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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 26 days

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Sweet Summer | Pt. 1

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader

Summary: The Xavier Institude is being renovated for the summer. With nowhere else to go, your best friends Billy and Tommy offer you to stay with them and their mom. But what happens when feelings start to spark between the two of you?

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Trauma, Eventual Smut (in 2nd part), Age Gap (20yo reader, 37yo Wanda)

Tags: mutant!Reader (shadow manipulation), different timeline, everyone is alive (except Pietro, sorry Pietro), no Sokovia Accords, no Thanos, Wanda was young when she joined the Avengers, retired Natasha, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, but they switch a bit, Vision is a bit of an asshole, divorced!Wanda, mainly cutesy, bit of angst tho

"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked both of your friends as you stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Summer was here, and with it, Professor X decided to do some renovations to the Institute.

For most of the mutants, it changed nothing since they would go home for the summer, but for you, it meant two months in the streets - well not really since Xavier offered all students who couldn't go home to stay at a hotel with the resident teachers, an uncomfortable solution in your opinion that left you with a bad taste in your mouth, like you needed the charity (which you did) before going off to University. Lucky for you, your two best friends had offered you to stay with them. It took a bit of convincing, a lot of reassuring that it wouldn't bother their mother, but in the end Billy and Tommy managed to have you agree to come with them for the holidays.

"We're absolutely certain, stop worrying that much," Tommy said, speeding around to finish preparing his suitcase at the last minute. He disappeared from the room and Billy softly smiled at you.

"He's right. And mom already agreed. She always wants to meet our friends, so I'm sure she'd be disappointed if you changed your mind."

You wanted to ask him if he was telling you all that just to make you feel better, but you fought it off. It was a nasty habit you had to always feel like you were a burden and a bother. The twins always found a way to reassure you, so you knew better than to question them some more. You gave Billy a nod, and watched as Tommy disappeared from the room and came back a second later with more things to stuff in his suitcase. He threw everything in and closed it after fighting it for a few minutes.

"I'm ready!" He declared proudly in a hero pose. You rolled your eyes and looked at the time on your phone.

"Only ten minutes late, a new record," you teased him. The speedster was somehow always late with everything, which in turn made you and Billy late. It would drive the teachers crazy, since the three of you were a package deal. You had been since you were young mutants just joining the Institute, despite being older than them by two years - you were still in the same level classes as them. This proximity never translated during holidays when they were away, beyond staying in contact with your phones. It took you being forced out to finally agree to go to their place.

"We should go now," the more responsible Billy declared as he started to drag his suitcase after him with his powers. "Mom has been waiting for us."

Anxiousness filled you for a second, but you took a deep breath and you followed the twins. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs, saying goodbye to the other people who were getting ready to leave. There were a few fist bumps and brief hugs as your classmates and teachers warmly returned the goodbyes. It was the last time you were going to see some of them as you were leaving for university at the end of the summer holidays. This left you feeling sad and nostalgic, but also happy that you were progressing in life despite everything that happened to you. Those feelings washed over you as you walked through the doors of the Institute into the sun. A bunch of parents were waiting there to take their kids home. You never got to join them until now, but you watched from afar plenty of time, never daring to step closer and meet your friends' parents.

Today, Ms. Maximoff was alone. A few years ago she divorced her husband and father of her children. It had been hard on Billy and Tommy, but eventually, and with some help from therapy, they got over it. They still saw him regularly, and you were going to meet him when they were going to spend a month at his place, taking you with them. Because there was no way you would spend a month alone with their mother.

The twins spotted her first and waved at her from afar. You turned your head to have a good look at her and almost stopped on the spot when you did. She was gorgeous. Her wavy light brown hair, piercing green eyes, small nose, and lips were working all together to give her this unique charming look. But most of all, her smile was radiant. As you kept looking at her, you missed a step in the stairs and almost fell. Luckily, Tommy got you and straightened you up. You could feel all eyes on you for a brief instant, making you blush profusely but briefly as you kept walking, looking where you were going this time. Only when the twins stopped did you stop too and looked up. And there she was, right in front of you, in a white with sunflowers sundress and an open red hoodie. You couldn't help but gawk again while Billy gave her a hug. Tommy noticed and smiled proudly.

"Never seen an Avenger up close before?" He asked, so sure that it was the reason why, and you weren't about to contradict him.

"No, never." Especially not one so utterly beautiful. You shook your head and got a hold of yourself while Ms. Maximoff was hugging Tommy and finally stepped closer to her to extend your hand. "I'm glad to finally meet you Ms. Maximoff."

You barely had time to get those words out before she took your hand and pulled you in a strong hug. You were immediately overwhelmed by her scent and her warmth. You were paralyzed.

"Thank you for looking over Tommy and Billy. And please, call me Wanda."

"Oh, huh, sure, I can do that," you answered before she let you go, her hands still on your shoulders.

For a moment, your eyes met and you swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks burn up before she let go for good. It was like there was a current going through the air and into your body, something you both shared. Your heart skipped a beat. You took a deep breath.

"Let's get going, put your packs in the trunk of the car."

And just like that, it was as if nothing had happened. To be fair, you probably just imagined the connection going on between you and Wanda, so you tried to ignore the way you felt and simply put your bag in the trunk of the car. It gave you enough time to recover before you slid in the back of the car with Billy, after the twins fought for the place at the front.

There was a lively conversation between the twins and their mom, and music, and as you watched the scenery go by the window you found yourself smiling. That was until you arrived in front of a colonial revival style house in the suburbs. It was painted white, with two stories, and a large balcony on the right. A tree in the front yard hid most of the left side of the house, and the lawn was well kept. You followed everyone inside and a smile graced your lips when you saw how homey the place was. It would have completely relaxed you if not for that gnarly feeling of intruding on the family. It was like vines growing alongside your heart, preparing to crush it at any sign that this was true. That thought was interrupted when Wanda addressed you.

"Y/n? Come, I'll show you to your room." She spoke softly and grabbed you by the wrist to direct you towards the stairs. Her hand was soft and warm, and the simple contact elicited a tingling sensation up your arm. "This is Tommy's room, and here is Billy's. This is the bathroom. Here is my room, and here is yours."

She opened the door to the guest bedroom. It was simple, impersonal, with a king sized bed, a dresser, and a full length mirror. Close to the bed there was a door leading to the big balcony, and you guessed by the way things were in the house that Wanda had that same access. She entered the room and went to the door to the balcony to open it.

"I aired the room a few times in preparation of you coming but it still feels a bit stuffy," she pointed out as she looked outside. You shook your head and put down your bag on the bed, offering your host a smile.

"It's no worries, that room is great!"

"I'm glad you think so." She turned around and looked at you, examining your features for an instant. You tried not to squirm under her gaze, before her next words shocked you to your core. "Are you going out with Tommy?"

Your eyes went big like saucers, you opened your mouth once or twice before finally your shock settled and a laugh came out of you. It quickly grew bigger and bigger until you had tears in your eyes. Wanda frowned in confusion until you calmed down enough to answer her.

"No, we're not… I'm not interested in him like that. Actually I'm not interested in men like that," you confessed. You knew Billy was gay and came out years ago to his parents, so Wanda shouldn't have any trouble with this. There was still some brief silence before she smiled at you.

"Good." Her smile got more mysterious and you tilted your head, unsure of what it meant. You took it as a good sign, that she simply was glad that she didn't have to worry about Tommy dating you. "Okay, I'm going to let you organize your stuff. I have some work this afternoon, so have fun with the boys."

"Thank you. And thank you again for letting me stay."

"They talk so much about you, it's my pleasure to finally get to meet you."

You nodded, and Wanda left the room. You followed her movements with your eyes, looking her up and down before catching yourself.

"She's your best friends' mom, come on," you muttered to yourself before starting to take care of your bag.

It had been a week since you arrived at the Maximoff's household, and you had been having fun so far. You enjoyed the pool the most, having fun with Tommy and Billy while Wanda was away most of the time on Avenger business. There had been a few touches between the both of you, a hand on your shoulder while she was passing you, lingering close to you when bringing food on the table. You were sure that you were reading too much into it, but at the same time your heart would skip a beat every time it happened, your skin lighting on fire just by her simple presence. You tried your best to ignore it, of course, and so far it was working. With any chance it was going to pass soon enough and you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the process.

"Hey, Y/n. I just received a message from a childhood friend, he's having a party, you wanna go?"

"Thanks for asking Tommy," Billy said with a roll of his eyes, sitting in an inflatable donut in the pool.

"I already know you'll go, dummy. So, Y/n?"

You laughed at the twins' antiques and approached the edge of the pool. A party would be nice, and it would take you out of the house. Maybe even make you think of something else than Wanda and her mesmerizing green eyes. There were no reasons for you not to go.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

"Great! It's in a week so we should go buy some clothes for it!" Tommy exclaimed before he answered the text from his friend.

"I already have clothes," You groaned before pulling yourself out of the water. It's not that you didn't like getting new clothes, if you were honest, it was that you didn't have the money for it. Something that you had no intention to reveal to your friends.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

You rolled your eyes, but you knew there was no way out of this. You put your hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright, we can go all together, you big baby," you smirked as Tommy frowned and put down his phone. He sped at you and pushed you in the water in retaliation, before he jumped in turn to start attacking you. You fought back, ending up climbing on his back like a spider, when Wanda approached the pool with a raised eyebrow. She was wearing a smart casual business outfit. You didn't notice her immediately, not before Billy got to explain what was happening.

"Why don't I come with you? I have an outing soon," Wanda offered as she looked at you and Tommy with an amused grin, now that you noticed her, stopping your playfight. Her eyes were boring into you, waiting for you to answer the question more than anyone else.

"Sure. Yeah, that would be nice." You scratched the back of your neck, a smile on your face as you looked back at her.

The moment was interrupted when Billy's inflatable bumped into you. You all discussed the details and decided to go tomorrow morning, when there would be less people than usual. It meant waking up early, but it wouldn't be a problem for you; you usually slept very little.

When morning came, you prepared yourself and went downstairs to surprise everyone with breakfast. You started with eggs and bacon, then pancakes. You were preparing coffee when footsteps came from the stairs.

"It smells delicious," Wanda said before you could even see her. When she finally turned the corner to the kitchen, you smiled at her. She was wearing her hair up in a loose bun, a large gray sweater, and some black sweatpants. Even just in her relaxed state she was gorgeous, and you almost burned a pancake looking at her.

"Thank you. Why don't you sit down and I'll bring you your breakfast." She nodded and went to sit down at the table in the sunroom under the balcony, crossing her arms on it. You prepared a plate and brought it to her.

"What's the occasion?" She asked when you were putting down the plate.

"No occasion, I just want to pull my weight around here." You cleaned the traces of fingers on the plate with a dishcloth while turning the plate properly. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I feel like I'm at one of Tony's fancy brunch."

"Never been to one of those, but it sure sounds like the food would be good."

"It was." For a fraction of a second, her smile turned sad. "It was one of the first things I experienced after coming to the States. I couldn't enjoy the food properly, but having everyone with me… it was special. Especially after…" she cut herself, her eyes lost somewhere away. She came back quickly and turned to you.

"Thank you so much." She put her hand on yours briefly as she thanked you, and your heart skipped a beat. You grinned proudly.

"Of course."

With that you went back to the kitchen, feeling rejuvenated by the simple contact and closer to Wanda after the short conversation, despite being worried about what she decided to hide. You knew you could probably just do some research on her history and come to your own conclusions based on context, but it felt intrusive, so you decided against it. Once you were back behind the stove, Billy then Tommy appeared one after the other, in different states of awakening. With them finally present, you also sat down to enjoy breakfast, then everyone left to go get ready for the day.

You were quick to arrive at the clothing store and grab whatever caught your fancy. You knew you weren't going to buy anything but it didn't mean you couldn't enjoy trying on nice clothes. There was a leather jacket that caught your attention and you put it on your arm to try it later as you kept going around the store. You looked at some things with Wanda while the boys were in the other section of the store.

"What do you think of this dress?" Wanda asked you as she held a nice black and white garment with a bit of a vintage style in front of herself. You tried to imagine her in it, and if you were honest to yourself you thought she'd probably even look good in a potato bag.

"I think it'd look great!" The woman smiled at you and added it to the small pile of clothes she had collected so far. Now you knew where Tommy's sense of style came from at least.

With that in mind, you joined back with the boys to try on what you had found in the store. Like you, Billy only had a few items, so you went first to try the clothes, putting on a mini show. You really liked the leather jacket, the twins and Wanda complimenting you on it, and you thought for a second that maybe you should buy it. But upon seeing the price again you grimaced and decided to put it with the rest of the clothes you couldn't buy anyway.

After you, Wanda and Tommy started their own mini show of trying their clothes. It was the occasion for you to admire the woman some more without feeling like a creep. You were right in your earlier assessment; Wanda could wear anything and look gorgeous. As both Tommy and Wanda went back into the fitting room, Billy decided to wander back into the store, leaving you alone on the bench where you waited for the rest of the show.

"Billy? Can you come help me with the zipper of my dress?" Wanda called, and you looked around. With your friend gone, you hesitantly approached the fitting room curtain.

"He went back into the store," you simply said to her. A few floating seconds passed.

"Can you help me then?"

You hesitated. On one hand, being in such a small space with her not technically fully dressed seemed like a bad idea for the blooming crush you had on her, and on the other hand, it's not like she was naked or like it was anything more than innocent. In the end, you got a hold of yourself.

"Yes. Yes I can." You entered the fitting room quickly so as to not expose her. There she was, her back turned on you, her back in full view while she was holding the dress up to cover the rest of her body. Your mouth felt dry when you came closer to her.

"I can't catch the zipper, so if you could just…" she trailed off but you understood clearly what she needed.

"Okay, let me just…"

You chased a few strands of hair away from her back to go with the rest, the soft texture burning on your fingers. You noticed a few goosebumps on her skin at this point, and you wanted nothing more than to trace along them on her back. It was easy to imagine the silky skin under your fingertips, the warmth of it against your lips, and the taste between your teeth. There was a dull ache inside of you, like a deep resonance that called to you. But you controlled yourself. With as much delicacy as you could manage, you took the zipper between your fingers and brought it up carefully until it hit the top of the dress.

"There you go," you almost whispered before looking up. Your eyes met in the mirror and you could swear you saw the same hunger as yours deep inside her green irises.

"Thank you," she told you, and you saw her neck bobbed slightly as she swallowed hard. Electricity ran through you and your hand raised, ready to meet hers so you could turn her around and get more than you did the past week.

"Where is everyone?" You heard Tommy ask. You stopped in your tracks, back to reality. After blinking a few times, you took a step back and came out of the fitting room trying to look casual.

"Sorry, I was helping Wanda with something."

She actually came out in turn and showed the dress to Tommy. She looked like nothing had happened - and technically nothing had - but you could still feel the blood filling your ears like the single most important decision of your life had been taken away from you. You contained a sigh and went back to sit while the rest of the time spent in the store flew by.

A few days went by, during which you tried to control your growing feelings. You quickly realized it was a futile endeavor the one day Wanda joined you to swim in the morning. Seeing her in her swimming suit, you couldn't help but appreciate the display of skin and how utterly beautiful she looked - leftover traces of pregnancy and all. She caught you looking at her a few times, and without ever missing a beat she smiled at you. It was a simple moment that cemented your attraction to her and whatever else you weren't ready to admit you were feeling. But despite that simple interaction, the peace that came with her small reciprocation didn't last.

You were playing on the PS5 with Billy, while Tommy was outside working on his tan. This day had been slow, until now when Wanda started getting ready for her outing.

"I'm almost ready to leave," Wanda said as she adjusted her long hair over her shoulder, then her carmine dress. She put on her heels and looked herself over in the mirror. "I left you with enough money for whatever you want to order, don't break the house, I'll be back late so be in bed before I come back."

"You hear that Tommy?" Billy relayed.

"No, sorry, the sun is blocking my ears!"

You paused the game and stood up with Billy to see her out when you noticed the luxurious car waiting in front of the house. A man stood up next to it, dressed in a relaxed suit. You frowned slightly as you looked back at Wanda, and it hit you. This 'outing' was definitely a date. Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach.

"Have fun, mom," Billy said as he gave his mother a hug. Meanwhile you stayed standing in the hallway, frozen as every little sign you thought you saw her give to you came to your mind. Had you been imagining it? Your focus came back on Wanda when you felt her gaze on you, very briefly. You took a deep breath to ground yourself.

"I'll see you all tomorrow," she said before she disappeared through the door. Without another word, Billy taped you in the shoulder on his way to the console. It was enough to get you to automatically join him, your mind lost in speculations.

You spent the rest of the evening coming in and out of your thoughts, unable to share them with anyone, even when the conversation veered towards Wanda's date as you were eating your pizza.

"So, what did the guy look like?" Tommy asked his brother, who shrugged.

"He was a bit far so I didn't get to see well enough but he looked okay."

"What about you, Y/n, saw anything?"

You went back to the moment you saw the man in your head, only the feeling of hating the man for no reason. "There was nothing special besides his cool car."

Tommy groaned at your answer, looking at his pizza with distaste.

"You guys suck at gossiping, I swear."

You laughed lightly, and Billy pushed the last slice of pizza towards you as he spoke very wisely.

"Mom doesn't want us to meet the guy, we shouldn't force it. It's only their second date, there is really no reason to push."

You took the pizza slice, listening intently as you ate.

"I just wish she'd date someone fun or something," Tommy pouted.

"You can't think only of yourself." Billy had a point there, and his brother knew it, but it also hit you. You had to consider them in the equation of whatever you were feeling, whether Wanda liked you back or not. You couldn't just keep thirsting over their mom like that. With that new revelation in mind, you all watched a movie and went to bed.

The shadows around you were your only company, until you heard someone open the door downstairs. By the sounds she made, it had to be Wanda who was trying to be discreet as she was coming up the stairs. You followed her tracks around the house with your hearing, until she was finally in her bedroom. You closed your eyes, thinking she was going to go to bed but instead she opened the door to the balcony and took one of the chairs to sit on it. You frowned slightly, trying to visualize what she was doing but there was no point, you couldn't hear a thing anymore. You stayed in bed some more time until the curiosity was killing you, then you stood up and joined Wanda on the balcony. She was leaning against the railing, back in comfortable clothes, and looking at the sky hanging so far away from her. There was a glass and a bottle of wine sitting next to her. It was clear that she was lost in thoughts and didn't notice you.

"How was your date?" You asked rather bluntly, surprising her. She turned around quickly, wisps of red at her fingertips that vanished when she saw it was only you.

"Why aren't you asleep?" She returned on the defensive, her accent coming through for once. You approached and leaned against the railing like she did earlier.

"I just couldn't find sleep. Your turn now."

Wanda let out a sigh and resumed her position, not looking at you as she answered.

"I don't think I'm going to see him again." That answer made you feel conflicted. Your heart was making jumps and bounds at that, but her voice was so dejected that you couldn't help but feel bad for her. She grabbed her glass of wine and drank a sip. "Honestly I don't even know why I accepted a second date to begin with."

"That bad?" You tried in support to allow her to empty her mind.

"He just loved talking about himself, would try to order in my stead, and he had questionable opinions. To the point where I wondered why he would go on a date with me, a lowly woman with powers." You frowned at that last bit. Clearly the man was an idiot with an inflated ego.

"If he was that bad, why did you give him a second chance?" There was no blame in your voice, just pure curiosity. She took some time before she answered you, drinking a few more sips of wine.

"Part of it is loneliness, I suppose. Another part is…" she trailed off, her head briefly turning to look at you. "It doesn't really matter."

You hummed, half catching on to what she wasn't telling you. That you were part of the equation, even if she hadn't known you for long. But you had had your epiphany that night, so knowing that didn't matter anymore, you couldn't betray the twins.

"Loneliness sure sucks," you simply agreed. You took the glass of wine from her hand to take a sip while looking at her. Even in the dark you could see a small blush on her cheeks. "Makes us do dumb stuff."

"Aren't you a little bit young for that?" She arched an eyebrow at you and you smirked in return.

"I mean… yes," you admitted. "But not by much. Plus, it's not the first time I drink."

You winked at her and took one more sip before you put down the glass. She took it in turn and drank some more, then refilled it. There was peaceful, comfortable silence between the both of you as you shared the glass.

"Can I ask you something?" Wanda finally asked you, turning more towards you with a concerned but curious look. You shrugged slightly.

"Go ahead."

"How come… where…" she fiddled with her fingers and changed the leg she was most leaning against. "Where are your parents?"

You looked at her, no surprise on your face that she would ask that. It made sense after all that she would worry about it considering that you were invading her place for most of the summer. You linked your hands in front of you and looked away.

"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. They're monsters." Memories started to surface as your eyes darkened. Visions of a dark basement and blood, of horrible words and terrible faith. When her hand landed on your shoulder, it took you out of those moments and anchored you to the now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before her arms linked around you in a tentative hug. Her warmth and smell enveloped you like a reassuring blanket and you found yourself melting against her. Your vision became blurry; a few tears trailed down your cheeks. It took you some time, but eventually you calmed down enough to start enjoying the contact with Wanda.

You took a deep breath as you nudged your face closer to her neck and enjoyed the smell of cinnamon, sandalwood, and wine coming off of her. One of her hands made small circles on your back and you relaxed some more, until you emerged from the embrace and your gazes locked. The iridescent greens of her eyes were dancing under the moonlight like otherworldly flames ready to engulf you in its fire. It would have been so easy in this instant to lean closer and capture her lips, caress her rosy cheeks, and make her yours. And she did lean closer, her eyes fluttering shut, as you yourself started to initiate a kiss. But as you felt her breath on your lips, and could almost taste her supple mouth, a small voice in your head stopped you.

"I… I can't," you said, and she straightened up, looking red in shame.

"Oh. It's… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" she hid her face behind her hand and turned around, her back to you. Your lips formed a line and you took a step back.

"No, it's not you. I just… now… it's not a good time."

"No, you're right. We can't."

"I'm sorry," you said last before you fled to your bedroom, leaving Wanda alone on the balcony.

The dark basement had been your home for the last two years. At first, it wasn't that bad. You were in chains, but you got three meals a day and your parents would come and see you, trying to understand what happened, and encourage you to lose your powers somehow. And you tried, but you could always feel them in you, lurking in each shadow that you could see.

Then came the torture. New ways to deprive you of your 'gift from Satan'. First the exorcisms, then the cold of winter, then the electroshocks, then, then, then. One day, they simply didn't show up. No food and no water were brought to you. But no torture either. At first it happened maybe one time a week, they would forget you. It quickly became a habit. Two days a week, three days a week, five days a week. They would make sure you stayed alive, but it was like they had forgotten you. You were getting weaker and weaker, until one day you heard it.

Your doom.

A baby crying upstairs.

And at that moment you could feel in your guts what was their next step, what they needed to do to make sure that baby would be blessed by a life in the light of God. You almost accepted it. You felt so weak, ready to depart that torturous world that had been so unfair to you. So when the steps came down, you did nothing. When you saw the hammer, you did nothing. You laid there like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

He sat down next to you on your makeshift bed and caressed your hair with a tenderness you hadn't known the past two years. He told you it was going to be okay, that your suffering was over. You wanted it to be. Until you saw his smile amidst the tears, the happiness of finally getting rid of you overtaking him. It made you sick. He brought his hammer up. And then there was blood. Not yours, but his, as you held up a dagger made out of shadows. You stabbed him a second time. A third time. Almost went for a fourth but you couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was blurred by your tears and his screams.

She must have heard him, because she came downstairs. You threatened her for the key, and once the chains were down, you ran. You were no lamb. You were alive.

