#ESPECIALLY without Maeve around

[riisume]

Honestly. I feel like Zander's so fucking stupid and insecure that he'd feel threatened by Shiloh at first when it came to Maeve.

Obviously he'd have nothing to worry about cuz they're siblings and nothing more, but he'd see the way they interact and probably get hella jealous.

Shiloh and Maeve have a good relationship despite being half-siblings. Maeve often dotes on Shiloh and tries to bring him out to places when she comes home to visit. Try to get him to meet some people, make friends, provide moral support, etc.

Zander would get better at learning how to share Maeve and overcome his insecurity and jealousy, but him and Shiloh would likely NOT get along at first. And it would put Maeve in a really awkward spot.

And Shiloh's not good with dealing with other people and their emotions (especially negative ones). So he gets easily flustered when people present him with conflict. So when Zander can't keep his feelings inside and blabs them to Shiloh it... Wouldn't go well.

Shiloh probably looks really stoic on the surface, but people, their emotions, and conflict scare him.

Maeve would go all protective-mode and probably tell Zander to get his shit together or else they'd break up (assuming they were together at this point in time). She'd be open to helping him work through whatever he's feeling, but he HAS to leave Shiloh out of it.

[pathologicalreid]

Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!

don't lose your head | S.R.

a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!

you

You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.

After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.

They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.

From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.

The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.

Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.

You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.

There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.

Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.

Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.

“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.

Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.

“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.

From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.

Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.

“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”

Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”

Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.

“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.

In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”

Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”

An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.

Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”

“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”

Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.

Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.

A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”

That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.

Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.

Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”

You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”

“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.

After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”

Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.

him

Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.

The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.

Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”

As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.

The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.

It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.

Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”

Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.

“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.

Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”

JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”

“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.

Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”

Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”

“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.

Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”

Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”

Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.

“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”

Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”

“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.

Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”

“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”

There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”

Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”

There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”

Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”

“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.

He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.

Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.

“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.

There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.

Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.

“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.

All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.

“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”

Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.

“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”

Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”

As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.

Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.

Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.

“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.

You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: Asking You Out

Requested: hi, idk if you write for the supes, but I will try request anyway :D how would the supes ( the boys series) ask a gn reader out? Ty - anon

A/N: I hope this is okay my love! I tried to stay true to character as much as possible, so I'm not sure how romantic some of them are. I tried writing for new Supes too, at least new for me, so apologies if it's not totally in character! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Homelander doesn't exactly ask you out. Rather, on live TV during an interview or event, he grabs your hand and proclaims that you're in love, that you're a couple. Whether or not you're into him, it still comes as a shock. Afterwards he'll ask you on a date where the public and paparazzi can see and take pictures. It's not as intimate as you'd like, but the date goes well. He takes you to an expensive restaurant where you've gotten rid of your suit for something classy and elegant, but he sticks with his regular attire. It's definitely not how you were expecting to be asked out or how you thought your relationship would progress. Ashley thinks it's great! You are both insanely powerful and, for selfish reasons, she wants Homelander off her back. She appreciates that you'll take some of the attention off her.

The Deep probably makes more than a few inappropriate, crude, raunchy jokes about and around you before he properly introduces himself. It's almost compulsive the way his jokes come out. He just can't help himself. He later apologizes and asks to start fresh. Would you want to go out on a date with him? When you say yes, he instantly tells you about all his ideas. You could go to the aquarium or to dinner or to the amusement park or coffee or whatever you want to do. You stick to coffee. It's pretty cute how excited he is. He wasn't expecting you to say yes, so he really didn't have it planned all the way through. He was expecting, like everyone else in his life, for you to call him stupid and move on without answering.

A-Train and you have been dating forever, but you haven't been out on a date in ages. He's still shy trying to ask you out even now. Of course you say yes, excited you'll get some time alone. You might have to reschedule once or twice because Homelander is on the rampage, but when you do get together, he takes you rollerskating. Despite how fast he is in sneakers, he's awful on wheels. He holds your hand the entire time and definitely drags you down when he falls. He stays pretty casual in his clothes and tries to keep his hood up, but it just falls down. You guys find a roller-rink in the middle of nowhere, so you're pretty safe in being discovered. You make fun of his clumsiness and check him for bruises when he falls, especially hard. He makes the same joke over and over: that he "fell" for you. You think he's an idiot, but this is by far one of your most favorite dates.

