reality of this guy, how strong they were, could they go against him, he wanted to see if the organ sucker was what he was looking for, someone strong to look to for inspiration, an alliance or another body to leave tonight.

Fanny had her mind in desperation, if you wanted a reference she felt like thousands of office workers running around like mad trying to save the most important documents from a giant fire in the building, she still had her hands up she had to show a bit of submission to who she assumed to be a man, she still had her cane in her belt and her two knives in each boot, it was a matter of Ghostface letting his guard down and her acting with speed.

Danny still had his trusty hunter's knife in his hand, still holding his head in the same position, he approached with small steps. He had managed to hear the voice of the raven, yet through their mask it was difficult to identify the gender of whoever was under that suit.

Both criminals just stared at each other, again they were in that trance of looking at each other. This was finally broken when the taller of the two lunged at the other, the doctor was quick to dodge him and drew their baton to hit a painful area for Ghostface.

Danny was smart enough to bend down, avoiding the metal of the tip of the baton that his adversary possessed, he tensed his jaw to try again to stab or even graze the raven. The result was again a dodge and another attempt at a lunge for the baton. They went at it for quite a while until the mismatched eyed one decided to play a little dirty and took the staff to push his opponent to the ground causing them to fall to the ground just enough to stab them perfectly.

Even so, he didn't count on something that the raven was quicker to roll to the other side and avoid his attack, just when she was thinking of getting up from the ground she was pulled towards him by the ankle, that pull made her be dragged towards the assassin, the only thing her instincts thought was to throw a kick towards Ghostface's middle abdomen, if she succeeded it would be an accurate hit right in his diaphragm causing him difficulty breathing, his lungs would have spasms that would take all the air out of them.

However, no matter how hard she tried to hit Ghostface in the abdomen, she only succeeded in getting his hand up to her calf, pulling her body harder. With her upper torso still free, she decided to take her staff with all the force she needed for a good blow and threw it at the dominant hand of the man dressed in black, causing the knife to fly out of the man's hand.

Upon the act, the man was taken by surprise, giving the raven a chance to kick him in the face and speed away from him. However, as she was planning to leave, she felt Ghostface also pull her baton away from her. The man slowly picked himself up, the raven was in a perfect attack position to deliver blows to anyone who came at them with speed. He assumed a similar position, taking note of where his knife and the other person's staff were, they were far away from each other, they had no choice but to return to melee.

Fanny stretched her neck sideways, her fists were placed diagonally, the right one in front of the left one, the situation of her legs was the opposite, her strongest leg was the left one, keeping it in that position she could create a quick strike to any part of her adversary's body.

Danny analysed very curiously the posture of the crow in front of him, this person has experience in some martial art, he took a similar but different posture, he used his own posture, he used his fists at the same distance, he kept his legs at the width of his shoulders.

At that moment Fanny decided to take a few quick steps to proceed with a Muay Thai style kick, which was aimed at a person's half guard, liver, and ribs.

Danny managed to run before the impact but managed to grab the woman's calf to make her lose her balance, what surprised him was to see how she took advantage of the situation to pull him to the floor with her body weight.

Both on the floor struggled for who would take control of everything, the raven had managed to position himself on top of the ghost with the intention of taking his wrists to prevent him from dominating the situation again. While Ghostface sought the same point of power.

Both circled the floor in their quest for dominance, though in the end the medic had won again, taking advantage of the situation to deliver a punch to, where she assumed it would be, the man's nose. Danny felt the sting of the blow, though it had been somewhat muffled by the mask.

Fanny quickly got up from where she left Ghostface and went for her cane, she had to get out of this place, she didn't want to keep fighting, she didn't want to get in trouble, maybe she could go from this town to North Carolina, they said the bears helped keeping the bodies from being found by eating them, she could leave this town alone for Ghostface.

"Stop where you are." A deep voice said into the air, sounding before her, that was Ghostface, the voice of the father of death. It sounded synthetic, made through some device she assumed was inside the screaming mask he wore.

She had such a situation in front of her that she could only follow the other guy's order. Danny was in pain as he felt the choppy breaths he took as his nostrils ached from the impact; he had taken a few moments before. He had finally spoken after not saying anything during the long standoff the two of them had had that night.