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #idk how to tag #x reader #swsu fic

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azrielstaylorsversion · 3 months

Text

Secrets

Azriel x reader fluff

You and Azriel have been secretly together and mated for multiple years. When Azriel proposes to you, the two of you feel the need to tell your family about your relationship.

"We should tell them." you said to your mate.

Azriel's hand stopped moving up and down your bare back. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, a smile forming on your face. "We've kept this from them for way too long. I know we both like to be private, but I think this is for the best." you told him. "There is no danger. There is no one who can currently use this against us. We are just way too used to this secretive stuff."

Azriel chuckled and kissed you, holding you closely. "We'll need to come up with a way to tell them." he started. "It's not like we can walk into the room holding hands and yell; Hey! Just wanna let you guys know, we've been mated for many years and now we are also engaged and we are going to marry soon!"

You let out a small chuckle. "We could actually do that. Or we let them figure out on their own." you put your hand on Azriel's cheek.

"That would actually be way more fun." he said.

Being two of the most important spies of the Night Court, the two of you knew how to hide your relationship. Sure your family knew about your close friendship, but they didn't know you were together. Or better, mated.

At the start of your relationship you and Azriel had decided that you would keep things private because of your job. But since everything had calmed down in Prythian, you could tell them.

It wasn't like you didn't trust your family. You just wanted to be private. Both of you had been private your entire life, so this wouldn't be anything new.

They also never questioned when the two of you disappeared for hours or even days. They just thought you were attending some important business.

There had been a few close calls with being caught. For example; falling asleep together on the couch or being found in bed together, but every time it worked out.

"So, we just act like we're together?" he asked you.

It sounded so stupid. Maybe it was. "Yes. Simple as that."

"So, I can kiss you in public?" he asked with a small grin.

"If you want to. It's more safe in the world than before, I don't think anyone seeing us together would cause us any harm." you told him, smiling. "And we can have our wedding with our family attending."

You could feel Azriel's happiness down the bond. "Let's give them a while to process all of this once they get it. Then we can plan the wedding."

You placed a kiss on his cheek. "Of course. But first let them figure out on their own. It'll be fun."

The two of you were having way too much fun with this.

It had been a little over a week since deciding to stop hiding. It wasn't like the two of you had full make out sessions in front of them, but you often shared small touches or smiles with each other.

Cassian had been the most suspicious out of all of them, but no one dared to comment on your changed behavior towards each other.

No one had even said a word about Feyre catching you walk out of Azriel's room yesterday morning, in your sleeping clothes. You had just casually waved while she had looked at you with confusion

You and Azriel had been sitting together at every family gathering. He would even hold your hand or place a hand on your thigh under the table. Your family had given you more questioned looks, but again, they didn't bother to say anything out loud.

Feyre had made a small comment on it during your girls night a few days ago. You had just shrugged and continued talking about something else, but you never denied it.

"Are you ready?" Azriel's voice sounded on the other side of the door.

You walked towards the door, opening it so you could walk out.

Azriel smiled at the sight of you. There was another fancy family dinner tonight. You were all dressed up, wearing a beautiful blue dress to match Azriel's siphons.

"You look amazing." he told you as you walked forward and put your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

You brought your face close to his. "You don't look too bad yourself." you whispered before closing the distance and kissing him.

A cough made you pull away from him, your body immediately moving towards the sound.

Rhys was standing a few feet away from you with a shit eating grin on his face.

You and Azriel both stayed quiet while Rhys's grin only widened. "I've known for a while now, don't worry."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, you knew? Why didn't you say anything?" you questioned.

Rhys chuckled. "I know how secretive and private the two of you like to be. I kept it quiet. No one else knows." he told you.

You sighed. "We have actually been trying to show it to you guys, but no one asks any questions. They just watch." you said. "How'd you even know?"

"I knew you were Az's type from the day I met you all those decades ago. This was going to happen eventually." Rhysand said.

"Thank you. For keeping it a secret." Azriel spoke suddenly.

Rhys moved to lean against the wall. "So how long have the two of you actually been together?"

You grinned. "Only together? Or maybe more?" you said.

Rhys's face changed. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't you ask again during dinner so everyone will know." you told your friend while Azriel put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Rhys had been staring at you and your mate for almost an hour. You and Azriel were sitting closely to each other, his arm over the back of your chair.

"Will you explain it now?" Rhysand's voice sounded through the room, the question directed towards you.

Everyone noticed Rhys's eyes on you and Azriel, so they all turned to look at you.

"Finally someone who says anything!" Cassian groaned. "I thought I was going crazy, but you guys are... closer than normal."

You sat up straighter, Azriel's hand moving from the chair to your thigh, giving you an encouraging squeeze.

"Okay, please don't be mad at us..." you were immediately cut off by Feyre.

"Are you two finally together!" she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together.

"No--yes, what? Wait what do you mean finally?" you said, totally forgetting to make your own point.

"I mean, we've all known the two of you would be perfect together and--" Rhys put a hand on Feyre's shoulder.

"Feyre darling, I really love your enthusiasm, but I think we should let Y/N and Azriel speak first." he told his mate gently.

Feyre smiled at her mate. "Of course."

You cleared your throat. "Yes, we are together." you turned your head to look at Azriel. He only nodded and smiled.

You turned your head back to your family. "In fact, we've been mated for multiple years and we're planning on also marrying soon." you spitted out.

Everyone looked at the two of you with wide eyes.

"You two are mates?" Mor asked, her face showing signs of happiness.

"For multiple years?" Cassian asked, his mouth almost hanging open. "How the hell didn't I know this?" he almost yelled.

"No one did. Only Rhys figured out that we are together recently." Azriel told his brother, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I should've known the two of you weren't always working together. Going away on missions every other week." Amren said while leaning back in her chair.

"Just to clear things up, we actually do go on missions together for the missions. Not only to be alone." you told her, even though you understood why she thought that.

"I've seen you guys sneak out of each others room multiple times." Nesta said. "I don't know why I didn't see it earlier. I just thought the two of you worked closely a lot."

"Wait, did you say you were planning on marrying?" Mor asked happily.

You nodded, holding up your hand and removing the glamour around the beautiful ring around your finger.

"Does this mean we can help you plan the wedding?" Feyre said, almost jumping from her seat.

You chuckled. "Yes, of course."

You put your other hand on top of Azriel's, who still rested on top of your thigh.

He stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation, but you could feel his love and confort down the bond.

Everyone took turns in inspecting the beautiful ring Azriel had gotten you, congratulation the two of you.

Luckily they understood why you had kept it from them. That it had been for your own safety, but that it was now finally time to share this with the world.

After a while everyone had returned to their own food and conversations, leaving you to talk with Azriel.

"That went better than expected. I thought they might get mad." you told your mate, leaning into his warmth.

"Of course not." he ensured you, putting a hand on your cheek.

You smiled at him as he leaned in to kiss you, and you gladly let him even though it felt a bit unnatural to do this in front of your family.

But even after years of being mated you couldn't get enough of him.

"I'm never going to get used to this." Cassian's voice made you break apart from Azriel, who sighed at his brothers words.

Feyre was also staring at you, a wide grin on her face.

"Can you just shut up." you groaned at Cassian, trying to hold your laugh. His offended face was the funniest thing ever.

Mor clapped her hands together, grabbing everyones attention. "So when are we going to be planning the wedding?"

You turned to face Azriel again, smiling at your mate. "Soon."

#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader

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reiderwriter · 11 months

Text

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died.

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you.

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me."

"Sir, with all due respect -"

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly.

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss."

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly.

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies.

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes.

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?"

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds."

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss.

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct.

–X–

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle.

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off.

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too.

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either."

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you.

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims."

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims."

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table.

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in.

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you.

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer."

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you.

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be.

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement.

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then.

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more.

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid.

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee.

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him.

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand.

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position.

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed.

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence.

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks.

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky.

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of.

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.”

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well.

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.”

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back.

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.”

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station.

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman.

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back.

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss.

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you.

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now.

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers.

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path.

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk.

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer.

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book.

"Yes, get this bitch off of me."

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made.

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become.

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently?

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-"

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?"

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up.

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks.

After making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads.

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together.

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice."

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same.

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here."

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass.

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand."

You straightened in your chair, listening closer.

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you.

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure.

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved."

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone.

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered.

"What?"

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty."

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in.

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking.

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences.

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp."

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body.

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear.

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin.

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations.

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch."

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest.

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X–

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation.

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile.

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day.

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services.

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team.

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over."

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow.

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar.

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar.

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly.

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead.

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you.

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner.

Surely enough you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van.

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks.

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially.

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you.

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again.

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you.

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up.

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching.

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat."

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly.

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left.

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck.

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin.

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now?

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears.

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss.

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out."

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man.

"What do you want us to do?"

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?"

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood.

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were.

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking.

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside."

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull.

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it.

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking.

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied.

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more."

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him.

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel.

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants.

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him.

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway.

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom.

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth.

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl."

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand.

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off."

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits.

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

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atlabeth · 5 months

Text

dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.2k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake.

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point.

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel.

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there.

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always.

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.”

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?”

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.”

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.”

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says.

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes.

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says.

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.”

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs.

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.”

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.”

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file.

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene.

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house.

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt.

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control.

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics.

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it.

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything.

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect.

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.”

“What has he been charged for?”

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail a little less than a year ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs.

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind.

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive.

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.”

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh.

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising.

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock.

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford.

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.”

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?”

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?”

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says.

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…”

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house.

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all.

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub.

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.”

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?”

He nods. “I had a change of heart.”

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.”

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.”

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Louis area.”

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him.

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things:

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be.

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school.

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts.

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says.

You glower at him, but you stay silent.

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.”

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.”

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?”

You nod. “He lives with me.”

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

“Why is that?” Hotch asks.

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too.

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going.

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.”

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.”

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?”

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you.

“Really?”

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him.

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her.

And he didn’t even know when she died.

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad.

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went last year.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says.

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb.

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.”

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.”

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even.

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.”

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.”

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.”

“Do you want them to?”

“…No.”

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.”

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.”

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.”

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says.

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.”

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.”

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door.

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again.

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up.

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?”

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.”

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.”

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case—

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.

You’ve changed a lot. So has he.

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him.

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind.

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!”

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.”

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts.

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief.

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe.

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused.

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss.

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.”

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.”

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses.

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once.

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck.

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on.

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity.

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs.

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air.

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger.

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it.

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing.

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people.

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong.

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you.

Because god— what are the odds?

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother?

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years.

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time.

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you.

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.”

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties.

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?”

“Not one for small talk,” you remark.

“I never have been.”

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.”

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now.

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face.

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.”

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.”

“And home is?”

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.”

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says.

“Sources can lie.”

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.”

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up.

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had.

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened.

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”

“None of those sound like questions,” you say.

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“You don’t know,” he repeats.

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I stay out of his business.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it?”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.”

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?”

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“You didn’t tell him—”

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?”

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse.

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.”

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.”

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.”

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply.

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly.

“And you’re wrong, by the way.”

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken.

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.”

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you.

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.”

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.”

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. You know he already knows it, but it still seems to have some effect on him. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.”

“…I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least.

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.”

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.”

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.”

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.”

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You know th—”

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.”

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.”

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file.

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking.

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.”

“The profile—”

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.”

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly.

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this.

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right.

You have to be right.

The room feels even colder.

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do.

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him.

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room.

“She does not like you.”

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie.

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.”

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands.

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor.

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.”

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.”

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him.

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him.

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things.

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.”

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again.

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.”

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.”

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.”

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation.

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.”

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego.

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.”

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside.

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch…

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore.

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you.

“They sent a new one in,” you say.

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual.

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation.

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time.

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks.

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks.

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says.

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet.

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong.

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier.

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once.

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron.

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s chest as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard.

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you.

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round.

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed.

Aaron says your name, and you hum.

“Are you listening?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?”

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly.

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully.

Your eyes open and you frown.

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate.

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.”

“…Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.”

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?”

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron.

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction.

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up.

“Go for it,” you finally say.

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?”

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.”

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you.

“Thank you,” he says.

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.”

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything.

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand.

Sometimes you need reminders.

“I love you too.”

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.”

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs.

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third.

No one expected this to happen so soon.

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt.

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work.

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation.

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved.

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it.

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press.

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.”

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.”

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.”

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on.

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.”

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight.

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city.

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information.

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.”

“What are they?” Hotch asks.

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says.

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks.

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.”

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.”

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.”

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests.

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.”

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?”

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.”

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully.

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.”

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.

“And?” Hotch asks.

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.”

Hotch frowns. You?

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.”

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again.

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.”

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.”

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up.

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.”

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.”

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.”

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died a year ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail nine months ago after a six year stint.”

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.”

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.”

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.”

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.”

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.”

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says.

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods.

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him.

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says.

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks.

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.”

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him.

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?”

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.”

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?”

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—”

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.”

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.”

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up.

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him.

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze.

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind.

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”

And he does.

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear.

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale.

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame.

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner.

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff.

Of course you have to deal with this now.

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down.

“You’re already packed.”

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning.

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask.

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks.

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?”

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.”

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit.

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him.

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?”

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.

You take the box from him and smile thinly.

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open.

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.”

“They haven’t been back, have they?”

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail.

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests.

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.”

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops.

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff.

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.”

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit.

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” he says.

“That’s it,” you muse.

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up.

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.”

“…Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.”

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?”

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to.

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.”

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.”

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.”

“What have they said about me?” he asks.

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…”

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.”

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.”

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.”

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.”

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home.

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up.

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before.

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard.

Then, there’s nothing.

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is.

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at.

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims.

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters.

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that.

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him.

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that.

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?”

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.”

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.”

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching.

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up.

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night.

And now…

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not.

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?”

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it.

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.”

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly.

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him.

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words.

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why.

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes.

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs.

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze.

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.”

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.”

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body.

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life.

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.”

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.”

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?”

“…You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.”

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.”

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.”

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say.

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.”

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises.

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother was dead, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided.

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?”

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!”

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.”

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.”

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to.

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly.

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget.

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out.

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw your way back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here.

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now.

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.”

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.�� Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.”

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.”

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says.

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats.

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.”

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.”

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?”

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.”

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you.

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns.

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think.

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.”

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave.

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.”

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.”

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?”

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.”

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.”

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.”

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.”

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.”

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you.

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.”

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you.

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it.

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you.

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force.

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead.

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake.

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms.

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment.

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers.

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron.

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!”

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours.

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete.

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.”

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name.

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die.

You wake up in the hospital alone.

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you.

The real surprise is that you wake up at all.

Lucas is dead.

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded.

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real.

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life.

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day.

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all.

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life.

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind.

He was going to kill you.

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU.

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner.

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him.

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you.

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.”

“And how long have I been here?”

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.”

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask.

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…”

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.”

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?”

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start.

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.”

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.”

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!”

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—”

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same.

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper.

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life.

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues.

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number.

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.”

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner.

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.”

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together.

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.”

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.”

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit.

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.”

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.”

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out.

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume.

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.”

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down.

“Okay.”

And he stays.

This time, he stays.

#i was truly possessed while writing this i can't understand it #i wrote 15k words in 5 days #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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yan-lorkai · 2 months

Note

Since I absolutely adored your fic on escaping Idia, could you by chance do something with a reader that broke up with him only to find out she was pregnant later? Honestly, I just want the drama of the reader raising this child alone and Idia finding out down that his ex had a kid.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I took this request and ran with it, I hope you like the drama! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, mention of stalking and controlling tendencies, threats, poison mention, afab!reader but no pronouns used.

"You robbed me from being her father." Idia didn't sound angry. But there was a bitter taste that lingered on his tongue when he looked at you, the love of his life from when he was just a teenager and your child, sleepy on his arms, same blue hair shining under the dim lights. "I may not like it, but I understand why you did it. I'm so sorry that you didn't feel like you could tell me though."

In any other world, you could feel yourself melting at the scene that was so domestic, so sweet. But right now, when you are coming home, tired and hungry and seeing Idia sitting on your favorite armchair while he held your daughter so dearly and carefully in his arms? A shaky gasp left you, your heart starting to beat loudly in your chest as you watched each and every moviment he made, conscious of every chuckle, of his chest raised, of his eyes that lost their soft gaze and we're hardened now.

You still remember how he used to treat you when both of you were younger, he was like a spider weaving his web full of possessiveness, his words twisted to make you feel like he was the only one who could understand, love and treat you like you deserved.

You were dumb and innocent but dumb and innocent people don't survive for long out there. And when you realized that something was wrong, you had to do what you had to do in order to survive and escape him.

For seven long years you survived. But you felt as if a threat of death was looming over you for as long as you were stared by your ex-boyfriend - he didn't reacted well when you broke up with him. Like always, Idia threw a tantrum, begged and cried and screamed for you to stay, holding onto your legs pathetically. Though now he was older and got a more mature beauty to him, his eyes, so yellow, they were like diamonds watching you.

Your eyes followed the way his fingers moved and toyed with your daughter's hair, a tiny smile on her little lips as she got even comfier in his arms.

This was what you used to imagine when you lay in bed awake, thinking about the what ifs. What if you stayed? What if Idia was just a normal, good and plain guy that didn't scared you? Would he love his child? He did thought he was cursed, fated forever to always watch over the underworld gates, he told you himself. There were so many uncertainties, so much toxicity that you just ran away from your problems and him.

And now your past returned to bite you back.

"You should have told me. We could have done this together." Even he sounds unsure at that, a bit contemplative and thoughtful as he ponders what could have been of his life if he knew earlier about your pregnancy.

Toothy grin growing on his lips as he noticed your disgusted stare, so happy he could still make you feel something - anything was better than your hate, after all. The tick tock was the only sound echoing for a long moment before the growing anger bubbles up on your chest, not believing a single syllable that left his mouth.

"You got to be kidding!" You count on your fingers the number of creepy things he did, feeling your whole body shaking. Either from anger or fear, you can't tell. But it surely amuses Idia, who's smiling wider now. "Stalking me, watching me through the cameras, threatening my friends, you even tapped my phone and used to read my messages like they were a magazine, Idia! A kid wouldn't grown up to be healthy and normal around a freak like you."

You pointed in his direction, your finger jabbing at his face.

The illusion of a family had to end before it even begin. It was his fault that everything turned out to be this way and even with seven whole years passing by, Idia still wasn't able to see this. He was helpless, beyond help.

"That's a funny way to see things, Yuu-shi." He giggled softly, making you wince, the sound so unfamiliar now, while he rearranged the covers to wrap around your child tightly, not wanting her to wake up. Not right now, at least. "From the way I see, you hid my child existence from me. And honestly, I bet it was so hard and tiring, wasn't it? You worked two jobs to raise her, after all."

Your child let out a sleepy giggle, mumbling something on her sleep about her mom and dad finally being reunited. Idia looked back at you, smugness irradiating from him in waves.

"The nerve you got, I can't!" In an instant you were before him. Your whole body fighting to suppress fear and disgust, fighting against whatever was trying paralyze you. You had to take your daughter. You had to take her from him. You had to protect her.

He hummed a little, taking your hand on his. His grip was gentle, reverent even but strong enough to let you know he could overpower you whenever he wanted. He was looking at you through his eyelashes.

And you didn't like how he was looking at you. Like you were a collectible that he wanted to bury on his closet, to hide to never be seen again. Like he knew something you don't.

Exactly how he used to look at you in the past.

"You don't deserve to hold her, you don't even deserve to be near her." You told him petulantly. She was nothing like him. She was kinder and radiant, a good girl. She wasn't a calculating monster like her father.

You took her in your arms and he let you do it, crossing one leg over the other as he threw his head back and laughed.

"You tell me that she wouldn't like me but did you know that she was happy to know who I was? Did you know that she confided in me that you were working so hard that she missed you greatly but didn't want to annoy you?" You rolled your eyes at his attempt at lying, unable to believe anything he said.

There were no signs nor change on your daughter's behavior that indicates that any of this was true. At least, that you think so. You knew her better than he did.

You glanced at him, his eyes still smug but there was a pleading glimmer inside them that almost begged you to believe him this time. Raising a child was difficult, even more when you were raising one alone and had to be there for them 24/07, available emotionally and physically for whatever your daughter needed.

Looking at her soft, round face, you felt a pang of guilty. Idia was telling the truth or he was just messing with your head again?

He's lying, you screamed in your head. Of course he is lying. Lying is far easier than admitting that he was downright toxic.

The memories of his lies and half-truths were still fresh in your mind even after all those years, making it difficult to discern the reality now. You had trouble trusting people even to these days because of him. But his words struck a chord inside of you.

What if it was true? Your little one was a little more skittish and silent around you the past few days. You didn't want to believe this possibility. You couldn't. You worked hard to always be there in every moment, to not let her realize how it was to not have a parent around.

Had you failed?

"Why should I believe you now?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You did nothing but hurt me when we were together. I don't trust and I don't like how you are all cozy on my armchair, in fact, you are not welcomed here at all.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He obviously didn't want to talk about the past, it's not like he didn't know but in his twisted mind everything he had done to you was justified. Idia always do something with a purpose on mind.

"I know I've messed up before, more times than I can count. But this... this is different."

He gestured to your child, looking at her with a soft, fond gaze. You though didn't believed a second that he had a sudden change of heart just because of your child.

"It's true I didn't wanted a child because of my cursed blood and the fate that would await them. But when I hold her like this, nothing else seems to matter."

You scoffed at this, despising how sincere his voice was. "If you're telling the truth, why didn't she told me herself?"

"She was afraid, I guess. Afraid that you wouldn't understand or she didn't want to add to your stress. She thought she was doing the right thing." He exhaled slowly, the emotional turmoil inside him boiling over. Yet he forced himself to remain calm, to watch each and every step you make, every breathe you take.

Like a spider weaving its web.

His words hung in the air and you looked away, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions that surged within you. Trust had been broken before, boudaries ignored, there was no mending this. There was no salvaging the past, no matter how much he looked like a kicked puppy.

You held your daughter tighter. "Well, that was enlightening but I think you should go. Now."

Idia's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them as he stood up and lazily stretched. "You're still trying to push me away?" He asked, voice low and cold. "I won't stop you, of course, I get that you're still afraid and all but are you sure you want me to leave? I walked right into your house. Didn't you even wondered how I entered? Or where the nanny you hired went? Or why our daughter didn't woke up yet?"

Desperation crept into your voice, a sudden realisition that perhaps he would do something foolish such as harming his own flesh and blood. "Idia, what... What do you mean by all that?"

He tilted his head slightly. hiding the curve of a smile with his hand, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. You could only wonder what kind of things he was thinking and you didn't like it not knowing what to expect. You stared at him, heart beating loudly as held your daughter closer to your chest.

He laughed, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "You're scared," It wasn't a question but an observation. His smile got bigger. "Good, you should be. You think you have a choice in this? Your daughter… she's already been exposed to a little something I concocted. A slow-acting poison."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your daughter, now noticing that she was starting to tremble. "How could you do this?" You whispered, voice choked with emotion.

"Because I love you," Idia said, voice low and intense. Taking a step closer, he was staring you face to face now, warm breath over you. "And I won't let you go. Not now, not ever. We're meant to be together and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens."

Your heart pounded in your chest, panic and anger swirling within you. "Give her the antidote, Idia. Please; I'II do anything."