Queen Maeve asks you out over text. When you say yes, she shows up in her civilian clothes. She makes sure she isn't followed and that Homelander is distracted the entire day. She takes you to the movies. It's dark and secluded, but she knows you love movie theater popcorn specifically with all the butter and the blue raspberry slushies, and you picked the only movie not funded by or produced by Vought. It's a really terrible comedy, but you two can laugh at it anyway. Maeve even holds your hand during the movie which makes her heart beat out of her chest. Afterwards she makes you stay after to kiss you and tell you she had a really great time. It's the first time in forever where she's felt like a real person whose allowed to do real person things. She wants to get your read on it, but you're both excited for a second date.

Firecracker would ask you on a date to some fast food restaurant where you can get the best greasy food and the thickest milkshakes. She'll definitely be sported because she doesn't go incognito and ends up spending a few minutes at least taking pictures and videos for everyone who wants one. She apologizes for them, but secretly, she loves it. You don't mind. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to the date. She tells you about her life growing up and her past with Starlight. You tell her about your own life and how you came to New York to follow your dreams. She tells you about joining The Seven and what she really thinks of Vought. It isn't the most magical date, but you're glad you said yes. It made you feel like a teenager again, getting food with your old crush, trying to play it cool when you're actually freaking out.

Soldier Boy doesn't really ask you out on a date. You two *get busy* in bed and afterwards he asks if you'd want to go to a bar. You say yes and find yourself at a local hole in the wall, a place that definitely doesn't see new faces. Most of the patrons are as old as Ben would be if he'd aged. He looks so familiar to them, but they can't figure out where he's from. An old friend? An old co-worker? Regardless, they don't pay attention to the two of you. You and Ben start trying to out drink one another and though his tolerance is astronomically higher than yours, you keep up enough to impress him. You two probably go back to bed and keep drinking, sharing stories about your lives between sweaty sheets and shared sips of whatever booze he has lying around. It's not too official, but you both kind of think of it as a date.

Bonus! Annie asks you to go bowling with her. Like in the show, she plays it off like she's not very good until you point it out to her. That's when she starts kicking your ass. She's really embarrassed and worried that you'll think she's showing off or just trying to make you feel bad, but you love it. You love her strength. You love her showing off and almost breaking the pins with the ball. You get really awful bowling alley food and beers, and it's a really fun night despite all the drama that comes with being Starlight. It's the first time in a long time she's felt normal and safe and excited to be here, excited to be herself. You're not shy about asking for a second date, though you know you're risking a lot by wanting to be with her. She makes that known before anything else.

[valeskawhore]

Hi darling<3, hope you are doing okay<3! I was wondering if i can get a one shot or headcanons (wichever is easier for you) where Homelanders fall in love genuinely for a Female s/o wich is so cute, sweet and kind and have angel powers, like the wings, she can put people to sleep if she sings and almost looks like an angel (perfect sking almost in a pale pink tone, and pink hair<3). And the team is very confused like "How in the hell you fall in love with someone?", but Homelanders is very happy and wants to be a good boyfriend :D

Sorry it took me a bit!!!! Here you go lovely!!!! ❤️

Homelander x fem! Angel!! Supe reader!!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was such a surprise that Homelander could pull any bitches tbh.. (according to Maeve and A-train)

There was that one nazi chick but nobody even knows what happened to her? Didn’t she commit? Ehhh— nobody cares anyways.. especially not him.

You were the light of his life, his Angel on earth.