Sore Danny got up from where he stood, if he had to accept anything it was the raven had good strength and combat experience. He felt some of his joint’s thunder as he stood up, he analysed where they both stood, the raven seemed to have intentions of retreating from the spot, he didn't know whether to be flattered that the organ sucker was terrified of him.

"Well, well, Crow, are you afraid of ol' Ghostface." He said mockingly as he watched the raven still standing stiffly in his place, he now standing fully upright, he played a little with his hands thundering his fingers.

Fanny had her head like a Windows of the moment, stuck and unable to function very well, she felt bad to be stuck between swords, but that deep voice hit that troubled relationship she had with her father, she felt the blush burn the entire strip in the distance between her ears. Fuck me, concentration was what she needed not to be attracted to that maniac. Every word that came out of him mesmerized her, whoever had made the voice synthesizers she was grateful with all her heart.

Danny analysed the raven's body language well; he thought well his words what he was going to say to lighten the situation between the two of them. After some time in his head, he decided to give his opinion on the subject.

" Let's make a little deal little crow, you leave the guy downstairs as good as new, without the shit you put in him, and I'll leave you alone, what do you think?" Ghostface started walking towards where Famine was in her paralysis, she was still in that trance in front of this powerful and dominating being.

"I'm... I'm afraid that the effect of the cocktail of drugs I gave him will take an average of 12 hours to stop being active in the body of the affected person." She said with that nervousness of coming out of being focused on who she had in front of her, her accent was thickening with her stuttering at the start of the sentence. She herself was disgusted to hear that she sounded like someone from Birmingham.

"So, you can talk then, eh, little crow?" Danny mocked at the nervousness the doctor seemed to be displaying, processing a little of the data he had given his person. "I mean you left that idiot paralyzed for almost half a day, and for what?" He questioned as he circled her at least five feet away from her, it was like a predator enclosing its prey in a circle of intimidation.

"It... it facilitates extraction and my work; I don't like the difficulties when it comes to extracting supplies." Fanny explained herself to Ghostface, it was complicated to operate with tensed muscles because of what she had previously done to the victim, she knew that doxacurium chloride was widely used in operations and medical procedures. Besides, in an emergency, she could give them another drug and cause a lethal reaction.

Danny was impressed by the medic's words, so if it was true that they stole the organs of their victims and their medical knowledge was professional, maybe he had a professional in front of him.

"Any other suggestions, Crow, speak now or you won't speak again for a good long while." His patience was slowly wearing thin, this was getting them nowhere, he estimated it was now just a little before 3am, there was almost no time to conclude this.

Fanny heard the anger coming out of him, her mind was still in crisis, so she let it plan as quickly as possible a solution to this conflict.

"An alliance... let's have an alliance, Mr. Ghostface, you can kill the gentleman below, I'll take just a little of his blood, we could inform each other about each other's targets so this event will not happen again." Playing with her hands Fanny speaks in nervousness, which was the only plan she had produced in her mind.

His mismatched eyes did not believe what was coming before them, an alliance was that possible, he had thought it, but it had never occurred to him that it would come true, under his mask he had a very curious facial expression, he was amazed and confused, this organ sucker was a box of surprises.

"Oh, no, no, that good-for-nothing is of no use to me in the fucking condition you left him in, Raven." Ghostface continued to circle the woman as he saw the signs of nervousness in his opponent. "Keep what you already damaged, but next time, I hope you get me a victim just as good as that idiot down there, then you'll have your alliance." He stopped his circling to stand in front of the doctor, cocking his head again to convince him.

Fanny was shocked by the fact that the stupidest plan her head had ever made in a moment of stress, she took a deep breath, she nimbly mulled over all the pros and cons it would take to start collaborating with this being of evil. She sighed softly proceeding to speak.

"Mr. Ghostface, I find it an excellent deal sir, I really do re-express my apologies about this incident." Fanny played a little with her belt, she disliked showing a feeling of weakness at times like these.

Danny was pleased to see the submission that the raven took before his person, it was curious to see how at a few simple words they were already allied.

"Well Raven, gather your stuff, it's time for you to show me if you're worth it." He turned to start going for his knife after it had been ejected from his hands during the fight. He turned to look out of the corner of his eye noticing how the medic took slow steps of hesitation towards where their baton was.