"Not yet," He shook his head slowly, a twisted smile on his lips. His tone was almost gentle and soothing. "You'll come with me first. Once we're safe and together, then she'll get the antidote. But if you try anything... if you try to leave or call for help, well..."

He let the threat hang in the air, the implications clear. Like a wreacking ball he destroyed everything you've worked for all these years. You hated it. And you hated how powerless you were right here, right now.

You felt a wave of despair wash over you, the weight of the situation crushing you. Your daughter's life hanging in the balance and there was no choice but to comply.

"Alright," Vou whispered, voice breaking. You looked at him with hatred and something more you couldn't name, too worried with your daughter's health. "I'll come with you. Just... please don't hurt her."

Idia's smile widened, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. "That's more like it," he said, reaching out to gently touch your daughter's cheek. "We'll be a perfect family, just like I always wanted."

With your heart heavy and your daughter's safety foremost in your mind, you followed Idia, knowing that you were stepping into a nightmare again.

But you could always escape... Right?

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misotsukiiyeooo · 2 months

Text

Birthday Boy!

Pairing:Husband! Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

A/N: In honor of Wonwoo turning 28!! (I'm very well aware his birthday was yesterday, KST but I live in EST sorry.)

Genre: Fluff + Smut

Word count: 13k

MINORS DNI 18+!!!!!

Sub! Dom! Wonwoo

WARNINGS: Cuffs, oral (M receiving) Unprotected sex (be safe guys/girls!) + ( let me know if there are more warnings I should be aware of!)

Synopsis: It's his birthday and you buy a bunch of gifts, however, the real surprise gift awaits.

July 17th, 2024, Wonwoo's finally 28!! you're very big on birthdays however, Wonwoo isn't, but today, you decided to plan a bit more than how you usually do. Wonwoo walks out of our bedroom and immediately gets bombarded with kisses from you. "Happy birthday my Wonu!!" Squeezing him tightly as he laughs thanking you. You take a photo of him and his cute bed hair as he sits down near the counter to eat the breakfast you made him." Doll..you didn't have to make so much food..thank you." " Of course, I had to, today's a special day!" You take one more photo of him before joining him. "You're going out with the boys first right?" You ask, taking a bite of the food, "Yes, I told you, you should come, they haven't seen you in a while and they miss you." He chuckles remembering Seungkwan and Jeonghan whining to see you. "Fine, I'll visit for a little bit, but I have to go to work later..." You fake being sad. "Really? I thought you had work tomorrow?" Uh oh..what do I say? "It was supposed to but they moved it to today 'cause they were low on workers." He only nods and takes a spoonful in his mouth.

After finishing our meal, we take a morning shower together and everything's so tender and romantic. Giggling at how some shampoo bubbles went on Wonwoo's nose. Others were to think you were in your third month of dating or even your honeymoon stage, but you and Wonwoo were together for 10 years, married for 6. Yes, it was pretty early, being only 22 but you both had known each other for way longer than that. I guess you can say I got lucky for bagging my middle school crush.

"Wonu stay still! Look here!...okay now give me cunt." You take hundreds of photos of him. "Doll, you can't say words like that outside..and I feel like paparazzi is following me with all these photos you are taking." You laugh walking behind him and then in front taking photos. He walks closer to you, one hand holding your waist while the other holds your wrist, "I think you took enough photos, don't you agree?" You simply nod. "Okay, now can we walk into the place now?" " Fine, I guess we could since I'm done taking photos..."Pouting as he pats your head, "Okay let's go in." While entering the restaurant/ club you immediately hear Seokmin yell, grabbing your attention. "WONWOO AND Y/N!! OVER HERE!!!" 'Didn't' even give you guys a chance to look around before him and Soonyoung ran to you' grabbing your arms and leading you both to the seats. All the members are cheering and wishing Wonwoo a happy birthday causing him to smile shyly and thank all of them. "Y/N, I can't believe Wonwoo lied to us. He said you wouldn't come." Seungkwan says earning a nod from Mingyu. " Well...I had to come and visit my favorite boys, however, I can't stay for long because I have work in a bit." "You have to work at 5pm?" Jeonghan questions in shock. "Yes, I need to cover for someone." You wink at Seungkwan and he gets it immediately. Wonwoo looks over at you, "Your favorite boys?" He raises an eyebrow. Mingyu throws his arm over him, "Yes, we're her favorite boys." Everyone laughs," Wonwoo, it's okay, you are her husband remember? we can't even steal her from you even if we tried." Chan adds reassuring him. "That's enough boys, it's his birthday, enough with the teasing." Everyone quieted down a bit once Seungcheol talked. "Babe, you know you're my favorite man so who cares if they're my favorite boys? you're ten times better." You whisper in his ear as his cheeks turn a light pink. "Well, alright then." He shakes the thoughts off and just focuses on enjoying his birthday. "Okay guys, I have to get going now. Have fun, don't misbehave, and make sure to not get too drunk. Especially you, Soonyoung." You point your finger at him causing him to giggle. " Yes ma'am." He salutes to you making you laugh. "And you, text me when you're arriving home. I might come home a little later but still." You kiss Wonwoos cheek and wave the others goodbye before leaving the place.

Finally home, now you need to quickly start decorating. Wonwoo might be home around 9 which gives you more than enough time to get things ready. "Are you Jeon Y/N?" " Yes, I am." "Okay just sign here and you are good to go." The nice lady gives me a pen for me to sign. "Alright, thank you, have a wonderful day!" Smiling at the lady returning the same words. Got the cake, check, now onto the 'toys'. As you enter the store a man greets you. "Hello Miss, what could I get you today?" You're honestly not even sure why you're in this place, you guess you just want to try something new. "Well, I'm not sure what exactly I want, however, it's my husband's birthday and I wanted to get something for him, us to have some fun." Trying to calm yourself from all this blushing. "Hmm...I see well I think I have something in mind, follow me." As you follow him, you make a mental note to most definitely come here again. "I think they'll probably like these, no?" He shows you pink fluffed cuffs that look so pretty, "Hm, do you have these in purple? I want these to match the party decorations." "I'll check in the back and see if there's more." He walks away to check while you look around. You don't know if Wonwoo would enjoy most of these things but it's worth a shot to try, one day that is. Going to the register now, he has the purple cuffs you want. "Turns out these were the last ones." You smile happily as he puts them in a pretty box. "Thank you a lot for your help, I'll be sure to come back." "You're welcome and thank you for shopping here." He smiles as you exit. Got a toy, check, back home it is. It's currently 7:56pm and you just finished everything, decorating, gift wrapping and even putting on the secret surprise.

Today at 8:03PM

Glasses 🕶🩶

I'm heading home now Doll, almost everyone's drunk so I had to stay sober and drop them off at their homes.

You lock your phone, "Just in time." You thought.

I unlock the front door and walk into a dark house, 'I guess Y/N's not here yet'. Or so I thought. As soon as I turned on the lights, to my surprise Y/N was there popping confetti at me. "SURPRISE!!!" I smile as she runs to hug me. "What's all this? how did you do this so fast." I kiss her forehead, "I never had work today, I just needed time to get things ready here.” I look at her and then look around. “You’re so sneaky, you know that?” Kissing her now on her lips as she giggles. “I know.” She walks to the living room, now giving me a chance to look at her completely. The tight light purple dress she’s wearing to match the theme hugs her silhouette complimenting her curves just right. Staring at her up and down for too long caught her attention. “Are you going to come over here?” She takes me out of my thoughts. Walking up to her and seeing a cat-shaped cake with glasses makes me smile as she adds candles. I sit down on the couch as she’s across from me lighting up the candles on the coffee table giving me full access to looking at her breast. She sings happy birthday to me but I can’t help but just stare at her in the dress, her hair is nicely curled and pretty glittery eyeshadow is what’s making me want to fuck her right here on the couch. “Okay, time for me to give you the things I bought!!” She jumps up and piles the gifts all on the coffee table. “Doll..you didn’t need to buy so much..” “I probably didn’t need to but you know me, I can't let an opportunity to spoil you like this pass.” She smiles at me as I look at her tenderly. After opening the gifts and receiving an expensive keyboard I’ve always wanted, a new game, a brand new headset, and, a new PC I can’t help but hug her tightly for spoiling me so much. “I got you a new P.C. because I know how your old one is practically broken with the number of times you rage quit in games and abuse it.” She laughs loudly as I remember all the times I broke my gaming sets.

After a while of eating cake and talking Y/N looks at me. “You know...I do have one more surprise..." She smiles, I watch her come back from the room with a black box with a white ribbon on it. Taking it into my hands and slowly pulling the ribbon while looking at her, "Hopefully this isn't some little trick of hers." I think to myself finally taking off the string revealing a pair of fluffy cuffs. I look back at her holding the cuffs up, "What's this for?" Seeing her smirk means this is one of her crazy thoughts again. "It's for you, I want to make sure you have the best birthday ever without even having to do anything." Looking at her body once again up and down. "So what do you want me to do?"My eyes, now hooded, were full of lust. "All you have to do is lay on the bed, I'll do the rest." She walks away to the bedroom as I'm steps behind her.

Sitting on the bed, she takes off my shirt. Smirking as I see her practically drool over my abs she immeadly goes back into dom mode. Laying on the bed, she straddles on top of me. "Put your arms up." Listening to her, liking this sexy side of her I obey, raising my arms to the bedframe while she puts the cuff on, stinging a bit as they're pretty tight."Are they okay?" Her character breaks as she's concerned. I nod, relieving her, She slowly strips while my eyes are glued to her body. Under that tight dress reveals a sexy lingerie which almost immediately gets me a bit too excited. "You like that huh?" She noticed the way I looked at her. Feeling his hard member through his pants gets you excited. You start to rub yourself against it earning a groan from him. You continue doing it until you hear a whine from him, "Doll...stop teasing." ‘Is he trying to dominate me?’ You thought."I think you're forgetting who's the one in cuffs," You smirk, enjoying your time while it lasts.

You finally take off his pants and his boxers slowly hearing a hiss from him. He groans softly as you grab it with one hand, licking the slit and tasting the pre-cum makes him shake. "Y/N, cut it out." Looking at his whiney face drives you crazy, so you decide to give him what he wants. Slowly taking his length into your mouth, he watches you. Moving your head up and down slowly moaning sending vibrations on his cock makes him grunt. "Y/N..." "Yes, baby?" You look up at him while still keeping his length in. "Don't do this..." With that, you move my head faster. Nothing but the sound of soft moans and grunts fills the room. He’s close, judging by the way he attempts to thrust into your mouth, and his cock twitches. Your eyes are teary due to his cock. “Baby, fuck! I’m gonna-.” Before he even gets to finish his sentence, his warm liquid shoots into your mouth with some leaking out the corner of your mouth. You swallow everything completely. Kissing his chest and leaving some marks. After a few seconds for him to catch his breath, you take off the cuffs and he rubs his wrist. “Are you sure they didn’t hurt?” You ask worriedly. He doesn’t even answer and turns over, pinning you down. “You had your fun?” His eyes darken, ‘I really shouldn’t have teased him for so long..’ you thought. “Now it’s time for me to have mine.”

Ripping off the lingerie that you just bought, he kisses you hungrily, caressing your breast earning a moan from you. From kissing your neck to your breast, everything’s so hazy. “My pretty little doll face was teasing me too much.” His hand slides down to your wet clit. Rubbing it with speed causes your stomach to tighten, your close. Moaning ever so loudly, he stopped as soon as you were about to climax. “Wonu..” You whine. “You don’t like it huh pretty? I want to hear your pretty moans beg for me.” He brings his fingers back down to your entrance and fingers you slowly. “Wonu, please.” You beg, “Please what? I don’t know unless you tell me.” He continues to go slowly. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow.” He smirks and pumps his cock a few times, hardening it. He rubs his tip against your entrance making you moan loudly. He captures your next moan in his mouth, kissing you and distracting you as his long length enters you. Filling you up completely, his slow thrust gets faster. “Fuck, doll how are you still so damn tight?” He grunts going faster. After some time his thrusts start to get more slopier. Kissing your breast as you scratch his back, digging your nails into it. "Wonwoo, I'm so close." tears escape your eyes as he wipes them with his thumb. "I am too, Doll." "Your cock is so big, filling me up completely..." He smirks releasing. "You really know how to get a man's ego up." He chuckles as he rides out his high. Soon after you release, as he continues to slow the pastedown. "I love you." He kissed your lips. "I love you too, Wonu."

He carries you, bridal style to the warm bath. Sitting down on his lap as he washes you. After, you’re sitting on the bathroom counter he applies your skincare while you do his. Carrying you back to your bedroom, snuggle closely to each other. "Today was the best birthday so far, thank you." he lets out eyes sparkling. You peck lips, "No need to thank me, I simply rewarded you for what you rightfully earned." You chuckle hearing yourself. "You're so adorable." Your cheeks tint pink. "Thank you..." You mumble. "Let's go to sleep okay?" You say too embarrassed to continue the conversation. "Okay, Doll face, let's go to bed."

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krirebr · 8 months

Text

More Than This 3

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~5.8k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, multiple references to vomit (but nothing graphic, I don't think), attempted sex that makes everyone sad - dubcon on both sides, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright friends, here we go! Now we're really in it.

A gigantic thank you, as always, to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and talking it all through with me, especially the last section, which I've been anxious about since I originally conceived of it ages ago. You're the best, Chelsea!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You heard Ransom get up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into the bathroom to retch. You were glad he didn’t choke on his vomit, you guessed. You were still on the couch with the TV turned down low. You wondered if he’d come out and see what you were doing, but he just stumbled back to the bed when he was done.

You didn’t hear him again for several more hours. In that time, you mostly watched TV, dozed a little, fucked around on your phone. Time passed slowly, but it still passed. Soon, the sun was coming up. You were moving across the country today. Your new life was starting whether you wanted it or not.

A few hours later you heard the beginnings of movement in the bedroom. You called down to room service and ordered two carafes of coffee, along with a few different breakfast options, ranging from light to extremely greasy. You didn’t know what his hangovers were like, what they required. But you knew that an especially moody Ransom wouldn’t do you any good. So, a peace offering of a sort.

The food arrived before he’d shown his face. As you looked at the cart, you thought that while you were trying to start things as well as you could for your own good, it didn’t erase everything he’d done the day before, how he’d treated you. So you made no effort to be quiet as you laid out the food and got the coffee ready. You may have banged the metal covers together as noisily as you could.

“What the fuck?” Ransom grumbled as he came stumbling out of the bedroom in just his boxer briefs. “Why is there noise?”

“Coffee,” you said, handing him the mug you’d filled. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

He took a sip and just grunted at you and then turned around and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You busied yourself by getting your own coffee and munching on some toast. You still had no appetite but figured you should probably eat something.

A few minutes later, he came back out with a now empty mug. He stopped and stared at you. “Am I still drunk or are you still wearing your wedding dress?”

You tried not to let your embarrassment show. “I couldn’t get it off by myself, so…” you trailed off and shrugged.

He looked at you for another moment then nodded once. “Give me a minute,” he said, as he poured himself another cup. He drank it quickly, then briefly held his head in his hands. When he looked back up, he took a deep breath, then mumbled “OK.” He came up behind you and lightly touched your dress. “Is there a trick to it?” he asked as he ran a finger down the seam.

“It’s a long line of hook-and-eyes, you know?”

He hummed and then started at the top. As he worked, he grumbled to himself, which made you feel a little better about not being able to get it off. You’d never stop being surprised by how gentle his hands were. It seemed to be in complete opposition to every other part of him. When he was about halfway down, his knuckles lightly grazed the bare skin of your back and a shudder ran through your whole body. “Sorry,” he said, softly. You just shook your head and didn’t say anything.

When he was done, he quickly took a step back. You held your dress to you, trying to preserve your modesty, even though you knew how silly that was. You just weren’t ready for him to see you, although you doubted that that mattered. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded again, then “You mind if I take the first shower?”

You shook your head and he disappeared into the ensuite.

About an hour and a half later, you sat with him in the back of a town car, on your way to the private airfield where one of his family’s planes awaited you. Neither of you said anything. Ransom was staring at something on his phone, while you put all your energy into trying not to have a panic attack. You had no idea what was waiting for you in Boston. You weren’t ready for this. You couldn’t do it.

As the car pulled up to the hangar, you were beyond relieved to see Steve already waiting there, Lola’s travel crate at his feet. The moment the car was parked and turned off, you lept out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you. You bent down in front of Lola’s crate first and carefully stuck your fingers through the door. “Hi, baby, I missed you.” She kissed your fingers and then whined to be let out. “Not yet, honey,” you said softly. “You have to wait til we’re on the plane.”

You stood up and faced Steve, who was looking you over carefully. “How are you doing?” he asked seriously.

You shrugged and sighed. “Freaking out a little, I guess, but it’ll be fine.”

“And if it isn’t, you’ll call me,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care where you are or what time it is, you call me. Ok?” You nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but then the call of your name came from over your shoulder.

You turned to see Ransom standing between you and the jet. Your heart dropped. No, not yet. You needed more time. You needed to be able to actually say goodbye. You couldn’t– “I’ll be on the plane,” he said, voice still scratchy and tired, sunglasses firmly on, despite the overcast day. “Take your time.” He turned around and began walking up the stairs.

You just stared after him for a moment, surprised. When you turned back to Steve, his lips were curled in disgust. But then the expression quickly changed to something much sadder. “I should have done more,” he said, “gotten you out of here, sent you away or something. I can’t–”

“Steve.” you interrupted. “Please stop. It’s no use now.” You couldn’t listen to any more of this. It had always been inevitable; it’d always been what you were for. Imagining anything else was useless.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then he looked around and asked, “Are Dad and Lydia on their way?”

You tried to keep any hurt out of your expression when you said, “No, something important came up for Joseph and you know Mom has a hard time going anywhere by herself.” You ignored the cracks you heard in your own voice.

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion and upset. “I would have picked her up,” he said. “Hell, I’ll go get her right now.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “I told her that, but you know how she is.” You dropped your eyes, not able to look at the anger you knew you’d see on Steve’s face. You were angry too, you were, but mostly now you were just sad. And after thinking about it all night, you honestly weren’t sure how much anger she deserved. She’d been broken for a long time. It’d happened before you’d even known her, probably. It’d been unfair, maybe, to expect her to be strong for you now when she’d never been able to be that before.

Steve said your name and you looked up at him. “You don’t deserve this,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really need you to understand it. None of this is what you deserve.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded and muttered, “OK.”

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled you into his arms. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much,” he said into your hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without having you just a few minutes away to annoy whenever I want.”

You huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too,” you said. “So much. Even when you’re being so annoying.” The tears were starting now, you weren’t able to hold them back. You pulled back and briefly got a good enough look at Steve’s face to see that his eyes were wet, too, before he knelt in front of Lola’s crate.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m going to miss you too. You take good care of your mom for me.”

You couldn’t help the little sob that came out of you at that. Fuck. Steve had been stuck to your side since you were six years old. Through absolutely everything. He’d been the one person you could count on for as long as you could remember. And now you were being dragged away from him.

He stood up and pulled you into another hug. “You’re so strong,” he whispered right in your ear. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When he pulled back, you knew it was time to go, but you didn’t know how to pull yourself away. This all felt so final.

“Let me know when you land,” he said. “And when you get to the house. And just–” he sighed. “Everything. I want to know everything, ok?”

You nodded and tried to brush the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, ok,” you said, knowing you’d send him the exact amount of information that would keep him from worrying too much. You picked up the dog crate. You locked eyes with him one last time. “I love you.”

His voice was thick when he responded, “I love you too. I’m going to sit right here until you’ve taken off, ok? I’ll be right here.”

“You’re a good brother,” you said, as you slowly took your first step backward, toward the jet.

“Yes. I am,” he said with a smile that was half cocky and half absolutely heartbreaking.

With one last deep breath and an “OK,” that was mostly to yourself, you forced yourself to turn around and make your way to the stairs up to the jet. Once you were halfway up, you looked over your shoulder. Steve was leaning against his car. He gave you an encouraging smile and a small wave. You nodded and took the last few steps to board the plane.

A flight attendant was standing right there to greet you. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Drysdale,” she said and you couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped open in shock. Mrs. Drysdale. That’s who you were now. You tried to pull yourself together and let her show you into the main cabin. It was mostly open, with a few plush seats and tables scattered around. Ransom was already in one, fully reclined with a sleep mask pulled over his eyes. He made no indication that he was awake, so you asked the attendant for a mask for yourself and a glass of water. As she went to fulfill your request, you opened Lola’s little cage and picked her up when she came out. She was nervous, shaking with her little tail tucked between her legs. “It’ll be ok,” you said softly, the tears threatening to stream down again. You took a deep breath and settled the both of you into a seat as far from Ransom as you could get in the small private jet. You gave Lola gentle pets until she sat down on your lap. “We’ll just take a nap,” you said, “and it’ll be over before we know it.”

“What the fuck is that?”

You woke with a start and pulled off your sleep mask. “Huh?” You sat up to see Ransom and Lola locked in a staredown.

“What is that?”

“I told you that I had a dog,” you said, confused.

“That!” Ransom yelled, pointing at Lola, “is not a dog. That’s a long-haired rat!”

“Hey!” you yelled back, just as Lola started retching. “Oh, baby, no!” You knelt down next to her just as she puked right at Ransom’s feet.

“What the shit?!” he cried out, jumping back.

“She’s stressed, ok? It’s not like I can explain to her what a plane is or where we’re going!” You grabbed what was left of your water and the napkin the flight attendant had brought with the glass and tried to clean it up. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What are you doing?” He stood over you with his hands on his hips.

“I’m cleaning it up so you don’t freak out, ok? It’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that. The crew probably has a steam cleaner or something. My dad uses this plane. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He walked to the front of the cabin and knocked on the divider. When the attendant came, Ransom quietly told her, “The dog got sick. I assume you have something to clean it up.”

She nodded and quickly came out with a portable steam cleaner and made quick work of Lola’s mess.

“Thank you,” you told her.

“No problem at all, Mrs. Drysdale,” she smiled and went back to the galley.

“Well, that’s a real mindfuck,” Ransom said as he flopped back into his seat. He glared down at Lola, “She gonna do that again?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently picking her up and holding her close to try to comfort her.

He pulled his sleep mask down over his eyes. “Great, love being a rat-dog owner.”

“She isn’t your dog,” you said curtly.

“Whatever. This hangover is still pounding against my skull. Wake me when we land.”

When you landed in Boston, Ransom led you to where his vintage beamer was parked and you both squeezed into it. The slightly hysterical thought struck you that it wouldn’t be suitable at all once there was a baby to cart around. You pushed that thought away. No use getting ahead of yourself.

Ransom’s house was on the edge of the city, surrounded by more trees than you expected. From the outside, it was mostly glass. Very modern. It felt cold.

He parked the car and grabbed the few bags you both had with you. The rest of your things would be delivered the next day. He showed you inside without much pomp or circumstance, just walked in ahead of you, and left the door open.

The majority of the first floor seemed to be one large, open-plan room. It was sparsely decorated and the pieces that were there seemed to be lifted wholesale from the pages of an upscale furniture catalog. There was nothing of Ransom in this house. Not that you really knew him well enough to say, but you didn’t think there was any information to be gleaned from his living space either. It all felt very empty. It was not what you had expected.

You set Lola down on the hardwood floor and she immediately ran off to explore. You crossed your fingers that she wouldn’t get into anything, not able to forget Ransom’s threat that he’d make you get rid of her if she messed anything up. You glanced over at Ransom to gauge if he was upset that you’d let her roam on her own, but he wasn’t paying any attention, leafing through a pile of mail left on the kitchen island.