You both met during a Hero Galla being hosted in the tower. You weren't the biggest supe out there but you were a good friend of maeve's and what better time to have and reconnect then to get drunk at a hero gala? She was thrilled to see you again, as thrilled as Maeve can be anyways. You joined her at the bar, your wings stayed tucked on your back. They were huge so everytime you went to a public event you always ended up folding them into eachother as tightly as they possible could without them hurting. His words caught in his throat when he first saw you. And fun fact, he actually thought you were a painting when he first saw you. You were standing outside the bathroom, waiting for Maeve to stop throwing up after she ushered you outside, insisting that she was fine. You stood under a giant mural of a painting, one with angels on it unitentionally. It was very christain or something, with naked babies flying around in their white clothes wrapped around their bottoms and shooting arrows. Just something like that-- he dosent know, he didn't stare at the painting. This man had to do a double take. He glanced and was like-- "oh painting" and just as he was about to turn and walk away, Yanno do his job and charm the president for madam stillwell, The painting MOVED-- You simply turned to the side like a smidge and this man was on you when he found out you were REAL. You had the soft pink complexion with bright light undertones. You're hair was as if you were cupid. The color of love even in his eyes. Was it hearts? shingling in the reflection of his blue saucers? or was it your hair? he didn't know, he didn't give a fuck. But best believe, he was on you like white on rice. Homelander had never felt so bold before but there was something about your kind smile and words. Your voice was soft and quiet, he wasn't complaining, this gave him an excuse to step closer to you and invade your personal space so he could hear you over all the commotion in the room. He would grab your hand and introduce himself as THE homelander, Kissing your gentle soft knuckles. Did he mention you were soft? SOOOO soft. You blinked at him, "Oh..? are you important? iv'e never heard of you before?" And you really hadn't. you grew up on a small farm in Washington state allllllll the way over on the last state on the west side of the country. You didnt own a TV, you didn't even have a phone. that's why it took so long for you and make to reconnect. He was shocked, his pride was almost hurt a bit. Ofcourse he went into the fact that he's above everyone else because he was KINDA a big deal but it's fine. Cue to him obnoxiously shrugging and rolling his eyes with a wave of his hand, no biggie. But you were fascinated. He was so caught in your eyes, he didnt even realize the fact that you had wings until you turned around when you heard maeve's voice. Asking what the FUCK was Homelander doing. But it was no matter, because now it was your turn to sing for the gala! Little to your knowledge did Maeve make a public announcement that there was going to be a special preformance tonight from the one and only, "Seraphina" Your hero name. You were ushered to the stage pretty quickly by Maeve but untimatley she just wanted you away from Homelander as fast as possible. The song started pretty slowly. But that was your motive, the song was supposed to be a slow almost-lulliby theme. And if this man wasn't Inlove with you from the start, he definitely was now. There was something about your voice. something so calmly and soothing. Visable, his muscle sunk to the ground. He felt so relaxed under your tone.

It wasn’t until you had stopped singing abruptly and the crowd began to murmur was when he opened back up his eyes to see that your backup violinist had fallen to the ground in a deep slumber and you went rushing to his side.

Homelander’s eye twitched. Causing him to swiftly approach the stage in a not so calm like manner and step into it causing the crowd to cheer.

“Come on, sweetness. He’s fine.” Homelander smiled his signature smile. When you turned around, Homelander landed a swift kick to the man’s groin causing the man to choke out.

“See?” He turned to you, almost searching for approval. “He’s fine, sing. Please.”

He demanded.

And nervously.. you did.

——-

The rest of the night was history. Homelander remained attempting to chat you up until you finally told him that yes, you’d go on a date with him. He was ecstatic, but yet fearful.

He saw the way Maeve looked at you. Not in a romantic way but In a warning way. He knew Maeve was gonna try and say something to you about him, and destroy your relationship with him.

He threatened her that night and actually had her locked up on level 12.

————

When you guys did start dating, it was great. Homelander had convinced you that he was the perfect gentleman for you. That you guys belonged to eachother.

And for a while you thought that you guys did. Sure he was a little possessive but you never once doubted that he didn’t loved you because you knew he did.

He would follow you around and help you clean the house. He would insist on trying for children and on those lonely nights he’d hold you like no other.

And the sex was great. It really was.

But remember that guy from Walmart that said he knew you? And you both ended up grabbing a coffee after finding out you guys were really close in high school?

No? Because Homelander can’t either. That guy never existed apparently.. according to John.

Everything was fine.. that’s what you told yourself. You lived in a lavished home, nothing like the small farm from Washington. And you were taken care of.. set for life.

Until a smaller woman would approach you and ask for your help in rescuing Maeve. Her name was starlight and she apparently was a member of the 7. You glanced around, and told her to keep her voice down before ushering her into the bathroom and demanding that she’d explain.

What was going on? What couldn’t you find Maeve? She had been missing ever since you and Homelander had began dating.

John insisted that it was nothing and that Maeve had went to rehab? So what was going on.

You ended up telling John about your strange encounter with said straight and endorsed that she was strange.

You’ll never forget the look in his eyes from across the dinner table, like something had snapped in them. His blue eyes now felt cold as he stopped chewing his food with a nervous tensed laugh.

For the first time, you felt scared.

Maybe that little blonde girl was right.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Innocent (Homelander)

Description: Y/N is the newest member of the seven and Homelander takes a liking to her.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,715k

She looked up at the building in awe. She stood in front of the seven’s building. She couldn’t believe that she was going to be in the seven. She couldn’t wait to meet everyone, especially Homelander. She loved him and couldn’t wait to see him in person. She walked into the building and her anxiety raised. She almost walked right back out but someone got her attention. “Hi, I'm Ashley.” A red headed girl greeted her. “I’m Y/N or Y/S/N.” She introduced herself as if Ashley didn’t already know who she was. “The new member of the seven.” Ashley clarified with her. “Let’s show you around.” Y/N nodded.