Being the gentleman that he was he decided to let the other go down before him, gradually Famine came down the same staircase they entered. Both went down patiently until they returned to where the future corpse was.

The doctor entering through the window, went to where she had left her briefcase, during the entire process she felt Ghostface's gaze on her back. Her posture was now calmer, she was in her comfort zone, this was what she was dedicated to her could not fail, it had to be perfect, peace, peace that was what she needed.

Her expert hands opened the kit, she extracted her main tools as she sat on her calves next to John's paralyzed body, she saw his terrified look before her, she adjusted her gloves a little, she felt him sweat from the effort he had made during the struggle with Ghostface.

She inhaled deeply to cut John's shirt with the scissors from the kit, she saw the scalpel she had in her dominant hand, she brought it close to the man's neck, a clean cut was what she needed. And that's what she did, she cut the man's jugular vein leaving a container where she began to collect the blood that began to come out of his neck, she heard how the man's breathing began to become difficult, she had to act carefully for what was coming.

She went to the torso, agilely took the scalpel to stick it in the beginning of the sternum and began to lower it to where his hip began, she took out her autopsy scissors to break the man's sternum, took the scalpel and began to cut the connections of the organs she needed for her supplies, took the rest of the vials she brought with her and filled them.

With discretion she turned to see where the other murderer was, he was mesmerized by every movement she made from how she moved her hands on the scalpel, to how she extracted everything from the chest cavity that was edible, to her collection of blood. Turning her focus back to her work she pulled out the thread and her metal needle to proceed to sew up the opening she had made in the man, with her hand she steadily began to penetrate the skin and cell the damage she had done to it. When she managed to finish closing the entire incision in the thorax, she proceeded with the neck incision as she saw a little more than half of the vessel filled with that thick red liquid.

Seeing her work finished she got up from where she was sitting and went for her cooler to put the necessary contents, when she finished, she turned to see Ghostface face to face, waiting for at least a comment on her actions.

"Interesting, you're an excellent surgeon for a bird, Crow." Danny commented observing from his position the retouching the medic had done on the corpse, he was impressed, he needed a picture of this work. "Dear Raven, I hope you don't mind me documenting with a photo your artistic work we have here, do you?" he questioned the other, his only response being a nod.

He pulled out his trusty instant camera, Philly, and proceeded with the captures, he wanted to leave rune on the scene as a small clue that he had also been present at the scene. To Fanny this fact was somewhat strange, why he wished to see and preserve her crime, it would be to later extortion her if things went wrong, but she decided not to comment on it.

"It's time to go, Raven, I hope you are satisfied to know that we now have an alliance, at some point I will give you the details of our meeting points, until the next funeral, dear Raven." Danny being happy with what he had witnessed and documented decided it was time to withdraw from the scene altogether, though he decided to add something before he withdrew completely. "Oh, by the way, a little warning, betray me and you'll end up gutted like a fucking fish, got it. Bye." He modified his tone to emphasize the seriousness of the matter to Famine, made a stabbing gesture with his knife with his hand and proceeded to retreat out the window with that cute "Bye" that elongated the "e" at the end of the expression.

The blue-eyed girl was impressed by what she had experienced that night, she was watching the terrified look of the corpse she had caused, she sighed and went to close his eyelids so he could finally rest after all the stress he suffered that night, she bent down next to the body and lifted it with both of her arms, she took the body and went to John's room to leave him there.

She placed him in a pose where it looked like he was sleeping peacefully, she arranged him and covered him with his sheets, she took out her card leaving it on John's bedside table, she was happy thinking about the recognition that could come out of this.

The downside of tonight was that now she would have to find someone with the same profile as John to make amends for her problem with Ghostface, she would have to balance very well how she used the supplies she extracted from here.

Ha, who would have thought she would now be friends with another serial killer. She had to go to sleep if she wanted to function a bit the next day. She took her items and proceeded to go out the window leaving everything locked, except the door which she had unlocked so it would be easier to find the body.

Now she would love to get to her bed and proceed to go into a comatose state until she had to go to work, unless she gave the excuse that she woke up sick and couldn't go.

Friends, eh, how bad could it be to have a friend.

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