He must have felt you watching him, because without looking up he said, “Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll bring our things up later.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed your bag, not wanting to wait for him, and made your way up the staircase in the middle of the living room. Judging by how he’d treated you so far, you figured he planned to tuck you away in some guest room, out of his way except for when he needed you. It wasn’t unheard of in marriages like this, and you would honestly be grateful to have your own space. But as you looked through the rooms upstairs, you found a home gym, a study, and 2 storage rooms. There’d also been a bathroom and a few closets. The only room left had to be his, but you couldn’t imagine he’d want to share that with you. You very gingerly walked in and set your bag at the foot of the bed. You didn’t spend any more time there, afraid that you might be wrong.

When you went back downstairs, he was now rummaging through his fridge. “I put my bag in the bedroom upstairs,” you said to his back.

He just grunted his assent, then came out with two glass containers in his hands. He plated them both and put one in the microwave. “I have a housekeeper that comes three times a week and usually prepares meals for the whole week. You can give her any food preferences you have.”

You nodded. “I enjoy cooking,” you said, your mother's advice to ‘keep him happy’ floating in your mind. “I can make dinner too, sometimes.”

He nodded and shrugged as he took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of you on the island. You took a seat on one of the stools. “If you want,” he said, “but I don’t expect it.” He put his own plate in the microwave.

“Do you have any other staff?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not for the house, not right now.”

You understood the implication that the staff would grow as your family did. A nanny, a driver, a gardener maybe, if you moved to a house that required one.

It was the lack of a driver that made you nervous. You’d never gone without one at home. You also hadn’t seen a large garage on the property, so you guessed there weren’t any extra cars around. You felt stuck in this house already, shut in like he didn’t want you to leave.

When his food was heated, he sat beside you and you ate together in silence. The food was fine, you were sure, but you couldn’t taste it. Your mind was ahead of you, wondering what the rest of the night held.

When you were done, Ransom loaded your dishes into the dishwasher and then said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, so I’m just going straight to bed. Feel free to stay up if you want. I’m a heavy sleeper so you won’t wake me when you come in.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. So he did intend for you to share his room. But apparently, just for sleeping. You were relieved. You were. The little voice in your head that wouldn’t stop whispering that he didn’t want you didn’t count. “I’m still three hours behind, so I might stay up a little longer.” Doing what, you had no idea. You didn’t have any of your things and you weren’t sure what was off-limits here yet. And you were exhausted, still hadn’t recovered from not sleeping the night before. But you just couldn’t deal with the awkwardness of going to bed at the same time as him.

“OK,” he said and then just stood there, looking surprisingly lost. After a couple of endless minutes, he just said, “Goodnight,” and finally went upstairs.

You grabbed your phone out of your handbag, unsurprised to see multiple messages from Steve, checking in on you. You sent him one back, assuring him that the flight had been fine, the drive to the house was fine, you were fine. You collected Lola from where she was curled up on a rug, quickly fed her and let her out, and then brought her and her crate upstairs. After a few minutes of internal debate, you decided to set her up in the gym, fairly certain that even in her crate, Ransom wouldn’t want her in his bedroom. It took a lot of coaxing to get her in. She was so used to sharing your bed. She whined when you closed the little grate and your heart broke. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll be ok.”

You quietly went into the bedroom and Ransom was, indeed, already asleep, spread out on his stomach again, but luckily this time only taking up one side of the bed. He’d left the lamp on the opposite side on for you. You took your sleep clothes out of your bag and brought your toiletries into the ensuite, unpacking only what you’d need for the night. His things were all piled around one of the side-by-side sinks, but the other was clear for you. You went through your nightly routine quickly and then went back into the bedroom and very carefully climbed into bed. He didn’t stir. You turned off the lamp and settled at the edge of the bed. Your exhaustion took you quickly.

When you woke in the morning, Ransom was gone.

Your things were delivered a few hours after you woke. You started by trying to organize the boxes into the least obtrusive pile possible. You hoped that if they were tucked into a corner, he wouldn’t be too annoyed while you took your time going through them. You started with a few of the smaller boxes, unpacking the items into places you hoped they could go.

You took Lola for a walk around the neighborhood. It was sparsely populated, the houses spaced far apart. You didn’t run into any neighbors.

One of the walk-in closets in the bedroom had been cleared out for you, so you spent the afternoon unpacking all your clothes. By the time you were done, it was time for dinner. There was still no sign of Ransom.

You fed Lola and helped yourself to one of the meals in the fridge. You ate alone and after you cleaned up, you dug a book out of one of your boxes and settled on one of the not-very-comfortable couches with Lola to read. You didn’t know if she was allowed on the furniture – you were sure she wasn’t, actually – but Ransom wasn’t here to see it, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

As you were finishing the second chapter in your book, he walked through the front door. With how the house was set up, he had a clear view of you and Lola from the door. “Hi,” was all he said.

“Hi,” was all you could say back.

He just stood there for a moment and then took off his coat and shoes. “How was your day?” he asked, stiffly, as he came into the living room.

“Fine,” you said. Then you realized he was actually attempting conversation and added, “My things came, so I got started unpacking.”

He nodded, “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“I did,” you said, hoping that was the right answer. “Can I get you some food?”

“No, I’m fine. I ate at the office.” Well, that answered where he’d been all day – his family’s publishing house.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs to unwind. Will you be heading up soon?”

Oh. Right. It’d finally come. “Yeah,” you said, your mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll just get Lola settled and then join you.”

He looked down at your dog in your lap like he was noticing her for the first time. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked upstairs.

You let Lola out the back door for just a couple minutes, then took her upstairs. It was even harder to get her into her crate this time, even after you buried treats in her blankets. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cooed, once you finally had her locked in. “I promise it won’t always be this hard and scary. It’ll be ok.”

Ransom was waiting for you in his room, sitting in an armchair by the window. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Ok.” You perched on the edge of the bed and did your best to look him in the eye, even as your heart was racing.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “We don’t–” he started, then another breath. “There’s nothing that we have to do tonight. I mean, we can certainly get the first time out of the way, if that’s what you want to do. But it doesn’t have to be now. We have time.”

You wanted to be relieved, but it just felt like delaying the inevitable. “We don’t, actually,” you said shaking your head. “We don’t have that much time. Especially if it takes a while. If there’s going to be an issue getting pregnant, on either side, I think the sooner we know the better. I don’t want to be blindsided by it when we only have a month left.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “That makes sense. Yeah, we can get it over with.”

You were proud of yourself for the way you didn’t wince at his phrasing, but it was a near thing. But was it really fair to be upset or hurt by that when it was how you were feeling too? You wanted to stop delaying it. You were ready to just know how it was going to be, what he would want. So yeah, maybe ‘get it over with’ wasn’t such a bad way to put it.

He stood up and sighed, looking like he was bracing himself. “I do need to know, have you done this before?”

You swallowed. The question wasn’t unexpected but you weren’t sure how to answer it and didn’t know which answer he was looking for. You decided to be honest and hoped it would be ok. “Yes, I’ve had sex,” you said, quietly.

He let out a long exhale in relief. “Ok,” he said, “ok, that’s good.”

You stood up, unsure of what to do. You just wanted to be on the other side of it. You suddenly thought of what you’d just told Lola. It wouldn’t always be this hard and scary. You would get used to it. You just had to get through this first time. And then you’d know how he was. Resolved now, you started taking off your shirt.

“Wait,” he said, breathed really. “Just wait.”

Your shirt was already halfway off, stuck on your arms above your head, so you shucked it the rest of the way and threw it on the floor, but didn’t do anything else.

He came over and stood so he was in your space. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb on your cheekbone. And very slowly, he ducked his head to bring his lips to yours. There was something about it. The intimacy. Even with what you knew you were about to do with him. You just– A kiss was too much. You turned away. You couldn’t do it.

Instead, your hands went to unbutton your pants. You undid it slowly then bent over with your back to him to push them down your legs, sticking your ass out as much as you could. That was better than a kiss, right? You could make him want you.

You kicked your pants off and stood back up, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you. But his face was unreadable. You weren’t ready for him to touch you, so you said, “I can get myself ready for you,” hoping it came off coy, but you were afraid he’d be able to hear how your voice shook. For the briefest moment, you almost thought you saw something travel across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it was gone too fast for you to be able to tell, and you were trying so hard to look away, anyway.

You got on the bed, lying on your back, sliding your panties off as seductively as you could. You closed your eyes tight and slowly moved one hand down your abdomen while the other started to play with your breast, cupping it, tweaking your nipple. As your other hand slipped between your thighs, you brought up your go-to fantasy. Nothing fancy or outlandish. Just a man standing over you, touching you, telling you how much he loved you, how much he loved your body. How he was going to ruin you, completely take you apart. You tried to focus on that as your fingers slowly made their way between your folds, as they made their way to your clit. But this room kept pulling you back to reality. You could hear Ransom taking his clothes off. You tried to ignore it. You were starting to get wet, slowly but surely, so you carefully pushed one finger inside yourself, trying so hard to focus on the man, his voice. You heard a bottle of lube flick open. No, no, you weren’t here, as you added another finger. You could hear Ransom’s hand on his cock now as your thumb continued to rub your clit. You opened your eyes despite yourself. Ransom was kneeling on the edge of the bed, stroking himself to hardness. It was the first time you’d seen him fully naked. He really was so beautiful. You sort of hated him for it.

You closed your eyes again. You could do this. You scissored your fingers slowly, opening yourself up, a little whine escaping your lips, when suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You wanted to scream in frustration. It was no use. Your hands dropped down to your sides. You were ready enough. It wouldn’t hurt, it was fine. You blinked your eyes open again to find Ransom staring at your face, searching for something. You couldn’t begin to guess what. “I’m ready,” you said.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft, but gritty.

“Yeah, I’m good. How do you want me?”

He seemed almost startled by your question. “Uh, however you’re most comfortable.”

You nodded and flipped over onto your stomach, pulling your knees up toward your elbows and putting your ass in the air. This would be easiest if you didn’t have to look at him. If you could imagine someone else. Someone who loved you. Someone who wanted to be here.

You heard the bottle of lube again and then felt him settle between your legs. One hand was on your ass and you presumed he was using the other to line himself up. You pushed your face into the pillow underneath you. You tried to bring the fantasy back as he slowly eased inside of you. He was big, but not so big it hurt. You breathed through it as he worked his way in with short, slow thrusts. He was being so gentle with you. You weren’t sure if you liked it. The hand on your ass moved to your hip, while the other snaked around to your stomach, softly stroking you there, then moved down over your pelvis, and then finally between your thighs to search for your clit. He found it quickly. But no matter how hard you closed your eyes, his fingers made it impossible for you to pretend that it was anyone else with you, anyone else touching you. Without thinking, you pushed his hand away and replaced it with your own.

He was making little grunts and gasps behind you that you tried to ignore. You rubbed furious circles over your clit and tried to focus only on the fullness you felt. But then, that fullness started to lessen. The grunts behind you turned into a “Shit.” and then a “Fuck!” and suddenly, that fullness completely disappeared. You let out a little cry as he quickly pulled out of you. You turned around to catch a glimpse of his softening cock before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

You lay on your back for just a moment, your mind trying to catch up, figure out what on earth had just happened. That voice that had been there this whole time, since that first meeting a month ago, came back with smug satisfaction. He doesn’t want you, it said, over and over. Your thighs were sticky, probably mostly from the lube. You didn’t think your wetness or his precome had been enough to make a mess out of you. You got up, desperate to not be naked anymore. You grabbed a sleep shirt out of the closet you were using and slipped it on. You hugged yourself, standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do.

In the silence, with nothing else to focus on, you were suddenly aware of Lola crying across the hall. Fuck. Everything just kept getting worse.

Ransom came out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed. He stopped at the foot, seemingly surprised that you weren’t still in it. He looked up and found you on the other side of the room.

“Is everything ok?” you asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice sharp. You flinched and he sighed, then visibly tried to calm himself down. “It’s fine,” he said again, much softer this time. He held out a washcloth to you. “In case you need to clean yourself up.”

You took a few steps toward him so that you could grab it. “Thank you,” you said, as you quickly wiped between your legs, then went to finish cleaning up in the bathroom.

When you came back out, he was back in bed, on his back, just staring at the ceiling. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you hurried to answer. “It’s Lola, but she’s ok. She just isn’t used to sleeping alone. She’ll get used to it, eventually.” Your heart broke as you spoke, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided.

“Where does she usually sleep?” he asked.

It took you a minute to answer, you were so surprised by the question. “Uh, with me,” you said.

“Then go get her,” he said, without looking at you. He hadn’t looked at you since you’d come out of the bathroom.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah, if it stops her crying.”

You didn’t wait to be told again. You hurried across the hall and opened her crate, scooping her up into your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you cooed. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s going to be ok now.”

When you got back to the room, Ransom had turned off his light and turned over onto his side, facing the wall. You placed Lola on the bed and crawled in after her. As you turned off your own lamp, you whispered, “Thank you,” not sure if he was awake to hear it.

Tag list is open

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#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #knives out #reader insert #fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #steve rogers #steve rogers & reader #captian america #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this

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mj0702 · 2 months

Text

oh @helen-with-an-a... look what I got here... 😈😈

“Luce... I'm home” you yelled as you kicked the door shut and threw your keys into Onas self made ceramic bowl while you pulled your shoes off and flinged them down the hallway towards your room

“Oh look at that.... it's a Blitzen” you suddenly heard a voice you haven't heard in years

“STEPH!!” you exclaimed happily as you jumped in her arms

“No...” Lucy said quickly catching you mid air and putting you down in front of her friend

“You having a stroke again??” you looked at your sister confused why you weren't allowed to hug Steph

“Go wash your hands... better take a shower... I can smell... something... what were you doing the whole afternoon anyway?” Lucy scrunched her nose

“Mapí and I had to... exit Alexias... hold on us so we jumped over the fence... into a garbage container... but we're both okay...” you said quickly and your sister groaned loudly already pulling out her phone while Steph bursted out laughing

“I text capi... you shower... you table... wait... where's Ona??” Lucy directed and pushed her friend already back into the kitchen while nudging you away with her foot

“We lost her somewhere between Block D110 and C112...” you waved off already taking your shirt off

“Why me?? What have I done in an earlier life that I have to deal with all that?” your sister mumbled whining as she picked up a banana peel and some wrapping paper that fell out of your shirt

“You probably ran over a kid with your horse cart...” you yelled from the doorway of the bathroom but then squeaked as Lucy threw the banana peel after you

“10 Minutes or I'll get Ale and Ingrid to pull you out from under the shower” Lucy yelled down the hallway before entering the kitchen

“I see nothing has changed” Steph chuckled

“Not really no... she's starting to feel more at home... I'm thinking about getting her her own place... but then she comes home telling me she jumped a fence, landing in a garbage container AND losing my girlfriend in the stadium...” your sister sighed rubbing her forehead feeling a headache coming “... which tells me no own place for Bubs... she'll probably blows it up unintentionally within the first five hours”

“She'll come talk to you when she's ready to get her own place Lucy... you know she always had her own head” Steph said softly “.... thinking about it... every Bronze has their own head”

“Yeah well... I did raise her” Lucy pointed out smiling “... excuse me for a second... I have some phone calls to make... again”

“Take your time... I'm staying for a few days” blonde english woman said

“BUBS!!!” Lucy yelled down the hallway 30 minutes later

“What??” you yelled back from the bathroom just gotten out of the shower

“You able to read a watch?? I said 10 minutes... not 30” your sister knocked on the door

“I had to shave!” you said as you pulled the door open

“I... didn't need to know that” Lucy pulled a face

“Me legs... get your mind out of the gutter...” you rolled your eyes pushing past her “I normally get a full Brazilian every three weeks”

“You... you... you... what??” your sister stammered shuffling to catch up to you

“Yeah... Mapí told me about it and it's SO much more convenient than shaving... also.. more environment friendly” you said as you padded down the hallway towards the kitchen

“You... you....” Lucy couldn't get her head around the fact that you went and got – certain parts of your body waxed

“I get my... I want to say Pussy but I think that would break you...” you smirked “... so yes... I get me princess parts waxed”

“We'll never ever talk about that topic again” your sister said strictly after she recovered from her shock – and the fact that she ran into the wall

“Lucy.... I'm 17... I know what a pus...” you stated but Lucy quickly slapped her hand over your mouth

“NEVER again” Lucy looked at you with a death glare

“Let her be Lucy... she's just teasing you...” you heard Steph chuckle from her spot sitting at the kitchen island “Aren't you Blitzen?”

You nodded your head frantically agreeing with your sisters old teammate

“See Bronzey... just teasing” the blonde smirked knowing exactly you made your sister uncomfortable on purpose

“Never again Bubs... or I'll book you a session with Alexia in the Gym... private session... on her day off” your sister threatened you “Ona will be here in a few minutes... you want something to drink?”

“Can I have a KAS Limón?” you asked your eyes looking up at Lucy hopefully

“One...” Lucy said seriously knowing that if you'll have more than one of the soda you'll bounce off the walls the whole night “.... and don't you dare ask Ona for one too... that only worked once”

“You want one too Stephie?” you looked at Steph interested

“Water is fine Blitzen” the former City midfielder smiled

“Water?? Are you sick??” you asked confused before it dawned on you “OH MY GOD!!! YOU'RE DYING AREN'T YOU??!!!”

“No Blitzen... I'm not dying” Steph rolled her eyes “... stop jumping to the worst case”

“Oh... Oh god... my heart...” you clutched your heart theatrically puffing out a deep breath

“Such an actress” Lucys old teammate rolled her eyes

“Amor? Bebita?” you heard Ona called from the front door

“Ona” you raced outside “Steph’s here!!”

“Steph?” the blonde spaniard asked confused

“Houghton” you stressed as you “helped” Ona out of her jacket – you just pulled on the sleeve until the spaniard told you she can do it herself

“Okay...” Ona said still confused as she hung up her jacket which had now a slighter longer sleeve – the one you pulled on

“Come on... you know her... you played against her” you said a little annoyed

You loved Steph. Lucy loved Steph. Keira loved Steph. So why couldn't Ona love Steph?

“Bebita...” the spaniard huffed as you pulled her into the kitchen

“See... it's Steph” you said happily as you came to a halt right in front of the blonde englishwoman

“Hola” Ona said her voice uncharacterically cold

“Ah... I remember you – my shin remembers you... the little fierce spanish defender... from the bad Manchester” Steph grinned as she extended her hand “Steph”

“Ona...” the blonde spaniard took the hand and shook it shortly which Lucy noticed but you didn't

“She's the friendliest spaniard you'll find around here Steph” you said excited being extremely happy to have another “Mom” around

“That would be Jenni Bebita” Ona smiled at you but as soon her eyes left you her features got a little icy again

“But...” you started but got interrupted by Steph

“Blitzen... clam down... I'm staying for a few days” Steph chuckled

“Blitzen?” the blonde spaniard asked raising her eyebrow

“The amount of times I had to watch “Rudolph – The red nosed Reindeer” is uncountable...” the englishwoman rolled her eyes but a small smile tugged on her lips “... it also didn't work when we told her it's a winter movie... she would scream her head off until we put it on... after every tactic meeting... on the big screen... no one was allowed to leave until it was over”

“What?” Ona asked confused

“It's a Christmas movie... she loved it.. and the reindeer she loved most was Blitzen... and even as a wee one she was fast... so we called her Blitzen” Steph explained shrugging her shoulders “... once she screamed so hard and long her head was lobster red”

“Ugh... don't remind me... I thought she would stop breathing any second” Lucy said rolling her eyes as she put down the pan in the middle of the table

“Luuuuccyyyy...” you whined as you took a glance at the food “Paella???”

“I make excellent Paella you Brat...” your sister shoved you slightly

“But it with fishy stuff” you whined again before turning to the left “Onaaaaa”

“Tortilla de patatas?” the spaniard chuckled knowingly

“Sí por favor” you looked at her like a kicked puppy and she leaned over pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen

“Gracias” you yelled after her smiling brightly

“Okay Steph...” you asked chewing “... whadda do here?”

“Bubs please... I DID teach you manners” Lucy mumbled “... no talking with full mouth”

“What ya doing here Steph?” you asked again after you swallowed your food made by Ona

“I... needed to tell Lucy something and thought I'll come here since she invited me to Barcelona often” the englishwoman answered and you heard there was more to it

“You okay?” you asked getting serious suddenly

“More than okay...” Steph smiled before looking at you “... I'm pregnant”

“Oh I'm sorry” you blurted out

“BUBS” Lucy scolded you harshly and slapped the back of your head

“What...?” you looked confuses before you catched the soft look on Staphs face “.... you... wanted it?”

“Yes Blitzen... Stephen and I were trying for a while actually” the englishwoman smiled softly while your face stayed blank

“Oh my god... that's why you're here...” you jumped up your chair clattering to the floor “... your parents kicked you out.... that's no problem... you can stay here... you can have my bed...”

“Bubs...” your sister tried to stop your rambling

“... I can stay with Mapí... my bed is kinds small but when you and Stephen squeeze together you can make it work...” you kept on rambling “... but don't open the second drawer... oh and if G visits you kinda need to move to a hotel for a few days...”

“Bebita” now Ona tried to stop you while Lucys eyes popped out of her skull at the thought of you and Georgia doing some adult stuff under her roof

“... oh wait...” you suddenly stopped looking at a grinning Steph “... you keeping.... it... right?”

“Yes Blitzen... again... we were trying for a while” Steph laughed knowing you didn't mean it in a offending matter – it was just too much for you to process

“Okay....” you took a deep breath before looking at the former City player “... why?”

“Why what?” Steph looked at you confused

“Why trying for a while?” you tilted your head

“Bubs... Stephen and Steph wanted to be parents” Lucy said softly sensing you started to get stress confused

“You do remember I got married to Stephen a few years ago right?” Steph kept her voice soft “You were my flower girl”

“You made me wear a DRESS...” you grumbled “... of course I remember.. but WHY you want a semen demon?”

“BUBS!!” your sister exclaimed shocked

“Okay Blitzen... listen to me and listen carefully” the former City waited until she had your attention “My parents didn't kick me out... I moved out when I went to Uni and I never moved back in with me parents... secondly... I'm married... and thirdly... We want that child... you can relax Blitzen... everything is like it should be okay?”

“But... why??” you looked like your world was ending – or Steph loosing her plot “Children are manky and grim”

It took a second for Steph to register what you said. Then she couldn't hold back and barked out a laugh which turned into a whole hysterical laughed and every time she looked at your lost face a new wave of laughter bubbled through her body. Lucy and Ona just looked at each other shocked but when they saw how Steph couldn't stop laughing because of your face they just shrugged their shoulders and returned to their Paella

#lucy bronze x reader #ona batlle x reader #woso image #steph houghton

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logansargeantsbabymom · 5 months

Text

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt3

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, more shit talking

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

“I’m sorry mate, WHO SAID THAT?!” all sense of calmness decimated from Lando’s demeanor.

Everyone’s gaze bouncing between Lando, Logan, Zak and Me. The only thought in my mind throughout this whole altercation ‘Where did Zak get that I wanted Logan back’

Zak’s face went pale as he obviously wasn’t expecting to be outed like this. “N-no that-that’s not wuh-what I- We just had a conversation about their daughter and she”

The glare of Lando’s face was enough for Zak to stop talking. Zak knew he was in the wrong for butting into something that had nothing to do with him.

“You have NO RIGHT to talk to my girlfriend about how she lives her life! We're happy and that's all you should care about!" Lando should've known better than to yell at his CEO but Zak was way past overstepping a boundary and Lando was having none of it. "C'mon mate! I won't my first grand prix, I'm supposed to be out here celebrating with my lovely girlfriend and the rest of you guys and YOU'RE RUINING IT ZAK!"