Ashley walked her into the room where all the other Supes were. “Ashley, we are having a meeting.” Homelander snapped at her but stopped when he saw the girl next to her. She looked so pure and sweet. She was in her costume which was a white bodysuit and Angel wings. “Well who’s this?” He said, walking towards them. Y/N tensed up and couldn’t believe that Homelander was right in front of her. “This is Y/N or Y/S/N.” She introduced her. Homelander’s eyes traveled down her body and Ashley cleared her throat. “That’s a pretty name for such a pretty girl.” The others looked at each other. “Thank you, Homelander.” Y/N said, Homelander melted at her sweet voice, she was adorable. He wanted to ruin her.

“Ashley, leave I got the rest.” He commanded. Ashley left without question leaving Y/N alone with the Supes. “I’ll be showing around for now.” He told her and turned around. “Guys, this is Y/N.” He introduced her to the group. Y/N looked at everyone in shock. “Cat got your tongue, pretty girl.” A-Train said. Homelander hit the back of his head as he walked by him. “Don’t.” He growled. Y/N just stood there not knowing what to do. “Y/N you can come sit.” She looked around and didn’t see an empty chair. “Uh where do you want me to sit, sir?” She asked, he got hard just at her calling him that. “On my lap for now.” Maeve looked at him in disgust as it clicked in her head what was going on. Y/N walked over to him and he pulled her to sit on his lap. The others tried not to think about it too much but could tell what was going on.

His hands placed themselves on her hips. She loved the feeling of his hands on her, though it also made her very nervous. It also caused her lady parts to tingle. As the meeting happened she couldn’t really focus much, she was nervous and the feeling of Homelander caressing her made it worse. As he ended the meeting everyone got up including her but he pulled her down. “You’re staying with me.” He tells her and she nods. Once the door was closed his hand moved to her thigh. “So Y/N tell me what’s got your heart racing so fast.” “I’m nervous about all of this.” She tells him, playing with her fingers. His eyes dragged over her form like he did earlier. “You know what helps with nerves?” He asked her, but she didn’t have an answer so she shook her head.

His fingers moved closer to her pussy, “Orgasms.” He whispered and bit her ear a little bit. Her breathing picked up as his hand was inches from her wetness. “Ever had one?” He asked, she shook her head no. His finger lightly traced her clothed pussy. She hummed at the feeling. It felt really good. “It feels amazing, baby. You’ll love it.” He tells her. She gasped as she felt him push her body suit and underwear aside and felt his bare finger on her clit. “You’re already wet.” He says and starts playing with her. She was letting out little moans and whimpers as his fingers rubbed on her clit. “How does that feel, baby?” He asked her, and she moaned out “so good.” He chuckled and took another finger and traced her hole with it.

“This will feel even better.” He tells her before sliding in his finger as slow as he could so she could adjust to it. She whined in pain at first leaning back against him. But once she got used to it, it felt really good. Her little moans turned to big ones. “Your pussy is so tight.” He groans. Her hand grabbed his wrist as he finger fucked her. He watched her with intense eyes as she got closer to release. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes were closed, the most pornographic noises left her lips. He began kissing her neck and whispering the dirtiest things in her ear, making her red. “You look so pretty with my finger inside of you.” He whispered, she moaned in response. “Think you can take another?” He asked as if her answer mattered. He added another finger making her whine his name. He chuckled and kissed her neck again.

Her hips started involuntary moving. She gripped his wrist as her hips synced with his fingers. He stopped kissing her neck and nuzzled it, smelling her. Her scent was sweet and he could smell her arousal. Her scent was addicting. He curled his fingers hitting her g spot, she screamed back Homelander covered her mouth with his other hand. “Shh baby. You don’t want the others to know that on your first day you became my bitch.” She moaned against his hand. Her chest started moving up and down really fast, she began panting against his hand. She felt the really good feeling get better and better. Homelander felt her clenching around his fingers. “Are you close?” He asked her, she couldn’t answer him with words due to his hand covering her mouth so she nodded. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He demanded and she did. Her body arched as her first orgasm started.

The feeling was like nothing she had ever felt before. She felt it through her entire body as his fingers kept moving inside of her. Her eyes rolled back and she kept moaning. He watched in awe as she experienced this. Once her high was gone he pulled out his fingers and saw how drenched they were. He put them in his mouth and suckled on them, moaning at how good she tasted. She watched him with wide eyes as he licked his fingers clean. “You taste so fucking amazing.” He moaned. She kissed him and moved to straddle him. He helped her and kissed back. The taste of her orgasm was on his tongue and lips, making her moan. His hands rubbed her hips as she deepened the kiss. “Give me more please.” She moaned against his lips. “More what?” Though he knew what she was talking about. “Orgasms.” She said and kissed him again. He stood up with her in his arms. He sat her on the table, never breaking the kiss. She pulled at his suit, basically begging him to take it off. He pulled away from the kiss and pulled down his pants.

“Take your suit off.” He told her. She pulled the straps off her shoulders and stood up to get it off her body. She stood bare in front of him. He stared at her naked body, taking in every inch of her. She had an amazing body and he couldn’t wait to be inside of it. He picked her up and placed her back on the table. She looked down at his hard dick. It was long and big, it made her nervous. “You like what you see?” He asked. She looked up at him and nodded. “How will it fit?” She asked with her head turned a little. God she was so pretty, he thought. “Guess we will see.” He said and stroked himself a few times before lining himself up with her entrance that was super wet again.

She wrapped an arm around his neck as he slowly pushed in. She closed her eyes and prepared for the pain that made her cry out. He watched her face twist in pain as his big dick split her in half. He pulled her hips closer, making her cry his name. He felt bad that she was in pain, which was weird for him. He wanted to give her the world and not hurt her. “Shhh baby it’ll feel so good.” He whispers and places his face in her neck. His eyes rolled back at the sweet scent of her. Once he was inside of her, he stopped to let her adjust. She opened her eyes and moved her hips a little to see if the pain was away. She moaned in delight as the pain was no longer. He took that as a sign to start thrusting. His hips made the table below them creak but neither of them cared. Her other hand was holding his and squeezing as the pleasure got more intense. “Homelander.” She whined as his hips picked up speed. He pulled back from her neck to look at her.

He placed his forehead on hers and they stared at each other. Moans left both of their lips. She kissed him to silence them both as the pleasure got more intense. Their bodies moved in sync, she gasped in his mouth as she felt the amazing feeling rise again. “Fuck.” He groaned as he felt his orgasm as well. “I want us to cum together.” He tells her , making her nod. He could tell that she was close and she could tell he was as well. “I’m so close.” She warned him. “Me too, baby.” Both of them were sweating and making the sweetest noises. She hugged him tight as she tumbled over the edge, screaming in his neck. He whined as he came as well. She gasped as they both rode out their highs. The feeling better than it was before. He stopped his hips after the high was gone. She pulled back and looked at him. Her hair was damped and ruined from sex, it made him smile. She looked so beautiful. It was at that moment that he knew he was gonna make her his wife.  

[venus-haze]

Under My Skin (Black Noir x Reader)

Summary: Just when you think you don’t have a chance with Black Noir, an investor gala gives you a new opportunity to get under his skin.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also the song I’ve Got You Under My Skin. I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten a chance to write for Black Noir! Pre-season 1 where you’re in The Seven. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The piece of paper on the table in front of you was mocking you. Black Noir had already won three out of the four tic-tac-toe matches you were silently engaged in during The Seven’s daily briefing, and with the way things were going, he was poised to win a fifth. With a huff, you drew a hopeless circle and silently slid it back to Noir.

“Nightowl,” Homelander said.

You looked up, bringing your attention to him. 

“Great work on the team-up with Noir the other night.”

Noir slid the paper back to you, his tic-tac-toe win marked with a clean line, but he’d also drawn a smiley face.

You smiled. “Anytime.”

Homelander continued on, and you only half paid attention, your focus increasingly on the man sitting beside you. Even before you joined The Seven, you admired Noir for his stealth and prowess, something you aspired to. Upon your first team-up, it was clear your powers, most effective at night, complimented his incredibly well. Plus, he seemed to like you from the start, which put you in Homelander’s good graces most of the time. 

Absentmindedly, you drew a little heart on the paper, feeling your face heat up when you saw Noir’s head turned toward you. He didn’t acknowledge the drawing, instead beginning a new game of tic-tac-toe. Embarrassment flooded your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You hoped he didn’t think you were being weird.

“Last thing…” Homelander said, reading off the agenda. “Oh yeah, investor gala this weekend.”

“Great, another ass-kissing convention,” Maeve mumbled.

“Can we make sure shrimp cocktail isn’t served this time?” The Deep asked. “I just feel like—“

Homelander’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, do I look like a caterer, Deep? Am I carrying around a silver platter–”

After a few more moments of bickering, Homelander ended the meeting, not without everyone still grumbling under their breath about the gala. No one particularly liked schmoozing over rich assholes, but they made your lucrative paychecks possible, so it was a necessary evil. 