The whole bar now is paying attention to the incident happening. People are whipping out their phones to record the whole thing, some even try to crowd around us hoping to provoke a fight between the two.

"DAMN BRO, YOU GON LET A BRIT TAKE YO PREGNANT GIRL? I WOULDN'T TAKE THAT SHIT IF I WAS YOU" some random dude yelled, phone in hand recording with the flash on further aggravating Lando

"Mate, this has nothing to do with you so just walk away." Lando said smacking the phone out of the random dude's hand, which then prompted him to start swinging in Lando's direction.

The guy was fairly tipsy so instead of any of the punches he's thrown landing on Lando, the guy lost his footing resulting none of his punches landing on me and THAT prompted Lando to start throwing hands with him too.

A crowd quickly formed around us, everyone was so busy trying to get the best angle for this bar fight laid out in front of them that none of them realized that they were literally trapping a just about 8 1/2 month pregnant woman in a sea of people.

The grid was too busy trying to pull Lando off the guy but once one guy got hit they started swinging until another one of the drunk guys friends jumped in and then it became a big mob mess. Some of the WAGS that were there retreated out of the bar, before realizing that a very much pregnant Y/N was not with them.

"GUYS! WHERE'S Y/N??" Alex shouted looking around hoping she just missed her and that she was out here safe and not in the middle of a literal bar fight.

After no one seemed to have an eye on Y/N, Alex peaked inside the window of the bar in hopes of finding Y/N before she gets trampled. No more than 15 seconds of peaking through the glass, Alex spots Y/N and the big crowd of drunken men fighting around her.

Back on the inside of the bar, I'm surrounded by men throwing punches and I'm trying so hard to not get hit again. I feel a hand pulling on my arm which prompt me to whip my head to see who it is.

"C'mon Y/N/N, you're gonna get hit again, it's not safe. Not for you and our daughter." I turn and see Logan attempting to shield me with his body as he yanks me up and protects me as he's guiding me to a safer part of the bar, pulling out a stool so I could sit down and he could evaluate whether or not I had an injury. Before I could even sit down on the stool, I feel a gush of wetness between my legs.

My eyes widen in horror as I look down at the mess I’ve just made as a contraction hits me “OH MY GODDD. NOT NOWWWWW” I hurl over in pain as Logan places both of his arms around me to steady me.

“Okay pretty girl, we have to get you to the hospital. let’s go, nice slow steps” Logan says as he rubs the small of my back, before looking back at Lando still mid fight.

Alex, who was watching my every movement like a hawk, quickly opens the bar door “OMG YOUR WATER BROKE? GET IN MY CAR” Alex and Logan both guided me into the “LILY, GO GET LANDO AND MEET US AT THIS HOSPITAL”

I was sat in the back seat with Logan as he was helping me breathe through my contractions and letting me squeeze his hand when the pain became too much.

I’ve been in active labor for 2 hours which means with every contraction I think ‘this is it. babygirl is coming right now’ and each time it’s a false alarm. Something about this contraction felt different, Logan could sense it too given that the way I squeezed his hand for this contraction was very much different from the ones prior.

Although this is my second time giving birth, this one felt so much more different then when I was giving birth to my son. After an excruciatingly long 2 minutes of this contraction I heard the door burst open and in runs a sweaty, bruised/cut open nose Lando with the facial expressions reading “please don’t tell me you had her already”

“I didn’t have her, don’t you worry. I would’ve kiAHHHHHHHH LOGAN SHES COMING. SOMEONE GET THE NURSE, I CAN FEEL HER COMING” in one swift motion Logan helps me sit up and breathe through this contraction while Lando yells for a L&D (labor & delivery) nurse.

“Hi honey, she shouldn’t be coming yet but let’s see how dial- OH MY GOSH HALF HER BODY IS O-” the poor nurse tried to be so calm and nice about this but when she lifted up the blanket she was met with my baby halfway out of my body and in one last push, mine and Logan’s daughter was born.

The sound of a silence filled room which triggered me, reminding me too much of the scene I had to endure 2 years ago but before I could scream and question what was wrong with my daughter, a beautiful cry ended up filling a once silent room.

Exhaustion hit me in waves and I plopped back to rest, closing my eyes before I feel lips on my forehead.

“Thank you so much for bringing my babygirl into this world. You’re so strong. I love you so much.” Logan murmurs against my temple which causes Lando to get very upset but given the circumstances, he lets it slide.

“Okay mom, here’s your little precious bundle of joy” my nurse, Kinley whispers as she hands me my baby.

One look at her and you can tell she’s Logan’s daughter, she’s a spitting image of her dad. Blonde hair, green eyes, she even has light freckles.

“What do you want to name her Logan?” I whisper, almost afraid that if I speak any louder that this’ll all fade and I’d be that once empty, soulless mess I was.

“Yelena Ivy Sargeant” I can’t believe that Logan remembered the name I had chosen when I thought our first pregnancy was a girl, I’d only mentioned the name twice before we found out he was a boy

“you remembered” a sigh escapes my lips as I look intensely in his eyes

“I never forgot, that name made you so happy.” one of Logan’s hands found a place on my cheek before silently asking for permission to hold his daughter, which I gracefully handed her over.

“What do you think about her name Lando?” I ask as I turn my head to my boyfriend who’s stood on the opposite side of bed than Logan is.

“I have no say because that’s yours and Logan’s decision but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a beautiful name” Lando’s lips find a place on my temple while a hand strokes my hair “hey i’m gonna step outside and let them know that little miss Yelena Ivy is now apart of the family” lando places one more quick kiss on my forehead before grabbing one of my hands, kissing it too and leaving.

After Lando left, the room fell in a comfortable silence. Just Logan, Yelena and Me enjoying each other’s company.

“she’s so beautiful” Logan whispers as he plants a small, delicate kiss on the top of her head

“she looks just like you” I smile, the first genuine smile I’ve given Logan in lord knows how many months and he smiles right back at me before gently bouncing Yelena as she coos.

As I looked in Logan’s eyes when he smiled back at me before he turned his attention back to our baby, something felt different.

I wish I could capture this moment in time right here, where everything felt so right, so normal. Nothing could ruin this moment, not when I felt like I had it all. A well paying job, my daughter, a man who loved both of us unconditionally, and for a moment i did have it all except for the fact that Logan and I weren’t together anymore and that one fact did ruin the moment.

When Logan handed Yelena back to me, he whispered “You’ve given me the greatest gift anyone could’ve ever given me and I will spend eternity trying to right my wrongs and win you back, even if it’s not relationship wise, I can’t have my daughters mother, the love of my life mad at me forever” tears welled up in my eyes as one thought crossed my mind when he mentioned ‘the love of my life’

why did my heart just flutter?

HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3333333

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal

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wileys-russo · 11 months

Note

hey! no clue if your requests are open but if they are how about leah x reader where leah plans a date where they go golfing, hoping to impress reader with her skills but reader actually plays golf too and ends up being better than leah at it. so leah is just completely dumbfounded and slightly annoyed (in a good way) but also impressed. also cueing some teasing from r about being better.

big swing II l.williamson

"this is where we're spending the day?" you laughed as leah pulled up to the golf course, grinning at you as she parked the car. "i told you we were doing an outdoor activity and to dress for the occasion." leah hurried out of the car and to your side, popping open your door.

"thank you, charmer." you smiled, pecking her lips as she closed the door after you. "when the hell did you pack those?" you shook your head as leah popped her boot, grabbing out a set of clubs.

"never you mind my girl." leah grinned. "oh you're a sick sick woman." you sighed, seeing the engraved LW on each club, your girlfriend shoving your head playfully before slinging the clubs over her shoulder, locking her car and holding out her hand for you to take.

she booked you both in, promising to take you out for lunch afterwards as you watched on in amusement as she made a point to greet everyone you came across, relishing in the fact they all knew her by name, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye clearly trying to impress you.

she made sure to introduce you to everyone as her girlfriend, dropping the word as often as she could with a proud grin on her face. "hey stewart, can you hook my girlfriend up with a set of clubs please?" leah leant forward on the counter with a charming smile toward the older man.

"i'm just gonna go put my clubs in the cart love." leah murmured quietly, kissing the side of your head and stepping outside as stewart brought out a few different sets for you to try.

selecting the ones you were happy with you were quick to pay for them before your girlfriend returned, earning yourself an annoyed scowl from the taller blonde as you met her outside, handing her your chosen clubs to load in the back of the cart with her own.

"today was supposed to be on me, cheeky girl." leah tutted as you slid into the cart beside her, kissing her cheek and mumbling a thank you into the skin as she started the cart, driving you to the first hole.

"you go first babe, show me how its done." you waved for her to start as leah hopped out of the cart, riffling through her clubs and pulling out her driver, sending you a wink as you leaned against the cart, dropping your sunglasses down onto your nose as she positioned herself.

you clapped politely at leahs first shot which sailed straight down the green, the blonde nodding in satisfaction as she made her way back to you. "do you want a hand picking out which club to use?" leah offered with a somewhat cocky smile, and so deciding to play into her ego you nodded.

leah selecting your club she took your hand and guided you to the tee, making a show of demonstrating where your hands go and how to swing, only stepping away once you assured you were okay.

you smiled to yourself as your first shot went straight, it didn't go as far as leah's but it did remain on the fairway and you shrugged happily. "nice shot gorgeous, must have a good teacher!" leah winked as the two of you drove down to where your balls sat.

"mmm something like that."

it turns out, it was something like that however not what leah imagined.

she'd taken you golfing in hopes of being able to show off, wanting you to be impressed and proud as well as giving herself an opportunity to get a little handsy with you as she showed you the ropes.

however, leahs plan was unraveling with every hole the two of you played. you'd rejected needing her help and much to leahs absolute horror you were winning.

by now she'd put two and two together that you'd clearly played before, your shots all effortlessly successful as you'd send her a smile and a wink afterward, asking if there was anything she'd have you do differently as your teacher, only winding up the defender further.

"so. did you plan on ever telling me you're secretly a golf pro?" the blonde asked moodily as you returned by her side after making a birdie with a happy grin. "you never asked." you smiled smugly, stealing a kiss and gesturing for her to take her shot.

"you never asked." the blonde mocked under her breath with a huff, only widening your smile at how much this was getting to her. her annoyance grew as she missed an easy putt, smacking her club into the ground and swearing loudly.

"hey hey williamson we treat our tools with respect here, this isn't a football pitch there isn't someone who comes and fixes the grass at half time." you teased, the blonde sending you a murderous glare as you grinned, blowing her a kiss as she tapped her ball in and made her way back to you.

"don't be a sore loser." you cooed, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek repeatedly as she pushed you off. "i love golf! why didn't you tell me you were so good, we could have played together already." leah pouted with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest.

"because i hate golf. the only reason i'm decent is because its the only way my dad ever tried to bond with me, we spent almost every second sunday playing golf and he was not a patient teacher." you laughed, grabbing her hands and squeezing them gently.

"you'd still destroy me on the football pitch lee, now stop being so stroppy." you kissed her knuckles. "we're going for a kick around for our next date then." leah decided firmly making you laugh and agree, pulling the older girl into a proper kiss.

"now, would you like me to show you how to properly swing captain?" "oh fuck off!"

#leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs

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olsenmyolsen · 1 year

Text

You Have Me For The Night (18+)

master list

dark master list

MCU AU (Female Reader X WandaNat)

Summary: You need a job and money. Luckily, Natasha Romanoff knows exactly what you can do.

Word Count: 11.7K

Content: Heavy Smut! Sex!!! Fingering, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Edging, Begging, Strap, Praise, switch!Wanda, Transactional Relationship, Corruption kink(?), Oral, Handjob, Aftercare, Feelings

Also special thanks to @lesbianpizza for their help from time to time ❤️

Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck, and they knew it.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

They loved each other deeply and cared for one another more than themselves. But between training, missions, and the workload of it all. They never ended up on the same page. Or together. In fact, it had been weeks upon weeks since Natasha had touched Wanda and vice versa.

So when week five turned into six. Both of the women felt like they were losing it. Wanda wanted to cry because Nat was across the globe while Natasha wanted to capture their mark and kill the man who made her miss her very spicy scheduled FaceTime call with her little Wands.

But here's where you come in.

You see. You've always been.. flexible. Open-minded.

And with a little download of a very specific new app and a background check using SHIELD encrypted servers led one wife... renting... you for the other.

But we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. So let's back it up a bit and show what happened before you pulled up to a lovely house in upstate New York.

"How's the job hunt going?" Your best friend and roommate Ava Starr asked, making you sigh. Truth be told, since your girlfriend up and left you five months ago for her coworker Jean. You haven't done much of anything. I mean, you cried and got angry and cried again. Got sad. Thought about adopting a cat. But didn't and then cried about not adopting the cat. On top of that, since your father's recent death, you've been coasting off his inheritance. But that money was slowly disappearing.

Hence, the job hunt.

"Oh, it's going.." You reply while you skim through Netflix before switching to Hulu, not satisfied with any of the options. Ava huffs from the kitchen before entering the living room and yanking the Roku remote from your hand, turning the TV off. "Hey!" You barely moved from your laying position on the couch.

Ava walks in front of you, making you eye level with her legs. "Did you use my razor? Your legs are looking better than normal." "Y/N!" Your roommate exclaims, making you look up to her. "Get up." You shake your head. "No."

"Y/N."

"I don't want to." Ava rolls her eyes at you. "Y/N. Now." You groan loudly and annoyingly before sitting up. "Child." Ava huffs at you before sitting right next to you. "Have you at least gone out?"

You know what Ava is getting at. The have you tried dating or hooking up? Question. "Tuesday night." You reply, making Ava furrow her eyebrows before she closes them. "Y/N. You and I went out for Chinese on Tuesday night!"

"I went out!" You whine. "With me. We're not dating!" Ava yells and pushes your shoulder lovingly. "We could."

"We could what?"

"Date." You wiggle your eyebrows as Ava laughs. "No. We couldn't. You're not my type."

"What to pretty?"

"Too annoying." She beat you there. "Besides. You know what I'm getting at." Ava gets up to check on her pasta. You let your body go limp and slide down the couch, forcing your sweatshirt to ride up, exposing your stomach. "Did you even try the apps I downloaded for you!" Ava yells from the kitchen. You mumble in response to her that she surprisingly hears.

"Maybe you just need something new," Ava spoke as she came into the room again with a bowl in her hand. "Maybe." You reply. "Where's your phone?" Ava asks as you slide back up the couch, pulling your shirt down. "I don't know somewhere ar-"

"I got it."

You shrugged as Ava typed in your password and searched through the App Store for you. She started asking you questions, but you were too focused on stealing her bowl of food to notice. She even slapped your hand away when you weren't being as sneaky as you thought.

"Oh, can it." Says your so-called best friend.

You sniffed loudly as she handed your phone back to you. "What is it?" You asked, looking at an empty profile of yourself. "I downloaded an app called hush. It's supposed to solve the two biggest problems you are doing nothing about. Basically, have sex. Get money."

You looked through the photos of the women on the app and felt your face getting warm. "How did you find out about it?" You asked, unable to pull your eyes away from a blonde woman named Carol. "I didn't. It was new. But the reviews seem to be nothing but praise. Plus, only women are allowed to use it. I think it connects to your phone account or something.. I don't know... I just signed you up and hit okay every time a thing popped up." That made you pull your eyes away.

"What if I'm signed up to have like my kidneys harvested or something!?" Ava shrugs at you and spins a forkful of noodles. "It'll be better than to hear you close and reopen Netflix fifteen times a night."

"You're being mean tonight."

"Only because I love you."

You got that right.

You flip through the profile and information tabs. "hush haven for under satisfied hores..?" You did a double-take as you read the words again. Ava snickered while watching you. "They spelled whores wrong." You pointed out, making Ava smack you on the arm.

"Okay, so once I upload my.. pictures.." You look to Ava, who nods along. "And select which category I'm in. Giver or Muse... Then it looks like I wait until someone swipes on me. And then the conversation can start.."

Ava sets her bowl of food down and leans over to help you. "Alright. Let's get to work." She states, forcing you to look at her dumbfounded. "But I was going to look through my.." "Nudes?" She cuts you off. "So what, dude? I've known you half your life. Grow up." Ava makes a point and grabs the phone out of your hand. You don't even try to fight because you get distracted by her pasta. Not wasting another second, you grab it and shove a forkful in your mouth.

"Hey!" Ava finally looks up from the phone. "Come on! I bought dinner on Tuesday." You claim, which Ava rolls her eyes at. "Fine." Ava goes back to your phone before she remembers. "Wait, no, you didn't! I did!"

It's a wonder how you ended up in the bedroom of Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff.

As Ava and you set aside your food-related differences and finish setting up your profile. Across the globe, The Black Widow is sitting in a dingy one-bedroom flat waiting for her ride home after taking down an illegal arms operation.

When her phone rings, she expects it to be Wanda but gets disappointed when it's a bald one-eyed man. "Fury," Natasha says in a manner only she can to a superior. "Romanoff." He replies. "I see you didn't run into any trouble on your little excursion." He smiles, knowing Natasha isn't. "Just the usual. Wasn't even a challenge. I made one guy break his own arm just so he wouldn't have to deal with me."

Fury raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure he was more than happy to do so." Natasha shrugs. "Eh, I still pepper-sprayed him." Natasha leans back in the wooden chair she's in. "So what's the call for?"

"I got some intel on a dark web app called hushquietly launching. Don't know if it's legit. Don't know if it's not. But I figured while I got you waiting on a ride, you could help me out. What do you say, Romanoff?"

Natasha sighs. Nicks got her. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Appreciate it. Say hi to Misses for me when you get home." The line goes dead, and Natasha is left wondering about Wanda. Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. How much she misses her touch. How badly she wants to be with her right now. To feel her.

She dips her back and bites her lip before remembering where she was. "Goddamnit!" Natasha curses and storms off to gather her laptops and get to work.

Safe to say, over the next couple of hours, Natasha couldn't find anything on this so-called hush. The keyword existed but not in a way that would be important to SHIELD or The Avengers. Natasha even scoured the ligament app stores repeatedly, and nothin- "Wait a minute.." Natasha leaned forward and clicked on an app that she could've sworn wasn't there a second ago.

Once the app opened, it was apparent that this was not what Fury was looking for. But.. Natasha didn't stop... She looked over the fine detail of the signup menu and the tagline below.

"A special someone for your special someone."

She looked over the full name of the app before she made sure to think about what she was doing. The line between right and wrong was a little blurry. But the line in the sand was quickly drawn when Natsah's phone went off.

A text from her wife.

"I don't know when you'll see this, Milaya, but I just want you to know that while I think about you every day... right now, I'm thinking about you in a way that makes me cry because you can't fuck me."

Attached was a photo of her Sokovian in Natasha's favorite red lingerie set.

Natasha's fingers hovered over the keys to type a response before stopping herself and smiling.

Not too much later, a message was sent.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, smiling, sipping on a beer. On her laptop was every single thing she could find about you. When everything came up green, and the a-okay was given to Natasha's brain, she let you know your services would be required.

Natasha held her phone and double-checked that the cameras inside and outside the house were in working order.

They were.

"This should be fun."

Ding!

Your phone lit up with a notification from hush. It worked. Whatever you and Ava did worked. "Dude!" Ava looked at the message from a very hot redhead named Natalie. "You have to take this!" You paused your show and looked at the message. You barely skimmed it before you saw the price that was being offered to you. That made you go over and re-read everything Natalie sent.

"I told you the Halloween Catsuit picture would be a good choice!" Ava cheered as you clicked on the pictures of Natalie. You knew the pictures had to be of her. The app ran an algorithm that detected fake/ai photos. So, was Natalie like a model? Or just sculpted by the gods? What did they need you for?

But as you re-read the message for a third time. You still couldn't believe it.

"Hello Y/N,

I'm just going to cut straight to the chase. I want your services tonight for my wife, Wendy.

I'm away on business, and lately, I haven't been able to give my wife the satisfaction she needs. So, inquiring someone as beautifully stunning as you isn't a wrong place to ask. I'm willing to spend $10,000 for tonight's services and hoping we can bend the rules a little. If you accept, we will discuss more.

Hope to hear from you ;)"

You stared down at your phone, unaware of Ava reading over your shoulder. Your only focus was on three things.

1. Natalie wants you to fuck her wife. 2. She called you beautifully stunning, which means she's seen your pics, and that made you get very, very, very warm. 3. $10,000.

Your phone dinged again as a new message appeared while your brain was processing.

Okay, now there was one more thing on your mind.

Natalie's wife, Wendy.

"After this, I won't be able to send you anything else until you accept. So, with that in mind, Y/N, here's a picture of Wendy from Halloween last year. I thought you might enjoy this since you posted that very sexy Catsuit photo from Halloween. Anyways, cute, right? Just imagine what she's like when she is begging to be fucked like the slut she is."

The accept button was staring at you in the face.

After looking at a picture like that, how could you say no?

"She's gorgeous," Ava spoke up for the both of you. You just nodded before moving your lips. "She is." Then it dawned on you once again."Holy fuck."

Wendy's wife was about to pay you $10,000 to have sex with someone that you'd pay to hurl slurs at you. Not that you think Wendy would, but you get the point.

Natasha's phone beeped on the bedside table where she was staying. She leaned over, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and bike shorts, having changed after Fury told her that her ride would be delayed.

Anyways. It wasn't Wanda or Fury messaging her.

It was you.

She smiled and felt the giddiness run through her body when she read the words: "I accept."

The money hit your account quicker than you thought possible. Seconds after you accepted Natalie's offer, the money was there.

Along with an address and Natalie's preferences for what you should wear for Wendy.

- No Panties - Black Dress - Black Tights - Black Heels - Peach Lipstick

You didn't know why it had to be peach lipstick, but when you asked Natalie, she told you to "ask Wendy."

Regardless, Ava and you couldn't believe it. You couldn't think that this was actually happening. That this was going to work. Which meant you couldn't believe that you had to tell Ava that she was right for once.

Luckily, Ava didn't let it get to her head. (She did, especially because she just happened to have the peach lipstick you needed.)

Ava offered to drive you to the location typed in, in your maps app, but you've seen the way she drives, and you'd like to arrive in one piece, so you Ubered.

"Couple of minutes out." You messaged "Natalie".

Unbeknownst to you was that Natasha was already tracking you. Laying in bed, one arm propping her up, she watched a little dot, you, arrive closer and closer to the house she and her wife, Wanda, shared.

Natasha could imagine your face sprinkled with curiosity as the Uber made its way up the winding road that was their driveway.

Even better was the fact that Wanda knew nothing. After messaging her wife earlier, she had to be left to her own devices, which was nice and all, but Wanda was missing contact. Her vibrator and fingers could only do so much. She missed the touch of someone on her body. Lips on her own. Fingers in her hair. She needed it and more!

Badly!!

Wanda turned off the living room TV after not paying attention to anything for the last half hour and was ready to head upstairs when her phone started ringing.

Stopping in front of the stairs, she smiled. "Hi, baby!" Wanda giggled, hoping Natasha would be home soon. "Hi detka." Her wife replied. "How are you?" Wanda asked as she ran up the stairs to peel off her sweats she put on following her afternoon activities. "I'm good Wands. Waiting for my ride out. So I'll be home later than scheduled."

Wandastoppedmoving as her pants fell to the ground, revealing the red strap she put on earlier just for Natasha. "Oh.." The disappointment in Wanda's voice was evident. "Wanda-" "No, it's okay, Tasha. I get it." Wanda sadly took off her top and was about to remove the harness when Natasha's voice spoke up on speaker. "Stop what you're doing!"