You and Noir hadn’t finished the last round of your game, but when he left, he took the paper with him. 

You sighed. You knew you had it bad for him, but it was tough to gauge his feelings for you when his face was constantly covered by his mask. Even when you blatantly flirted, he seemed unaffected by your advances toward him. Of course you’d fall for this mystery of a man, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Your endeavor was starting to feel hopeless.

“So, when are you gonna make a move on Noir?” Homelander asked, walking out of the meeting room with you. “And don’t give me that ‘we just work together’ bullshit. The tension’s so thick I could laser through it.”

“You can laser through anything.”

He rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Look, there’s only so long I can take the two of you making heart-eyes at each other. I mean, get a room.”

“He makes heart-eyes at me?” you asked softly.

“Yes, so do something about it already.”

“Maybe at the gala. Everyone’s there to see you, anyway.”

“That’s true. No one would really notice if you and Noir weren’t there,” he said, before giving you a slightly painful pat on the shoulder. “Well, except me if you’re loud enough.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Thanks, Homelander.”

You never took his comments like that to heart. You knew you weren’t one of the more interesting members of The Seven, especially compared to the likes of Homelander and Maeve. It was a blessing in disguise, as you ended up stuck doing far less schmoozing than they did. Homelander could hide his disdain for whoever Vought wanted him to entertain for the evening, but on more than one occasion, you’d been on the receiving end of his rant about “pandering to the mud people.”

Noir always showed up to these events, despite not interacting with anyone unless it was to get food. Once in a while, you’d watch as someone tried to start a conversation with him, only to be ignored before awkwardly making an excuse to leave. At least he’d give you the time of day, silently letting you people watch with him, acknowledging your observations about the various guests with a nod, or on rare occasions, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly when you’d said something funny. You always felt especially accomplished then.

The night of the gala was only nerve-wracking because you were finally going to be forward with Noir and see where that got you, rather than your tentative approach in the past. 

When you arrived on the floor where the investor gala was being held, you went through all of the necessary introductions as quickly as you could. Across the room, Black Noir was playing the piano, as he tended to do during crowded events. You’d asked him before where he learned to play, and he wrote simply on a cocktail napkin ‘My grandma.’ As much as he trusted you, there were still parts of himself that were guarded, carefully revealing pieces of his past to you, though you could never fully put the whole picture together. In all the years you were a member of The Seven, you weren’t sure you ever would. 

His past didn’t matter to you. You were fond of the man he was, even if he didn’t reveal his whole self to you. Still, you wished you knew more. He didn’t seem to have any family, at least that he was in contact with. Then again, most of your teammates had complicated relationships with your families, yourself included. That one talent of his, however, showed that at one point there was someone he was close to, that he had a life outside of being a member of The Seven. You hoped the two of you could have that together.

Finally able to slip away from the people whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember, you made your way over to Noir. He looked up from the piano, tilting his head a bit in acknowledgement of you.

“This party’s so boring.” You made a point to lean against the piano, letting the spandex of your suit highlight your body. “I mean, I can think of much better things you and me could be doing with our time.”

You weren’t sure if he was nodding along with your sentiment or the music. Ever so frustratingly difficult to read. Taking his response in stride, you sat down next to him on the piano bench. He didn’t stop playing, but he didn’t move away from you either. 

“Will you show me how to play?” you asked.

He paused, the soft music stopping momentarily. With a nod, he shifted closer to you, placing his gloved hands over yours. You let him guide you, though your gaze was on him rather than the keys. 

“You’re great with your hands, Noir,” you said. “I mean, playing piano, fighting criminals, I’m sure there’s more you can do, if you ever wanna show me sometime.”

No reaction. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Homelander was just messing with you. Maybe—

He rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. It was something, finally some indication that he returned your affection. 

“You wanna get out of here?” you asked softly. “I only came for you, anyway.”

He took your hand in his, the music from the piano ceasing abruptly again. He brought his pointer finger to his mouth, and you giggled despite his silent instruction to be quiet. 

Glancing around, you noticed everyone else was preoccupied, mainly with competing for Homelander’s attention, as usual. The perfect opportunity for the two of you to slip away from the party with ease. Stealth was his speciality after all. 

You let him lead you away from the gala and to an empty balcony on another floor of the tower. The city seemed to sparkle especially bright that night. Feeling bold, you rested your head on his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his.