Wanda froze her movement. "Don't take that off!" Natasha spoke again. "How did- cameras." Even though Wanda couldn't see it, her wife smiled. "Turn around for me, beautiful." Wanda took her hands off the strap and turned around to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Smiling at it when she saw the red light glowing underneath it.

Natasha was watching.

"Was that for me?" Natasha smirked. "It was."Wanda grabbed the phone and walked around to the side of the bed, bringing herself closer to the camera. Leaning back so Natasha gets the full of view of her naked wife with a 7" red silicone cock.

"What was my little witch planning on doing with it?" Natasha asked, knowing full damn well. Wanda playfully rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"I think only good girls who come home are allowed to know," Wanda spoke as she turned around, showing off her big smooth ass. Working out with a spy has its benefits.

"So if I were there, you'd do something about it?" Natasha asked while her eyes watched your dot stop right in front of the house. Your Uber leaving. Wanda still having no idea.

Wanda sat on the bed, smiled, and stared at the camera as she started moving her hand up and down the shaft of the cock. "Yes." The Sokovian spoke.

Nat bit her lip as the ring camera went off. The noise and notification alerting Wanda as well. "Is that you?" She looked up to the camera, asking. "No, baby. It's not. But it's for you, my Wendy."

Wanda turned and grabbed her phone, confused. "For me? Wendy-" The alias made Wanda remember times before the I Do's. "Natasha, what did you do?" Wanda was about to take her strap off yet again when Natasha commanded her not to.

"Keep it on. But on your pink robe. She'll explain everything detka. I'll call you in a bit. I'll be watching on cams."

With that, Natasha hung up and left Wanda in their bedroom, horny and confused about what her wife had in store. She turned her head and saw the red light still on. Okay. Wanda thought. Let's see what this is. She ran to the bathroom and slipped on her pink-colored robe before making her way downstairs.

On the front porch, you felt sillier and sillier. The doorbell had gone off twice, and no one had come to the door. You were about to call it quits and probably cry when you got home when your phone buzzed.

"She's coming, baby, don't worry."

If the term of endearment didn't make you blush, then the woman on the other side of the door would have when it flew open, revealing the woman from the photo sent earlier.

This time, instead of a Halloween costume, she was wearing a bathrobe. Her smooth skin was darker than in the photo, and the picture you saw didn't do her eyes justice. Standing before you, you could see pools of emeralds she had been blessed with. Her freckles and moles danced across her body, making you look everywhere before you focused up and smiled as she did the same. "Hi." She softly spoke.

Her slightly accented voice makes you want to scream without the s.

"Hi." You smiled like an idiot, even extending your hand like one, too. "Y/N." Wanda smiled at your cuteness. "Wendy." She said, knowing you'd believe it. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N?" Wanda stepped onto the front porch, coming closer to you. She was now at your level. A bit shorter than you, thanks to your heels.

The step down made her cock jiggle, not that you saw. You fumbled over your words, making Wendy smile and giggle. You froze and let a heatwave run over your body. That giggle of hers, you'd do anything to hear it again.

"Try again, sweetheart."

The pet name should've clued you into the fact that maybe Wendy already knew what you were doing here, but it didn't. You just smiled and started speaking while trying not to get lost in her eyes.

Oh, Tasha, she's so cute. Where did you get this one?

While you poorly explained the events that led you to having an app placed onto your phone, Wanda decided to look you over discretely.

Natasha dressed you. If the black on black on black wasn't a giveaway, then the peach lipstick would've been.

Wanda smiled as she watched your kissable peach-covered lips move. She was going to have fun with you.

Wanda's eyes quickly moved up your body again past the black heels that you'd be in all night and up your legs. Your dress stopping not even mid-way down your thighs.

Wanda was highly aware of what all of this meant.

"...so then, after seeing that cute costume, I accepted. I must say you're much more beautiful in person. Natalie didn't do you justice." You rambled, and Wanda picked up the name Natasha was going with. "Why thank you, Y/N." Wanda smiled before opening her mouth again.

"I know you said this was your first time using this.. app.. but have you ever done something like this?" Wanda needed to know. You slowly shook your head, and Wanda had to do her best to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. "Good." She said. "Good."

You watched Wendy look you over once more. "You look stunning, Y/N. I'm lucky to have you tonight." You opened your mouth in shock. "No, Wendy, believe me. I'm the lucky one." She smiled at you before turning around and opening her door wide for you to follow her in. "We'll see."

Natasha watched you follow her wife inside on the ring camera and slowly moved her hand over her clothed pussy, still wet from when she saw Wanda's cock.

Your heels were loud against the hardwood floor of the modern house in the middle of nowhere. "It's beautiful." You looked around as you followed Wendy into a giant kitchen. "Thank you. Natas- Natalie and I designed it ourselves." Wanda quickly looked into the corner of the ceiling, the red light on.

"Could I interest you in anything to drink?" Wendy walked to the other side of the kitchen island. You were about to answer when you closed your mouth shut as your eyes landed on the woman's green eyes staring back at you. Her robe was no longer closed like it was moments ago. Instead, it was strategically open—a clear view of Wendy's side boobs and flat stomach. You could now pinpoint a mole on her left breast. You licked your lips as she leaned forward over the island. Her lower half was still a mystery to you as her boobs threaded to spill out.

"I- I-" You stuttered, forcing Wendy to lean up and smirk at you. "You really haven't done anything like this before. Aren't you adorable?" She said the second sentence under her breath, but you heard her.

That made your legs press together.

Through the laptop screen, Natasha smirked, too. Wanda and Natasha were always teaching each other things. But the ability to flirt and get what you want was masterfully taught to Wanda over the years. "You're doing so good, baby.." Natasha moaned as her finger brushed over her covered clit.

"Here, we'll start with some water." Wendy turned away from you, opening their fridge and pulling out a water bottle. She opened it quickly and set it down near her. "Come here." She spoke softly to you. You swallowed and made your way across the kitchen. The only noise in the house being your heels.

Wanda closed a drawer and placed a straw in your bottle as you stopped before her. Still unaware of the surprise under the robe. "I wouldn't want you to mess up your lipstick."

Not yet.

"Thank you." You awkwardly smiled and took the bottle from Wendy, who watched you drink it like a proud mother. "Good job." She whispered as her right hand pushed some of your loose hairs behind your ear. Her delicate fingers moved down behind your ears and to your neck. Stopping there. "Finished?" She asked as her other hand reached and grabbed the water bottle from you. You nodded as Wendy took a sip as well.

The cold contact from the water made goosebumps appear all over Wendy's body.

Wanda gasped and had a giant smile form as her nipples became hard and brushed up against the robe concealing them. Her eyes pierced through you as you smiled back at her. Your eyes quickly moving up from Wanda's cleavage. "Y/N?" She asked, setting the water down. "I'd like to ask a couple of questions that maybe my wife didn't ask or maybe things she already knows. If that's okay?"

You nodded.

"I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." Wendy gently but sternly reminded you as she ran her cold hands over your dress down to your hips, where she kept them in place. "How old are you?"

"25." You replied, making Wendy's face light up. "Wow. Still so young.." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you have a girlfriend?" You shook your head, earning a squeeze on the hips from Wendy. You did your best to hold in a moan but lightly failed. "Speak up, baby." Wanda teased.

"No girlfriend." Wanda smiled. "Good girl. Boyfriend?"

You quickly shook your head and told her no, making Wendy laugh. "Even better, detka.." She whispered as your breath became more erratic. "Safe word?" She asked.

You shook your head before speaking up. "Never had one before." For a split second, Wanda felt bad that you never had one, but her eyes sparkled with wild thoughts. "Mango. That's the word we'll use." The older woman decided. "Don't be afraid to use it either. It stops all actions and can keep you safe. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Natasha watched as her wife's hands moved from your hips to behind your back, right above your ass. Wanda was slowly pushing more and more into your space. Your lower back up against the kitchen island.

"Come on, Wanda, show her the camera..." Natasha pleaded.

"You can put your hands on me," Wendy spoke as she watched your hands rise and fall. "Go ahead. Touch me." She looked up to you. You placed your hands on her shoulder, still covered by the robe. "Are you nervous?" You both knew the answer, but Wanda wanted to hear you say it. "Yes."

"That's okay." Wendy's eyes sparkled. "Pretty soon, you won't be." That made your stomach flip positively. You think. "Here..." Wendy quickly removed her hands from you and pushed herself away. Covering her body with the robe again and leaning on the counter a couple of feet away from you.

You wanted to whine at the loss of contact and the sight of her body, but you didn't. Instead, you looked shocked. "I'll start slow and help ease you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl." Your cheeks went red again, but Wendy didn't stop to comment on it. "To help tonight go smoothly for you, I'm going to be honest." Wanda looked at the camera and back to you. "Wendy is not my name. It's Wanda. My wife is Natasha, not Natalie."

That definitely didn't help your nerves, but it made you feel better knowing that maybe they lied because for a good reason. "I trust you not to tell anybody about it tonight, so there's no harm in telling you our real names."

"Oh... okay. Is it a safety thing?" You asked as your nerves settled a bit. Wen-Wanda nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." You nodded back. "Will Natasha be mad?"

"She's probably a little annoyed as we're speaking, but come tomorrow morning, she'll be just fine. Don't you worry about her." Wanda scrunched her nose up at you as she took a step closer. You looked at her fondly as her eyes grazed over you. In a normal conversation, she's still a goddess.

How can she even be looking at me?

Wanda played with the large belt of her robe before letting the ends causally fall. You watch in one quick motion. Wanda slipped a shoulder out of her robe as she approached you. "Y/N.." She breathed out as you lifted your hand to touch her bare skin. The minuscule divots in your thumb smoothing over her shoulder. "Yes.." Your voice lost itself as you felt a yearning build deep within you.

"I want you to look at me," Wanda commanded, watching your eyes find hers.

She took a step towards you. "Y/N, in the corner of the ceiling, there is a camera with a red light on under it. That's Natasha. So I want you to say hi. Okay? Tell her that her wife is in good hands tonight. You do that, and you can touch more than just my shoulder... Is that something you want Y/N?" Before you can respond, she says:

"Because I want you to touch me."

Wanda bites her bottom lip and watches as you process this information. The two of you becoming wetter with every passing second. Especially when Wanda lays her left hand on the inside of your left thigh. "Tell her hi, baby.."

You close your eyes as the feeling of Wanda's hand on you burns, but it feels so fucking good. You turn your head and open your eyes to the red light in the corner. "Hi Natasha.." You pant as Wanda's hand rises. "Keep going." She says, like you're not struggling already. Fuck it has been a while since you got laid. "Your wife is in.. good hands t-tonight."

You turn back to Wanda, who surprises you by jumping into you and kissing you. You melt as your lips collide. A moan slipping through your lips. You inhale Wanda for the first time tonight and smell lavender. Her body falls on yours, and you wrap your arms tightly around her, pulling her closer, hoping to relieve the pressure between your legs.

But that's when you feel it and moan into Wanda's smirking mouth. "Wanda!" You moan again as Wanda pushes into you harder this time. "Oh, Y/N!" Wanda removes her lips from yours and sends them down your chin before latching onto your neck. Kisses slowly morph into bites and marks of territory.

After all, you were hers for tonight.

Natasha watches your breaths become ragged as you throw your head back and moan loudly. Natasha pants and moans her wife's own name as she slides two fingers up and down her wet clit before slowly putting her middle and ring finger into her needy pussy.

"Oh, Wanda! Fuck!"

"Take my robe off!" Wanda looks up at you, detaching her mouth from your red collarbone. You nod and make work of the robe before it falls to the floor, revealing Wanda and her heavenly body. You push her by her shoulders to get a good look at her.

Perfection. That is all that comes to mind.

"Natasha is lucky." You reiterate your point from earlier as you look down at her body. You're in awe even when your eyes land on the real surprise of tonight.

"Look at how wet you've already gotten it, Y/N."

You do, indeed, take a closer look and see that down the tip of the fake cock is your wetness. "No panties, baby?" Wanda asks in a voice that makes your brain short-circuit. You shake your head. "No panties, Mommy."

You, Wanda, and Natasha all went wide-eyed at that.

Your therapist is going to have more issues to work out next Thursday.

Wanda quickly recovered, unlike you, and took steps closer until she was right up against you like before. The tip of her cock sliding through your wet lips. Earning a visceral moan. "Just wait till later.." Her words hit your burning ears. You nodded and almost begged her to just fuck you right there, but Wanda placed her hands on your hands, stopping you from touching her. Her hips moving forward and back at a quicker pace as she placed kisses on your neck once again.

You couldn't process words, much less speak, at this moment.

You shrieked when Wanda bit you hard. You squirmed when Wanda's mouth didn't stop leaving darker marks than before. "Y/N.." She groaned. "I want you to thank Natasha for this." Your mouth hung open as the length of the cock continuously slid up and down your wet pussy. "Thank her for the both of us. Can you do that?" You wanted to say yes, but the feeling of pure bliss was coming, and you didn't want it to stop.

Neither did Wanda, but this was just light fun. This was the first phase.

Once you two made it upstairs, that's when the real fun would begin.

But for now, the hunping began to slow, as did Wanda's kisses on your neck.

She lifted her head and let go of your hands. Her cock remained still as she took her hands to your face. Pulling your chin down to look at her. "Don't make this difficult," Wanda warned you as you were coming down from your non-orgasm. You went to nod, but Wanda's other hand touched you. While Wanda's shaft was up against your thighs and pussy her fingers found your clit. Soaked and desperate for attention again, she slowly began circling it with precision.

"Look at the camera and thank my wife. Thank Natasha." Her pace increased, as did your breathing. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth.

"Thank-k.." Wanda's other hand reached your back and held you in place. "Keep going, Y/N."

"Th-thank you-u..." You moaned loudly. "Wanda!" "Don't stop!" Her middle finger was now helping you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Natasha-ah! Thank you!" You squealed as Wanda's fingers immediately left you. In an instant, your back slammed against the kitchen island as Wanda thrusted her cock against your clit. You stumbled in your heels and fell back onto the countertop. Your open legs and wet thighs on display for Wanda thanks to your dress riding up.

Wanda was in love with your body.

Meanwhile, you had yet to cum. You had never experienced something like this, and you were so thankful that it wasn't going to stop. "Come here." Wanda reached up and grabbed you by your wrists. Pulling you off the countertop and in front of her yet again. "Strip!"

You stumbled again as you tried to find your footing. Two times, you had been denied an orgasm, yet you couldn't help but feel a little shy and smile as you nodded and went to take your heels off for Wanda. But she stopped you forcefully, grabbing you by your arm. "Y/N.." She looked at your furrowed brows. "We talked about this earlier. I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." You nodded again. She was right. "I'm sorry."

Then, a smile appeared on Wanda's face. "There we go. But what else do we say? I'm sorry..." You tilted your head at her before it dawned on you. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Wanda smiled wider and leaned forward to kiss you. "That's my girl. I'm sorry I had to grab you like that, but I want you to be good. Okay?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Okay. Now, I only want you to strip out of the dress. Keep the tights and heels on for me." You nodded again as Wanda pulled you away from the kitchen and island and more towards the open space of the giant room. Closer to the camera. "Do it here." She turned to you and waited for you to get to work. Once you started, a smile never left Wanda's face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." She said again, making you blush. "Isn't she Nat?" Wanda looked up to the camera while she walked around you. Hand stroking her wet cock.

All thanks to you.

Natasha twitched as her wet fingers slid over her swollen clit. She smiled and watched your dress hit the floor. "She's adorable," Natasha spoke to herself. But Wanda knew. She also knew Natasha was going to thoroughly enjoy what was to come.

You weren't sure what to do. Well, you knew you wanted to have sex; no, sorry, that's wrong- You knew you wanted to be fucked by Wanda, but you were in no position to make demands or ask questions. Since you stepped foot into this house, Wanda was in charge.

And you didn't want to upset Mommy.

So your anticipation built over the next few seconds as Wanda stared at your body. You could see it in her eyes that she was fascinated with you, which was nice. It felt terrific. But all you wanted was her touch again. To actually feel her again!

So when Wanda stepped right over your dress and put her hands on your body, you let out a moan just for her. Your thighs clamped together just as her lips found their way to your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, biting your breast. Her left hand landed on your other boob. Her fingers trailed to push it up and take it into her hand. Groping you. The rough feeling sending waves of pleasure all over your body. Her other hand found its way to your hip bone. Kneading and pulling you close. Forcing your wet thighs to push up against her cock. Begging for an opening.

You rolled your eyes back and spread your legs for Wanda's cock to slide right in and over your core. Both of your stomachs slamming into one another, making you put your hands on Wanda's back. Pulling her close. "Someone's desperate." She chuckled as you squirmed and nodded.

You wanted it so bad.

But you were denied once again as Wanda began to pull back. You immediately refocused your eyes and looked down at Wanda with a plead stuck in your throat as she lifted her mouth off your boob.

"Does someone want to cum?"

You nodded. "Please." Wanda smiled at that and kissed your chest up to your neck. Her cock sliding up and down your pussy. "Not yet." You went to whine, but Wanda stopped you. "Not here. Let's go upstairs." You looked down at Wanda to make sure she was serious.

Wanda slowly pulled her long red silicone cock from in between your thighs and grabbed your hand to lead you. "We'll go slow. Just follow me." You nodded and slowly did follow Wanda.

No matter how close, your legs felt like jelly.

"What about Natasha?" You asked as you hit the first step. "You'll be seeing her soon," Wanda replied with a smirk you didn't see.

The same style used throughout the house continued into the bedroom, shared by the woman placing you on the soft bed and the woman somewhere else watching you through a camera.

It was cute, and it seemed to suit Wanda for the most part.

"That's Natasha's side," Wanda said as she came back to you from closing the bedroom door. You went to move, but Wanda stopped you. "Don't." Stern but gentle. You were picking up that that's how Wanda was. She was caring, giving, and someone who you could easily trust. But slowly, she showed you she can be strong, disciplined, and hard.

No pun intended.

"Scoot back a bit." You did as you were told and moved your ass away from the edge. Wanda sat down on the bed right next to you. You felt her soft legs brush up against your own, making you react. "You've been wonderful so far tonight, Y/N." Wanda's left hand started rubbing up and down your thigh. Your kegs spreading themselves open without being told. "See." Wanda brings her hand closer to your center. "You're so good. I know you can't wait to have my cock inside you, huh?" You rolled your head over to Wanda as your body begins to buckle as her hand brushes over your clit.

You have never been teased for this long.

"I can't wait, Mommy." You whine. Wanda smiles. "Thank you for being honest, baby." She leans into you and kisses your lips. Each kiss becomes shorter as your moans grow louder.

Wanda keeps her hand touching your wet folds, only stopping to grab your hand and place it on her cock. You freeze momentarily. "It's okay." Wanda breaths over your ear. "I just want to feel your hand jerk me off. Just for a bit, baby." Wanda kisses the side of your face and is happy when your hand slowly goes up and down her length. The action causing the inside of the strap to push up against Wanda's clit. "What's the safe word Y/N?"

"Mango."

Wanda hums. "Mommy is so proud of you." Wanda moans before her hand slips down, finally inserting two fingers inside you.

Through the camera in the corner, Natasha watches you moan the loudest you have all night. A smile on her face as the naked redhead flops her head back to her pillow as she works herself closer to another orgasm of the night. "Fuck her, Wanda. Make her your slut."

You continue pumping Wanda's cock as you feel yourself tighten around her fingers. You try not to, but you fall flat on your back as the pleasure is reaching its tipping point. "Oh god. You're so tight, Y/N! My cock is going to wreck that pretty pussy of yours!" Wanda is overjoyed at the sight of your body covered in sweat as her two fingers slide in and out of you. The faster and faster she goes, you shut your eyes tight as the pressure builds. You let out a vital moan as you feel the bed shift.

Wanda, getting up on her knees, moves her body closer to you. Your hand still on her cock lazily jerking her off as Wanda doesn't stop her assault on your pussy. "Is someone going to cum?" Wanda asks through ragged breaths as she's having just as much fun as you. Your mouth drops open, and you go to speak. But you just moan as your eyes roll back. "Going to cum for me, baby? Is my Y/N going to cum?" Wanda teases as her fingers curl inside of you. "Answer me." She demands but doesn't slow down.

"Ye-s! Momm- fuck!! I'm going to cu-mmm! I want cum so bad! Can I cum?!" The rest of the words get lost in your throat as Wanda pulls your legs back and has you spread so she can pump her fingers deeper into you. "You want to cum for me?" You rapidly nod as your brain goes dizzy. Wanda smiles as she runs her left hand through your hair before pulling the back of your head up. "Cum for Mommy!" That puts you over the edge. Your legs shake. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming. Oh my god! I'm cumming!"

Hearing your moans and pleas pushes Natasha to cum at the same time you do. A bliss-filled smile on her face as she removes her right hand from her center but keeps her left hand pressed on her throat until she's close enough to see stars.

She wonders if Wanda will do that to you tonight.

"That's it, baby." Wanda praises you as you come down from your high. Her fingers coated in you as she pulls out, making you whine at the loss. "It's okay," Wanda says, but when you look over, her eyes are on her hand. Not you. She also knows you're watching but doesn't pay you any attention as she slips her two Y/N-coated fingers into her mouth.

She moans and savors the taste of you.

She would never admit it, but you were almost more addicting than Natasha.

You tasted sweet, and Wanda wanted more. You watch her hand silently reach down to your spread pussy and slide the same two fingers between your folds. Careful not to brush past your clit.

She knew how sensitive it was at the moment.

You watch the finger shine in the bedroom's light before her tongue runs up the length of her middle finger before she finally looks at you. "Have you ever tasted yourself?" You shook your head. "No, Mommy." Wanda brings her fingers to you. "Open for me." You let your mouth drop open. Tongue flat as Wanda's fingers lay down on the pink bed. You close your lips and suck on her fingers.

A moan gets stuck in your throat.

You love the way you taste.

"I taste good, Mommy." Wanda smiles at you widely and nods. "Yes, you do, Y/N." She would like to think that she finger fucked you, dumb. Made you a submissive pet. To be hers. But Wanda doesn't know you.

She doesn't know how correct she'd be.

She doesn't know that you just had one of the best orgasms of what you're now realizing is a pretty bland, sex-filled life.

She doesn't know that something did happen when her fingers were inside of you. A switch got flicked on. Not only were you hers for tonight. But you wanted to be Wanda's for every night. You wanted more.

One app turned you into a dumb submissive little slut.

Your eyes dropped from Wanda's to see your hand was still on her fake cock. "Mommy?" You asked. "Yes." Wanda tilted her head with a smile. "I want more." You said, bringing your eyes up to hers. Both are blown out with lust. "I want your cock."

Wanda giggled, making it jump. "Where do you want my cock?"

Before you could answer, a cell phone started to ring. You knew it wasn't yours based on the ringtone and Wanda's reaction of looking in the corner at the camera. "Hold on." Wanda gently let go of your head and moved off the bed to her bedside table. Your lips curled into a smile as you watched her 7-inches jump with every step.

As Wanda picked the phone up, you looked over her body once more. You couldn't believe the natural beauty she had. Her body was yours to worship. Well, yours and "Natasha!" Wanda exclaimed purposefully.

You looked up at Wanda, holding her phone up.

FaceTime call, you thought.

You move your body slightly to lay more in the middle of the bed. Your head closer to the pillows than before. You try not to listen to Wanda and her wife's private conversation just in case it's important, but when "she's being such a good girl" gets said, you turn your head to Wanda, who is already looking at you. She winks at you, causing your stomach to flip and a giddy smile to appear on your face. "You missed her tasting herself?!" Wanda makes a gasping sound. "Tasha!"

"Give the phone to her Wands." Wandaobeys her wife, crawls onto the bed, and gives you the phone. On the screen is Natasha lying on a bed with her red hair sprawled out behind her. Her green eyes piercing you through the screen. She looks so fucking beautiful. More so than the photos on the hush. You see why her and Wanda are together.

It made a wave of jealousy wash over you before remembering the reason you were here.

You leaned up against the pillows as Natasha looked over your face. You quickly peered over the phone to see Wanda on her knees in front of your center. You smiled and wrapped your legs around her. Her mind getting the message, bringing her hands up and down your thighs. Just her touch was enough to make you hold in a moan.

"You've been doing so well, Y/N," Natasha told you. "Thank you." You shyly replied. "Don't be nervous just because I'm here now."

"You were always here," Wanda added, making Natasha wave her off. But only you could see it being in a smile to you. "Mommy says you taste sweet. Do you agree?" It'sthenthat you notice Natasha's right arm appears to be moving out of frame from the camera.

Natasha was fingering herself to you.

And she called Wanda Mommy.

"Yes, I do. Mommy's right." That made Natasha buck against herself, and you felt pride in making that happen. But your face of pride quickly disappeared when you felt Wanda's cock rub up and down your wet pussy. The tip sliding across your clit. Her movement growing faster. "Wand-mommy!" You moaned.

"Daddy just wants to see you taste yourself."

Daddy? But before you could question what you already knew, Wanda accidentally pushed half the length of the cock into you. Making you scream in pleasure because you and your pussy needed it.

You held tight to the phone as Wanda didn't give you time to adjust to the size before she started pulling back out of you. Your body practically going limp as you tried your best to remain strong for Mommy. And Daddy. "Take it, Y/N. It's okay. It's okay!" Your eyes focused back to Natasha as she wore a smirk. You nodded and saw Wanda smile.

"Come here." Wanda pulled out of you and reached down to place her hands on your arms. "Trust me, baby." She spoke softly as she started pulling you onto your black, tight, covered knees. You didn't realize that she grabbed the phone away from you in the process.

Wanda held onto you as she moved to the edge of the bed. She slid off to stand straight up but kept you on it. That's when you realized. With an arch of the back and on your knees, you were face to face with Wanda's cock. The very same that's covered in you.

"Go ahead." You looked up to see Wanda and the phone looking down at you. "See how you taste on Mommy's cock." Daddy said. "I-" You started to speak but stopped. Feeling a little embarrassed. "Have you never-" Wanda started but stopped when you spoke over her. "No, I have! It's just been a long time." Wanda's eyes soften. "I'll be gentle. Remember the safe word?" You nodded. "Mango."

"That's right, baby. Mommy will take good care of you. This is just for Daddy. Okay?" You nodded once again. "Okay."

"She's so good for you," Natasha said to Wanda as you got closer to her cock.

Just like with Wanda's fingers earlier, the fake cock showed how wet you had gotten it in the light of Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. You looked up to Wanda and Natasha. The former gives you an encouraging smile.

You reached your hand out to the cock and began stroking it before bringing your mouth to the base. With your tongue flat against it, you licked up from the bottom to the top. The ridges and feeling of it made you smile as the taste of your own wet pussy landed in your mouth. "Oh god." You heard Daddy moan.

You repeated the process again and again to ease yourself into the act. Soon enough, the tip of the cock was entering your mouth. "Let me know when it's okay for me to move Y/N." You looked up to Wanda and nodded as you pushed another inch into your mouth. Thankful for Wanda choosing now to be extremely kind.

You pulled your mouth off the cock and let a string of salvia fall to your chin. Wanda's hand was quick to wipe it away. "You're doing so good. Daddy is proud of you." You smiled widely and started stroking the cock faster as your mouth sank lower onto it. You gagged, of course, but that didn't stop you. You simply swallowed and kept pumping Wanda's cock into your mouth. Your tongue running up and down it as the cock felt good against your soft lips.

When you reached the halfway point, Wanda placed a hand on your head and started to move her hips.

"Mommy's getting a little restless, Y/N."

With the cock still in your mouth and tears welding in your eyes, you looked up to see Wanda with her head thrown back, pushing the cocking further into you. "Oh fuck." Wanda exclaimed, making you moan at the sight before gagging again. "Baby, it feels so good on my clit. Oh my god!" Wanda moaned as the vibrations from your gag had her hands tighten in your hair. "Don't stop, Y/N!"

You weren't going to. If Wanda was going to cum you wanted to be the one to do it.

Determined, you brought a hand up and placed it on the back of Wanda's thigh, pushing her more into you. The cock sliding down your throat. "Oh baby, you're such a fucking slut!" Daddy spoke through her own moans as she watched her wife fuck your mouth. Wanda nodded in agreement and started pushing your head onto the strap.

The sounds of the wet cock, your gags, and the three of you moaning being the only thing to fill the room.

You made sure to push the base of the strap with every jerk you gave it, so it made Wanda buckle. Her moans and breaths becoming inconsistent. "Keep going, Y/N! Make her cum! Make Mommy cum!" You could hear Natasha's fingers rapidly fucking her pussy. You swirled your tongue around the shaft and moaned one last time before you pulled your head back. Letting the cock slide down your tongue out of your mouth. Coating your chin and chest as salvia dripped off of it.

You swallowed what you had left in your mouth and brought your hands up to Wanda's strap. You began to jerk it off, staring straight up at the camera. "Daddy, I want you to cum too. I want you to cum for me. I want you and Mommy to cum all over me." You acted like a slut for the two of them.

Natasha knew it couldn't happen, but goddamn if she wouldn't shoot loads all over that pretty face of yours.

Meanwhile, Wanda had her eyes on you again. Blown out and fully aware of the orgasm she was about to have. The center of the strap pushing back into her pussy and clit was enough to take her to the edge. But you. You on the bed, jerking her off.

That's what made her cum. Her green eyes looking into you. "Don't stop, baby. Don't stop, Y/N! Oh my God. Oh-ooh, my God!!!" Wanda gripped your hair harder than ever before as her eyes rolled back. Fingers holding your skull still.

The inside of the hardness ruined as she came.

At the same time, hearing her wife moan your name. Moan for you. Natasha came. Natasha came for you.

You sat on the bed as Wanda held you still. You were in awe as you watched Wanda start to come down from her climax. Her body was now in a glow of sweat that made her look sexier than ever. The grips on you loosened. For a split second, you swear you saw her green eyes turn red. But when she looked in your direction, you saw how soft they were. She smiled. You smiled back and got up on your knees. You grabbed the phone as it was about to slip from Wanda's hand. When you looked, you saw Natasha still recovering. "You did so good." You said to both of them, but mainly Wanda, in a hushed tone before pulling her close to you, and with Natasha watching, you kissed her wife on the lips.

She responded by pushing her lips into yours and putting her hands on your body to steady herself from almost falling.

Jelly legs and all.

"Let's get me out of this." You nodded and giggled as she did, too. With help from Natasha on the other end of the phone propped up on her bedside table, the harness finally fell to the floor.

Wanda sat back down on the bed and pulled your body in between her legs. With you still in your heels, her face was at eye level with your stomach. Her hands placed themselves on your ass, moving them up and down as her pink lips started kissing your stomach.

You blushed hard as not everything about tonight was new, but this was. This was intimate and special. And you couldn't do anything but love it. Your cheeks became more pink as you grew wetter with each kiss and lick Wanda's mouth left on you. Your hands placed themselves on her head. This time, it was your turn to run your hands through her hair.

You moved back a bit, but to place a kiss on top of Wanda's head, this made the older woman look up at you.

She reached up and pulled your chin down. A gentle kiss placed on your lips. "Come here." She whispered as your body fell onto the bed with hers.

Legs quickly become intertwined as her arms wrap around you. Her mouth immediately attaches to your collarbone as your breath moans into her ear. "Thank you." She moans as your hands grab onto her sides. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N."

You shake your head and kiss her forehead, making her look up at you before you kissed her face and lips. You never want to stop doing that. "No, Wanda.. thank you and Natasha."

You looked into each other's eyes. You realized another thing about tonight right then and there. A one-night stand or a relationship never made you feel how you felt in this moment.

Wanda had only ever felt this way about one person before.

Natasha watched the two of you and smiled. She succeeded in her mission for her wife to have a night like tonight.

Come morning, that app would be off your phone, and there would be no need for Natasha to ever use it for you again—and Vice versa.

Natasha watched you lean down and kiss Wanda's collarbone. Slowly working your way to her chest, kissing over her little moles and freckles. Wanda smiled and moaned at certain spots. "Y/N?" She said, looking down at you. "Yes?"

"I want you to take off your heels and tights."

You looked down and back up. "Are you sure?" Wanda nodded, yet you still looked at the phone for Natasha's confirmation. "Do what she says, detka." You sat up on the bed as the two watched you.

"What does detka mean?" You asked as you placed the right heel down. Wanda took the question. "It means baby, honey, sweetie. It's a term of endearment." You made an "ah" noise and took off your tights. "Any other questions?" Wanda teased.

That made a lightbulb go off. "Yeah..." You briefly looked at Natasha, who looked sleepy (probably due to the 4 orgasms she had) before looking at Wanda. "Nat- Daddy made me wear peach-colored lipstick. Why?" You were now fully nude for the first time tonight, making you feel free and closer to Wanda.

Just like she wanted.

You got on your knees and crawled your way up to the bed before flopping back down into the position you were in earlier. Your legs intertwined with Wanda. Arms around one another. Face to face. Wanda kissed you. "That's a good question." She laughed. "You see... before Natasha and I said the I Do's. We were more open.. kinda like this.." Wanda rubbed her hand up and down your back. "Natasha would bring home pets, toys, and pretty girls like you." Wanda smiled at the memory. But her eyes focused back on you. "And do you know what they always wore?"

"Peach." You responded to Wanda's praise.

"But don't worry, Y/N." Wanda pushed her head closer to you. To lay it on your shoulder. "None of them were ever like you." She kissed your shoulder. You kissed her head.

You two sat in silence for a moment before Wanda disrupted it. "I want to cum one more time." She spoke in a hushed tone. You nodded. "Okay." You replied because you would be stupid not to.

Wanda untangled herself from you and looked back at Natasha and the phone. Only to see her wife passed out. Wanda let out a small chuckle before moving Natasha to the phone charge. Keeping the call active.

Wanda lays back down and motions you over. Her pearly white show themselves as you place your legs over her. Half your body on her—half on the bed.

You begin to kiss Wanda as softly as possible. Almost as slowly as you are soft, you drag your hand across her skin. You feel the goosebumps your breath against her face sends across her body. Wanda moans another kiss into your lips as her hand places itself around your wrist, directing you to feel how wet she is. "It's for you." She says into your ear before shrieking because of the bite you place on her. It didn't hurt her. It was just surprising.

Truth be told, you just wanted to leave a mark.

But the mark you would leave behind isn't one that's visible.

You moan into Wanda as you slip your fingers inside her for the first time tonight. "You're so tight." Wanda whimpers as you don't slow. "Please keep going!" You push her one leg to the side with your knee so she can spread her pussy for you more. "Right there! Right there!"

Wanda wraps her arms around and holds on as you curl your fingers, hitting her spot. "Don't stop. Oh my god! Y/N Please Don't!" Wanda's mouth drops before slamming shut as the point is approaching. "You wanna cum?" You ask as you stare at her with her eyes closed shut. "Wanda wants to cum?"

This was your first time in the bedroom calling her Wanda.

She opens her eyes, shocked, but her face is flushed and red. Contorting as she is close. "Yes Y/N! Please let me cum!" She looks at you, pleading. "Moan into me as you cum. You can cum baby. Okay? Cum for me, Wanda. It's okay!" You and Wanda crash your lips into one another as she tightens around you. She smacks your thumb away from clit as she cums. Your fingers become coated in her, and you feel like you've just won the lottery. "That's it. That's it! Ride it out." You coax her and leave a trail of kisses across her forehead.

Her tight hold that her arms have around you loosens. Delicately, you pull your fingers out of her. Wanda winces and sighs at the loss of you. But is overjoyed with what just happened.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" You ask, half teasing, half not. "I have." You bring your fingers closer to your mouth, but Wanda's hand grabs your wrist. "But not from you." Before you can protest, your fingers are in her mouth. Her tongue runs over and in between your two fingers. Moaning at the taste. Because of you.

Wanda pulls your fingers out quicker than you'd like. "Well?" You ask, but instead of an answer, Wanda leans into you and puts a hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as she French kisses a mixture of you and her into your mouth. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as you taste Wanda. Both of your moans are muffled in each other's mouths. You continue to make out with one another.

Eventually, you two swallow and come up for air but find each other still in the same position even after silence, and your lingering touches are the only thing.

"Wanda..." You open and close your mouth. Unsure of what to say.

You look down at Wanda, whose head has fallen onto your arm, and see her with her eyes closed. Her breathing slow. She's fallen asleep. You peer over to the plugged-in phone and see Natasha the exact same as before. You don't want to disturb Wanda, and as much as you want to stay and help clean up. She's asleep, and she's not yours. Tonight, you were her's.

But tomorrow, she would not be yours.

Plus, as much as you'd want to have... this... be your life. You can't. Natasha paid you to do a job, and you did it...

With a heavy heart, you begin to untangle and move Wanda. It's not easy at first. It's like once she falls asleep, she has dumbbells attached to her. But eventually, you move and place her in a more comfortable position.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the bed and pick up your heels and tights. You look for your dress before remembering its in the kitchen downstairs. You make your way to the door of the bedroom and unlock it. Opening it, surprised to find out it doesn't creak like every door in every house you've ever had. "Huh." You open it wider and look back just in time to see Wanda crinkle her nose in her sleep and flop onto her side. You smile at her cuteness and pull the light switches down.

Yeah, they have that kind.

You close the door, but just before it closes, you take one last look at her figure lying on the bed, next to it on the table Natasha. You both give them a smile and shut the door.

Lucky for you, Wanda didn't turn out the kitchen lights, so instead of stumbling around in the dark, you find your dress on the floor easily. After tossing it into your hands, you begin to locate your phone. But for the love of God, you can't recall where you had it.

Your heels click as you walk from one side of the house to the other- "Y/N?!" You scream, jump, and almost break your ankles because of the voice from behind you. "Wanda!" You exclaim as you come down from your fright.

"What are you doing?" Wanda asks as she rubs sleep out of her eyes. "Me?! What about you? You're supposed to be sleeping?!" Wanda looks you over with a frown on her face; she says: "Are you leaving?"

The way she says those three words made you look at her like you just broke her heart. "Wanda-" She shakes her head and steps off the last step in the stairs. "Don't leave." She walks up to you and takes your hand in hers. Ignoring the guilty look on your face. "Come on." She starts to pull you, making you stumble before you stop and remove your hand free. "Wanda, stop!"

The Sokovian turns around and looks at you with hurt written on her. "I don't want you to leave," Wanda speaks up. You go to open your mouth and fight that you have to. That you can't stay. You would tell her that tonight was one of the best nights you have had in a long time. You'd say that feelings are bubbling under the surface after one night with you and Natasha, so imagine what would happen if you stayed. You want to say that this was a job, and that's it.

In another life, you do those things.

In another life, it works out. In some, it doesn't.

But here. In this one. You look at Wanda and drop your dress, tights, and heels on the floor.

"Till morning."

"Till morning." She repeats.

That night, you fell asleep with your arms wrapped around Wanda Maximoff.

In the morning, when Natasha Romanoff arrives. She smiles to see that the cameras were right. You never left.

In case it wasn't obvious. Natasha wanted to keep you around. For her and Wanda. So when she opened the bedroom door to confirm that yes, you were still here. Cuddled up with her wife, Wanda. Natasha widely smiled.

"Moya Lyubov," Natasha whispered as she sat on the edge of the bedroom next to her sleeping wife. She brushed hair that had fallen onto her face. But it was no use. Wanda was a dead weight when she slept.

That you didn't know. Which is why it's a wonder how or why Wanda woke up when you were trying to leave last night.

But you woke up when you heard whispering. When your eyes peeled open, you smiled before remembering that you weren't supposed to stay over. But Natasha must've sensed or seen the panic on your face. "It's okay. I'm glad this happened. I wanted it, too." Natasha spoke as her eyes went from Wanda to you.

Natasha sat there as she just looked at you and Wanda. "So now what?" You quietly asked, unsure of what to do. "Now.. this..." Natasha gestures to the three of you. "Transaction is done." She smiles, hurting you. "Oh." You take a breath. "Okay." You go to move, but Natasha stops you.

"This one is done." She says with a smirk that you pick up on. "Oh.. okay." You say again but with a smile, making Natasha laugh. "But you'll have to use the app every time." But Natasha just shook her head.

You never used that app again after the first night.

After one week, Natasha and Wanda stopped paying you. After one month, you had two girlfriends. After three months, their home became your home.

So yeah, Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck at some point in life.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

But that's where you came in.

Happily married to both.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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linkspooky · 4 months

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Art credit: @/charscounterattack reposted with permission.

INVINCIBLE VS. MY HERO ACADEMIA: WHEN HEROES KILL

Whether or not heroes should kill people is a hotly debated topic in comics.

There are people who think heroes should never kill, and others who think heroes should kill more. One of the most famous comic book storylines "Under the Red Hood" has Red Hood / Jason Todd debate whether or not it was ethical for Bruce to keep letting the joker live even after the Joker killed Jaso, especially after the Joker killed Jason. If killing the Joker earlier to prevent all future deaths would have been justified. There are like a hundred DC Aus that are like "What if Batman and Superman just started killing people?"

In order to explore this question I'm going to explore two situations in different comics, Invincible and My Hero Academia when the hero, a very idealistic young hero kills someone for the first time.

LET HORI COOK

Storytelling, especially for serialized storytelling which comes out week by week instead of all at once works on the premise of drawing people in by promising that certain future developments and plot points are going to happen. Stories are all about creating expectations, building them, and then paying them off.

Here's an example: The Dabi is a Todoroki theory has existed pretty much since the training camp arc. Horikoshi wasn't in your face about the hints about Toya, but there was just enough hints to make the theory seem more and more plausible. Toya having the same fire quirk as Shoto / Endeavor. Toya mentioning both of them by name. Shoto's two other siblings getting revealed but not Toya. Toya saying that Hawks should have paid attention to him most of all. All of these little pieces came together until Toya finally revealed his identity on live TV in front of both Shoto and Endeavor.

This worked because not only did it give the audience just enough clues that they felt smart for figuring it out, and get invested in the idea of Toya as a Todoroki, it also was well-paced so it didn't seem like Horikoshi forgot about it unlike the traitor plot which went hundreds of chapters without being mentioned. If Toya was revealed to be a Todoroki at the training camp arc with no buildup, it wouldn't be as effective bcause we didn't have years of waiting and theorizing. If Todoroki was revealed to be some guy named Steve after all the hints, it also wouldn't be an effective reveal because there were hints dropped for Toya Todoroki, but there were no Steve hints so it'd feel like the author lied to us.

Themes are like this too. I tend to explain story themes by oversimplifying it as "Question, and answer." The story asks a question, it provides us an answer, and we can come up with our own answer as well. However, there's a middle part I'm skipping out on which is deliberation. Before you can come up with an answer, you obviously need to deliberate it, either by presenting arguments for or against, hearing outside opinions or just thinking things through.

In other words, you need to "Let things cook."

If Toya calling Shoto by his full name at the Training Camp Arc is when we're first asked "Is Toya a Todoroki?" or when the theories first started, then the long middle period between Training Camp Arc and the First War Arc is the deliberation. This is when the story not only added more hints to the idea that Toya was a Todoroki, but also set up why that reveal mattered. Endeavor wanted to atone for his past sins, but one of his victims was no longer alive. Endeavor begins to move on anyway and think he's finally made himself a good hero, but now Toya appears to flip up the reverse Uno Card.

So let's follow this basic formula, for how ideas get developed in My Hero Academia and just any good story.

Question / Introduction

Deliberation

Answer / Conclusion

My Hero Academia and Invincible explore similar themes in regards to heroism, generational trauma and how to be better than the previous generation in both Mark and Deku. I'm going to streamline their arcs down to one basic question for the sake of time. For both the question is:

Can I be a better hero than my Dad?

Deku and Mark might be two characters who cannot possibly seem to be more different, but you can actually list off a lot of similarities between them right away. Deku and Mark are both people who in a world oversaturated with superheroes spent most of their childhoods with no superpowers at all. Also, they were genetically supposed to inherit a quirk / viltrumite powers, but Deku was born quirkless, and Mark was an extremely late bloomer. They are also people who while being powerless civilians for most of their lives worship heroes. Deku collects so much All Might Merch he even stole some from Nighteye after he died, Mark attends comic conventions even after he becomes a superhero.

They also grew up worshipping one hero in particular who was essentially earth's strongest hero, for Mark it was his dad Omni-Man, for Deku it was All Might. They also both get the opportunity to train directly under their favorite hero immediately after they get their powers. At first this makes it seem like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. All Mark has ever wanted was to be a hero like his dad and make his father proud. Not only did Deku just want one person to tell him he could be a hero too even without a quirk, but his very idea of heroism is built around seeing All Might always save people with a smile.

However, both of them suddenly hit complication just when it seems like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. They are both confronted with the fact that their heroes are not who they expected them to be. They are overly idealistic heroes who have been dreaming of being heroes since childhood only to be hit with a much greyer reality. To the point where there innocence becomes a flaw in and of itself. The way they've been coddled and protected all of their lives leaves them completely unaware and unable to spot the grey areas in the world, or the people around them.

For Deku the moral greys exist in the villains around them. In MHA Society, villains are basically just bad guys in suits for the heroes to punch on television. They're seen as a faceless enemy, and there's very little in way of rehabilitation for villains once they're captured. Deku lived in a very black and white world before this point, and he's suddenly presented with the idea that his villains could be morally grey.

Deku's image of All Might is a hero who saves everyone with a smile, so he could never imagine that there are people who All Might has failed to save. He's never stopped to consider where villains came from, or if any of them might have legitimate reasons for their grievances.

This becomes a pretty central theme in MHA. It's first brought up here when Shigaraki talks about All Might acting as if there's no one he can't save. Twice brings it up again in his first backstory chapter, that the heroes only save the virtuous ones.

This is further enforced in the same overhaul arc with members who are loyal to Overhaul because they are society's trash who would have been thrown out otherwise. There is a group of people fiercley loyal to Overhaul who is a terrible boss, because he is the only person who would accept them.

edits belong to @stillness-in-green from bring it all back a tone poem on returning to staus quo located here on ao3.

In the War Arc this long running theme basically reaches a climax with the Hawks and Twice confrontation, where Hawks decides to try to offer Jin a chance to restart because he's deemed him "good" but he won't extend the same helping hand to the league who Hawks has determined as "bad." He then asks Jin to betray his friends in order to be saved, something that Jin rightfully calls out.

That Hawks only wants to save Jin because he's one of the good ones, and he's written off the rest of the league and left them for dead. Hawks choosing to divide between good and bad victims ad only save the one he personally thought was worthy of redemption, makes it impossible for him to save Twice who would never under any circumstances give up on the rest of the league.

Twice's death is a tragedy, but it also presents us a clear example of the failures of the previous generation. Even a hero who sincerely sympathized with a villain and wanted to help them start over wasn't able to help them because of this attitude of selectively picking and choosing who to save. If the heroes only save the innocent the I guess the lives of the guilty are worth less.