“I wish we could be like this more often,” you whispered. “You’re the only person I like spending so much time with. I think of you, and I—it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted you to know.”

After a few minutes of silence, Noir moved away from you, reaching for something in his pocket. A folded piece of paper, the same one the two of you had been playing tic-tac-toe on just a few days earlier. He handed it to you, and you scanned the page before landing on the heart you’d drawn, finding he’d drawn another one around it.

“This is so high school,” you laughed, nevertheless taking his covered face in your hands and kissing him. “So, what do we do now, loverboy?”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh contentedly.

[leonspretty]

dance with me

in which neither you nor spencer can sleep, so you dance

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: gn!reader (i think), they love each other (in secret), post season 2 reid but no specific season, fluff fluff fluff, confessions.

notes: my love, spencer reid. i love the idea of dancing in the refridgerator light (ts reference!) and spence seems like the kind of guy who would love to just hold his partner close and sway, kinda like how he did with maeve :(. i also really wanna run my hands through his hair while looking him in the eyes.

wc: 798

"Another show's off and runnin', Dance with me, cuz there's a storm a commin' Follow my boots, try to keep up, Dance with me, until sun up." — Kate Denson's "Dance with Me"

The knock at your door was unexpected, but from it being 2am, you knew there was only one person it would be.

You and Spencer had an unspoken tradition of turning up at each other's apartments in the middle of stormy nights. Usually there was some warning but tonight there was none.

Opening the door, you see Spencer, wet from the rain and bags under his eyes. Though you did not work with him, you were well aware of his job and how demanding it could get.

"Hey, can't sleep?" You ask, though you already knew the answer.

The only reply you got was a small, almost unnoticeable nod from Spencer. With no further thinking, you stepped to the side, opening your door wider to allow him in. You gave him a soft smile as he passed you, closing and locking the door behind him.

Without saying anything else, you started up some coffee and turned on some background music on your speakers while you waited for it. Meanwhile, Spencer had dropped his bag by your front door with his shoes and met you in your kitchen. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist from behind and his head burrowing in your neck was comforting.

You could tell something was troubling his mind - that was usually the reason either of you would turn up at the other's door - but rather than making him delve into it like you would know he wouldn't like, you decided to make sure he knows that you are there for him.

Without moving away from him, you turned yourself around in his arms to face him. You gave him a soft, knowing smile, meeting your hands together at the back of his neck.

In your dreams, this would be the part where you two kiss, but the fear of rejection prevented you from making it a reality, despite how much Spencer also wished to kiss you too.

Feeling a little flushed, you turned back to making the coffee before an idea came into mind.

You grabbed Spencer’s hand, who was just watching you from behind, and led him further into the middle of your kitchen.

“Dance with me?”

Spencer just nodded, hands coming to your waist again while yours met behind his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The quiet and darkness of the apartment along with the low volume of the music was relaxing. You made eye contact with him, smiling at him yet again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Your voice was soft and quiet, gently breaking the silence.

Instead of replying, he shook his head ‘no’ and looked down. You just nodded and continued to sway with him.

You wanted to say how much you wanted to be with him, opening your mouth to speak again, you closed it immediately, deciding against it.

“What is it?” Spencer asked. The question took you by surprise, not expecting him to have seen you prepare to talk. In his mind, you were going to end everything now, drained, exhausted and bored of him showing up then refusing to talk.

You took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. “Spencer, I’m so sorry, this is not what you need right now, especially with everything you’re going through, but I like you. To be honest I think I’m in love with you but I don’t want to scare you off too much,” you were rambling now, looking down at your feet, unaware of Spencer’s shocked but happy expression as you continued. “I am well aware you don’t feel the same and I don’t even understand why I’m telling you this but-”

The feeling of lips on yours shocked you. You didn't know how to act or what to do for a few seconds. When Spencer realised you weren't kissing back, he pulled back with a smirk, a complete 180 to how his face had been the entire time he had been with you tonight. "Sorry, you were putting yourself down and I couldn't take it anymore. I love you. I have loved you since the third time you let me in here at 3 in the morning. You let me in whenever I turn up with no questions then you don't push when I don't want to talk."

"I love you, Spencer."

Both with bright smiles now, you hugged closer, Spencer's hands coming up to the top of your back and his face in your neck. One of your hands ran through the hair on the back of his head while your other pulled him closer to you.

The both of you were quiet, basking in the love of each other while you continued to dance to the music in your kitchen.

so i know i said id make this one longer but it just didnt. i tried adding more but nothing would fit so here this is. i do kinda like the idea of this one but its just really short. either way, i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

@cafekitsune made the dividers here!

thank you for reading!