This is the questio Toga poses to Ochako, if the heroes killed Twice then are you going to kill me in order to stop me. This is the central subject of Shigaraki's speech to the heroes. That heroes and villains will never uderstand each other, because the entire hero system perpetuates itself on ignoring the needs of societal outcasts and rejects in form of the "innocent people" and those outcasts who aren't having their needs met eventually turn into villains who get systematically put down by heroes. Heroes and villains are incapable of understanding each other and breaking the cycle, because the entire system isn't built on helping people, but merely maintaining the idea that heroes are perfect, faultless saviors so normal people will feel secure, while the people the heroes have failed get swept under the rug so society can keep "functioning."

"You heroes hurt your own families just to help strangers. You heroes pretend to be society's guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn't protect. That means your system's all rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up, little by little, over time. You've got the common trash, all too dependent on being protected, and the brave guardians who created the trash that needed coddling. It's a corrupt, vicious, cycle. Everythig I've witnessed, the whole system you've built has always rejected me. Now I'm ready to reject it. That's why I destroy. That's why I took power for myself. Simple enough, Yeah? I don't care if you don't understand. That's what makes us heroes and villains."

So if the starting question is: Can I be a better hero than my dad?

Then everything I've detailed above is deliberation. Here we have, ever since the training camp arc, this slowly built up idea of why All Might was a flawed hero in the end.

Mark has to face the fact that his father is a more morally grey person than he could ever imagine, whereas Deku has to face the fact that the villains are more morally grey in his world, and that makes the heroes look more flawed in comparison as well. The deliberation is all slowly bringing Deku to think over what Shigaraki asked him all the way in the beginning in there first meeting.

Were there ever people that the heroes couldn't save? If so then what are you supposed to do with the victims you can't save after they grow up? This is when Deku begins to start forming his own answer.

Deku hears the advice of both the other OFA users, and The Stinky Old Man (Gran Torino) that killing Shigaraki is the best option, but wants to explore other options.

Scenes like this clearly telegraph what the answer / conclusion Hori is leading us to to be. The same way that Toya is a Todoroki is foreshadowed long in advance, statements like "All for one is a power meant for saving, not killing" clearly set up Deku's Endgame. Deku's end goal is to find a way use his power to save Shigaraki rather than killing him. Everything else is just a matter of deliberation, Deku knows what his edgoal is but the chapters between then and the end of the manga is Deku having to figure out how exactly to save Shigaraki without killing him.

You Heroes Hurt Your Own Families Just to Help Strangers

Invincible is the story of Mark Grayson, the son of Omni Man / Nolan Grayson. He's been told all of his life that his father is a viltrumite, a race of benevolent aliens who send out people like Nolan to alien civilizations in order to uplift their entire civilization. Which is what led Nolan to come to earth and become Earth's greatest heroes.

This turns out to be a big fat lie when within 12 chapters Nolan not only slaughters the guardian's of the globe, but also has a confrontation with his son.

Mark has wanted to be just like his dad his entire life. Only to be slapped in the face with the realization he's known nothing about his dad his entire life, shown rather brilliantly by these panels where Nolan tries to have a normal father / son conversation with Mark while covered in blood.

Nolan isn't from a futuristic utopia but from a brutal, fascist space empire. He didn't come to earth to help bring it up, but to weaken its defenses and make it prime for conquering. He didn't have Mark out of love, but to produce another soldier for the viltrumite empire.

Mark's entire schtick is that he's invincible, but he's so inexperienced as a hero that he gets beat up constantly despite the fact he has the strongest power set in the series b/c he has viltrumite powers. However, not only does the series introduce moral greys by continually showing how Mark even with the best power set in the series constantly gets his ass kicked, it also challenges Mark's black and white thinking and hero worship of his father by showing him the kind of man his father really is.

Mark has wanted to be exactly like his father his entire life, but now that's suddenly a bad thing. His father is a morally reprehensible person and Mark is now a descendant of an alien race meant to conquer worlds. Not only is Mark confronted by who his father really is, but now everyone in Mark's life judges him by comparing him with his father.

Mark has to work with Cecil and be his on-call Superhero, both to be able to pay for college, and also to prove that he's not his dad. The unspoken part of the agreement is that Cecil gets to keep a leash on Mark and Mark has to prove that he'll never turn out like his father to earn Cecil's trust.

Cecil is automatically suspicious of him because if Mark were to turn evil, the planet would have no defenses against him just like it didn't have any for Omni Man. Mark's mother starts to drink and blames Mark for Omni-Man leaving in a drunken moment of weakness because of how much the information that Omni Man only regarded her as a pet affected her.

The comic even shows us that in most alternate universes, mark actually did make the decision to join his father's conquest, and this universe is one of the few exceptions. This is also where we're introduced to a major reoccuring antagonist in the comics, and also the main antagonist / final antagonist of season 2 of the cartoon Angstrom Levy.

Levy is someone who can jump between dimensions and has traveled to almost all of them collecting his alternate selves. He has witnessed for a fact that in most universes Mark sides with his father instead of fighting against him.

Levy enlists the clone bros to build a device that would combine the knowledge of his alternate selves into one individual. This device ends up breaking tragically (partially mark's fault, but levy himself made the decision to stop the machine in order to stop the clone bros from killing Mark). Levy's memories become confused as a result of the machine malfunctioning, and he can't tell the difference between himself and his alternate universe counterparts. This means that Levy now remembers several alternate universes where Mark did turn evil, and remembers them as if they happened to him.

It's better elaborated upon in this post:

The process by which Invincible has had to condense and consolidate the plot beats of the original comic, coupled with the opportunity it's granted the writers to tighten up and emphasize its themes on a second pass, has resulted in a newfound appreciation for how unbelievably fucking good Angstrom Levy's whole character concept is. What's that, Mark? Your main emotional crisis this season is your fear of turning out like your father? Here, have an archnemesis who's out to kill you because his memories were inadvertently overwritten with the lived experiences of hundreds of alternate versions of himself whose friends and families were slaughtered in worlds where you did, in fact, turn out exactly like your father. Because it turns out that that is in fact the multiversal norm. That you turn out like your father. And now you're left to wonder what set of arbitrary coinflips pulled you back from that abyss in this dimension, and whether your luck is going to continue to hold into the future.

Mark is not only hit with the revelation that his father isn't as good as he thought he was, but also while he's in a crisis about about whether or not he will turn out like his father, he learns the answer is yes, in several dimensions he turns out exactly like his father.

In My Hero Academia there are families like the Todoroki's who balance the difference between a hero's obligations to society, and a hero's obligation to society. However, that's a side plot where I'd argue that the main plot for Invincible and it's main focus is what Mark owes to the world as a hero, and what Mark owes to his family.

It's not just that Omniman is trying to invade earth for the Viltrumite empire. It's not just that he failed as a hero, but that he failed as a father. What makes Mark snap, is hearing Omniman call Debbie a pet. Until that point Mark was in denial and still trying to reason with his father.

Invincible is about two intersecting themes: Is Mark obligated to use his incredible powers to help make the world better? Can Mark be a good hero and a good family man?

While MHA has more far reaching societal implications in its themes and questions, Invincible is more specifically about the Grayson Family. It's generational trauma on a society level, vs generational trauma on an individual level. The way Nolan was raised on Viltrumite effects how he raised Mark causing their conflict, and Mark's conflict with his father effects most of his young adulthood when he's trying to figure out what person he wants to be (read: not his dad), but also the way he parents his daughter with Atom Eve.

Omni-man failed Mark as both a hero, and a father. Mark feels the need to overcompensate for what his father did the world and all those innocent people by acting as Cecil's lapdog and doing whatever Cecil tells him.

However, Mark is much more hurt by the personal betrayal than he lets on. It's not just that his father killed a bunch of innocent people, it's also that Mark's father failed as a father, abandoning both him and mom and choosing to be a viltrumite rather than being Mark's father. Mark's stated reason for wanting to be a hero post the omni-man reveal is to prove he's not like his dad to the world, and also make up for the innocent lives he failed to save. However, his unstated underlying reason is Mark is hurt and betrayed his father didn't put his family first, and this causes Mark to always put his family first.

This leads to two insecurities / narrative flaws. One, Mark is insecure about becoming like his father so he tries to prove he's nothing like him by being the most selfless, perfect hero possible. Two, Mark is hurt by being abandoned by his father and doesn't want to become a deadbeat like Nolan so he gets extremely overprotective of his own family.

These two things are obvious in conflict with one another: A hero has an obligation to the common good which sometimes means sacrificing time with your loved ones. However, being a good family man requires a level of selfishness that directly contradicts the selfless hero that Mark is pushing himself to be. In the comic the way Mark prioritizes his family and loved ones over the common good and justice is made even more obvious. His first instinct on seeing Omni-Man again isn't to call him out for being an awful father, but to hug him and ask him to come home. Mark is a distraught son first, and a hero second.

Mark has two flaws, his fear of being like his father makes him try too hard to be a perfect hero, and his trauma over losing his father makes him prioritize his family over being a hero. It's very much a having your cake and eating it too situation, oftentimes heroes make huge sacrifices for their personal lives in order to be heroes, that's basically a theme discussed in the comic with Nolan being absent for a lot of Mark's childhood, and why Mark's relationship with Amber fails.

The show also introduces us to the idea that Mark is so afraid of becoming like his father that he deliberately holds back his punches. Which is good when he's fighting earth villains, but bad when he's facing viltrumites who can only survive being disemboweled, but will also come to wipe out all life on earth if they're allowed to live. In the show it's directly mentioned that Mark is holding back, in the comic it's implied when we see how helpless Mark is in the fight against other viltrumites. Mark lacks the resolve to kill someone and when fighting a viltrumite, failing to put them down can have consequences because they are galactic conquerors who will not show you any mercy.

This all comes to a head in the Angstrom Levy fight where Mark makes his first kill on-screen when beforehand he'd never fought to kill before, and even held back against galaxy conquering aliens who were out to murder him and his dad.

However. before we begin that.

Should superheroes kill?

People often act like whether or not super heroes should kill their villains is a black and white topic, where it actually depends highly on context.

Batman’s an entire character is written around how he wants to redeem Gotham and save the city, most of his villains aren’t even sent to prison they’re sent to Arkham a facility that’s supposed to rehabilitee the mentally ill so they can rejoin society. Batman has decided it’s his place to stop crime, not his place to decide whether or not people have the right to live or redeem themselves.

Batman is also at risk for being just like his villains, that’s why he’s foils with Harvey Dent, someone who tried to prosecute people under the law who then snapped and went full violent mobster vigilante. Batman actually is at risk for walking the same path as Harvey if he decides murder is an option.

In X-Men 97, there was a character known as Rogue who dropped Simon Bolivar Trask off of a building in an act of vigilante justice. This action makes sense in context for several reasons. One Rogue was raised by Mystique and Destiny, is a former member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, and began as a terrorist in the comics. She's not really a "moral highground" character like Batman. Two, Boliver Trask built a giant killer robot that resulted in the deaths of millions in Genosha which Rogue is a survivor of. Number three, Trask had no sympathetic reasons for building the genocide robot, he built the sentinels out of bigotry to wipe out mutants. He's not a victim in any way, he's an oppressor facing consequences for his actions.

Batman shooting Harvey Dent, his former best friend, a victim of severe mental illness and trauma that still has hope for recovery, and Rogue dropping the guy who made a genocide robot off of a building are both wildly different situations.

So in the context of MHA we have Shigaraki Tomura, a terrorist who's goal is to destroy japan enough that it will dismantle the hero system for good. Shigaraki Tomura is a ten year old child who lost control of his quirk and killed his family for mistake, he wandered for days in crowded city streets but not a single hero stopped to help him, then he was found by the main villain of the story and groomed for ten years into becoming his successor. Shigaraki is also surrounded by a group of societal outcasts who were failed by society in similiar ways, so Shigaraki knows he wasn't the only one failed by hero society and he starts to wage his war for their sake as much as his own.

In Invincible we have Angstrom Levy. Angstrom is not plotting mass murder the way that Shigaraki is. He is specifically only targetting Mark Grayson's family for revenge (at least the first time he showed up, the second time during the invincible war arc was different). Angstrom's revenge against Mark Grayson is misplaced, but to be fair the accident messed with his brain hardcore and he doesn't remember clearly what happened. He doesn't remember that he's the one who decided to stop the machine in order to help Mark. It's tragic. Angstrom also has the memories of like hundreds of different universes of evil Marks. Even though he's the victim of a tragic accident, he's also a victimizer in that he doesn't choose to just go after Mark, he deliberately picks Mark's family, his mother, and his infant little brother as a way of hurting Mark.

So both of these characters blur the line between villain and victim, but neither of them are like Trask in that they have no sympathetic motivation whatsoever. Shigaraki's actions don't come from bigotry, and he's not an oppressor. Trask was actually trying to do something good before his machine broke and his brains got scrambled, and now he wants personal revenge and to blame all his problems on Mark which is petty yes, but not on Trask's level of heartlessness.

So, there's a case that can be made here for both of them that there's room to save them. After all Mark and Deku aren't killers to begin with. Mark especially has an incredibly vested interest in not becoming a killer. Even if they don't explicitly go out of their way to save and redeem these two people, we're still at this point expecting the heroes to at least take down these two sympathetic figures non-lethally. Mark doesn't want to be like his dad and Deku has said explicitly he wants to save Shigaraki, and that OFA is a power for saving and not killing.

Also to sidestep this argument before people comment on my post with it.

What do you expect the heroes to just let a mass murderer live?

YES!

It happens in comics literally all the time.

Magneto, Wolverine, Jean Grey / Phoenix, Emma Scott, heck, OMNIMAN himself, all characters who have killed lots of people and all characters who get to live and even be on the heroes side. Of these three Jean Grey of all people has the highest body count.

Shonen Jump also has Vegeta. Have you ever heard of Vegeta? Most popular Shonen Rival of all time? Omni-man and Viltrumites are basically just Saiyans.

In real life they wouldn't let a mass murderer walk away but comics are not the same as real life. That's why characters are always punching dinosaurs all the time. Fun fact, if you were to try to punch a dinosaur in real life it would probably hurt your hand. I would advise against it. Dinosaurs are for the most part much stronger than human beings.

As I outlined above Shigaraki and Angstrom are different characters than Trask. They might all be murderers, but the first two have sympathetic elements and are humanized, they are victims of oppression (Angstrom's been killed by viltrumites in a whole bunch of worlds) whereas Trask is an oppressor.

So for both of these stories we are not expecting to see Deku and Mark kill their final villains (for the series and for this season). Deku because he's spent the final third of the series trying to work out a way to save the villains, and Mark because he doesn't want to turn out to be a violent murderer like his father so he's trying to be the most selfless, most perfect hero ever.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE STRONGER

So we finally reach the scenes in question and I thought I'd compare them without much commentary, just highlighting what happens without adding much spin.

So the final episode of Invincible Season 2 and Issue #33 of the comic is where Angstrom and Mark have it out. Angstrom appears in Mark's home and threatens his family. he brings up the comparison between Mark and his father right away. This is also something Angstrom has seen first hand by traveling to multiple universes where Mark has sided with his father.

In the cartoon he's a lot more confused because he's constantly remembering other universe's memories as if he were his own so he genuinely thinks he's taking down an evil viltrumite, in the comic he's being more petty and blaming Mark for his deformity (I think he doesn't remember that he was the one to take the helmet off by choice). In both versions he uses Mark's family as hostages to keep him from fighting back as he tries to send Markk to his death in several different realities.

Angstrom then ups the threat of violence from holding them hostage to threatening to kill them. In both the show and comic he brutally breaks Debbie's arm. Mark is sent through several more realities, only to discover that Debbie's arm is broken and lose his temper.

Mark and Angstrom's fist fight comes to an end, and while Mark has him on the ground he keeps hitting and hitting and hitting long after Angstrom stopped fighting back. Which is what prompts the famous "I thought you were stronger..."

Now, in this situation it looks pretty justifiable that Mark attacked Angstrom so aggressively,. it was self defense for one against a man trying to kill him and he only got truly aggressive after he saw his mother's arm get broken. Not only that he didn't intentionally kill Angstrom, you can argue he went too far in a case of clear self defense. Other people even tell Mark that this one isn't on him, including Cecil who compares Mark to his father the most.

Then, why is Mark so disturbed?

It's because this....

Is a deliberate parallel to this...

It's not just that Mark killed a man, it's that he killed a man by pounding on him relentlessly long after he'd stopped fighting back the exact same way his father did to him during their fight.

There's a difference between Mark say, fighting against a viltrumite and making a deliberate decision to kill them because of the danger that viltrumites represent to other people considering they are planet conquerors, and Mark killing this man because he lost his temper and couldn't control his own strength.

Mark spends the entire season trying to not be like his father, only to see first hand that he's capable of the exact same violence that his father is. The last episode of Season 2 summarizes this moment pretty perfectly in a montage of season 1 moments while Mark screams and breaks the sound barrier trying to push his viltrumite powers to their limits.

Mark: I'm strong enough and I can do this. It's all I've ever wanted for as long as I can remember. I want to do what you do. I want to be just like you. Omni-Man: You will be, son. You will. Mark screaming. Omni-Man: You'll outlast every single fragile being on this planet. You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away. Everyone and everything you know will be gone. Mark screaming. Cecil: You know who else said that to me? Mark: I'm not my dad. Mark screaming some more. KRegg: Your father will be execute and you can return to earth. You will assume the mission to prepare earth for our rule.

So not only is Mark hit with the realization that he's just as capable of being violent and angry as his father is. He also is being forced by the situation to become more violent out of pragmatism, because if he doesn't get strong enough to fight viltrumites then they're going to come to his planet and take everything.

Not only has Mark lost some of his innocence, he's also being forced to throw the rest of it away. It's why Mark drops out of college at the end of the season because any pretense of balancing between his human life and his duty as a hero is gone. He is basically forced to be a viltrumite full time now and will abandon any semblance of trying to live his own life for a very, very long time until his relationship with Eve starts to get serious.

Which is why a pretty justifiable murder in this context is presented as so bloody, gruesome and traumatizing an event for both the audience and Mark himself. We both know there's no coming back from this.

As for the death of main series villain Shigaraki Tomura, Deku ends up being forced to kill Shigaraki in a situation similiar to Mark. Though I will highlight one difference right away. Mark was trying to reason with Angstrom, but he was at no point like "I want to save Angstrom, he's a victim I want to find some other way of ending this bloody conflict between us." Mark just didn't intend to go so far as killing him.

Deku entered the fight with the explicit stated desire to save Shigaraki rather than killing him, which would make him different from the previous generation of heroes because he wouldn't turn a blind eye to society's faults and victims like Shigaraki accused him of.

Deku makes a journey into Shigaraki's mental landscape to find Tenko in a recreation of the memory of the day of his worst trauma. As Tenko's quirk activates, Deku attempts to grab the little boy's hands to comfort him.

Deku's "Why I am here" is markedly different from All Might's. Deku says the reason he wants to save others is to take their hands, comfort them and give them peace, whereas All Might as the strongest hero tried to keep peace by beating all the villains down. Deku's way to become the greatest hero once again, focuses heavily on saving others, and offering his hand to everyone without hesitation instead of picking and choosing who to save like previous generations.

Deku even says that he has to extend a helping hand to everyone because he's learning that the world is more complicated than he thought, he was ignorant to a lot of people's suffering, and he can't sweep their pain under the rug anymore.

For a moment Deku unconditionally extending a hand to Shimura Tenko even as his mental body begins to decay away wins over Shimura Tenko. Though Shigaraki also resists because much like Twice he doesn't want to abandon the rest of his friends even if it means he personally will be saved.

However, any attempts to save Shigaraki are interrupted by AFO suddenly appearing out of nowhere and taking control of Shigaraki's body yet again.

At this point Deku does exactly what Mark does, which is relentlessly punch Shigaraki's body to death in order to kill AFO along with Shigaraki. In some small defese Shigaraki was also there too punching AFO in his mental landscape so he was assisting Deku in defeating AFO he wasn't helpless the entire time.

But, basically we see the same scene happen with Mark.

A hero who does not wish to kill is forced by circumstance to kill a villain. In Deku's case it should be even more devastating because they explicitly went into the fight wanting to save Shigaraki and they believed their power was for saving and not killing.

Yet, we don't get nearly as horrified a response from Deku.

However, instead Deku's final words are just about how he couldn't forgive Shigaraki and had to put a stop to him no matter what.

Even the way the scenes are presented to us are entirely different. Mark punches Angstrom in a wasteland a dry, dead place, until he's soaked in Angstrom's blood, and painted everything around him red. Once again, it's a visual callback to Mark's father beating him half to death, which was Mark's own lowest point.

Whereas, when Deku punches Shigaraki until he disintegrates not only is the violence or horror of Shigaraki's death not acknowledged, but it's played as a triumphant moment where the clouds clear from the sky and the stun starts shining.

In the cartoon Mark killing Angstrom leads to a total screaming breakdown where he has traumatic flashbacks of his dad beating him and pushes himself to break the sound barrier multiple times. It also leads him to making big life changes like dropping out of college to become a hero full time and giving up any pretense of having a normal life. As seen in a scene where he watches Amber from the sky, and is tempted to go down and greet her and just flies off, because Amber represents his connection to his humanity.

Also, Angstrom doesn't even die. He comes back way worse and that's how invinicble war arc starts.

In the aftermath of killing Shigaraki, Deku gets melancholy about not being able to save Shigaraki only to be reassured he did save him in the end. Only to be told by All Might that it's okay because he still saved Shigaraki's heart even if he killed him.

DEKU: "I couldn't save Tenko's life." "I reached out to his heart, and even though his hatred was crushed," "to the very end, Tenko" "was the leader of the League of Villains." ALL MIGHT: "Let me tell you this as someone who has had a near-death experience," "I think it's in the expression on his face at the end." "If there wasn't a crying boy there," "I think his heart was saved after all,"

People also try to convince mark that he did nothing wrong and that there was no helping what he did in a situation like that, but he doesn't let himself believe them.

The ending lines about the last episode of Season 2, are this:

Eve: I'm sorry Mark. It's not fair. You don't deserve this. Eve: You don't deserve this.

Which has a double meaning. Eve is just trying to comfort Mark, because arguably he shouldn't have to feel guilty for fighting in self defense. On the other hand what Mark hears is You don't deserve this in the context of Eve's feelings for him. An alternate timeline version of Eve confessed her love for Mark. Mark was about to bring it up but decided not to. At that moment as Eve embraces and comforts him, what Mark hears because of his own self loathing is that he doesn't deserve Eve comforting him, or her love for him.

Just to clarify I don't think that Mark is crying over Angstrom Levy specifically. In fact over time he's painted to be pathetic in his obsession with revenge, and what he amounts to is just wanting to blame everything on invincible when it was partially caused by his own actions.

However, it's inarguable that killing (or rather seemingly killing Angstrom) deeply impacted Mark and how he saw himself as a hero. It's less about Angstrom, and more about the loss of control, and the realization of how powerful his anger and hatred can get and what that means for him personally.

It also shows us where Mark's priorities lie. Mark wants to be a perfect hero and a perfect family man, and Invincible shows us he can't be both, his desire to protect his family leads him to staining his blood when he was trying so hard to be a good, selfless hero. This is all a part of a deliberate arc where Mark chooses more and more to value his family over being a hero. I'm not going to say whether or not it's the right choice, but it's a choice he makes, as a part of his character development where as he grows up and becomes a father his priorities change.

My point is that this moment has an impactful change on Mark, for arguably the rest of the comic.

Now my question is, with My Hero Academia will the death of Shigaraki Tomura, the series greatest villain and it's greatest victim have an equal impact on Deku's character that Levy's death did on Mark's?

#bnha 424 #bnha spoilers #invincible #mark grayson #deku #izuku midoriya #mha 424 #mha spoilers #omni man #bnha meta #mha meta

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