[bohemianblasphemy]

can you write maybe billyxreader where reader finds out he slept with maeve and it bothers them and billy reassures them that it wasn’t serious and he loves reader, and they ask him to prove it.

i love a lil angsty smut ✨

@billybutcherrtrash

Numb.

That was all that you could feel in that moment. The abundance of tension in that room where the Boys had their meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Butcher had dropped some intel for their mission to take down Homelander; the superweapon that had supposedly killed Soldier Boy, as well as a small supply of Temp V.

It was however, when he casually dropped the bombshell of how he got this information, which was in the form of sleeping with Queen Maeve.

“Purely transactional, nothin’ else.” He’d grin, before continuing the meeting as if it didn’t mean anything- especially to you.

Billy was a complicated man- He’s determined to get what he wants, even if it meant to sleep with the enemy.

Nothing could have prepared you for that news, the pressure of his words hung on you like dead weight. Uncertainties filled your mind as you thought about the obvious feelings that you and Billy shared for each other.

“Did what we have matter to him? Or was it just to fill in the void?”

It seemed that everyone besides Butcher, who was still yapping away was focused on you and how you were feeling; sending invisible messages of sympathy and pity toward you as you sat there motionless trying to subdue your pain.

Trying to avert your mind to anything else than what you just heard had proved unsuccessful, the image of him and Maeve burned into your brain.

The day was unbearably long, it was too much for you, choosing to feign illness and left for home early. Butcher saw right through your getaway, knowing deep down why you did.

As night fell, your apartment was quiet. Sitting on your small couch as you looked out the window, ruminating thoughts of his ‘transaction’ still fresh in your head.

Knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you made your way to look through the peep hole, seeing none other than Billy himself.

A part of yourself wanted to tell him to fuck off, the other begging to open the door. The latter of your thoughts won as you opened the door- Butcher waltzing in without so much as an acknowledgement.

“Well yes, of course come right in!” Your voice oozed sarcasm and annoyance as you shut the door. He snapped around to look at you.

“You ain’t sick, i know that.” he grumbled. “talk to me, i ain’t leavin’ till ya do.” You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms as you stared at him- staying silent as you figured out the words to say.

“Why her, Billy?” you choked on your words, not looking him in the eye. “How could you think that was okay to sleep with someone else?” Butchers expression showed regret and annoyance at himself, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Love, it wasn’t serious. It was just for the job- nothin’ more, nothin’ less!” his voice rose. “you know the shit i gotta do for the Boys.”

“just for the job?! are you serious right now?” you echoed his words, disbelief laced through your tone. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

Silence fell over the both of you, surrounded by uncomfortable tension. “You didn’t think of me at all?” your voice cracked, Butcher looking over at you with a guilt ridden expression as he strides over to you- placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” he looked into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your anger. “I. Love. You. only you, you get me?” He looked for a sign in your eyes, anything to indicate how you felt.

He sighed. “Maeve and I… it was nothin’, she means nothin’ to me. Nothing like how i feel about ya. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one i want.”

Your heart raced at his words, but the hurt you felt in your heart still lingered.

“Then prove it…”

You challenged, seeing Billy’s eyes widen.

“Show me that i am the only one you love.” you stepped toward him, the short distance closed between you.

“Oh I’ll prove it to ya alright…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Before you could even speak his hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue invading your mouth as he backed you up toward the nearest wall; he hands running up under your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Goosebumps formed along your now bare torso, Butchers calloused hands roaming around your body.

“God you’re just… fuckin’ stunning.” he mumbled as his lips attached to your neck and sucking a red mark onto you, making you purr.

His lips trailed further down as he sat on his knees in front of you you, his digits working on the drawstring on your pants as he pulls them down your thighs along with your underwear.

With a swift movement he turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart.

“Bend over f’me…” he growled, his voice laced in arousal. Obeying his word, you pushed your hips backward, hands braced against the wall- hearing him groan softly at the sight before him.

You heard him shuffle forward, his large fingers dug into your fleshy backside. “I can’t get enough’f this pussy…” he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your folds, burying his face between your legs.

The sinful mix of your moans and Butchers mouth moving along you filled the room. Your legs shook as Billy continued lapping his tongue on you, occasionally smacking you ass causing you to yelp.

Your orgasm came quickly, Billy’s hands holding you up as your legs shook from the overwhelming pleasure of his skilled tongue. “God lovey, i could taste you for hours…” he chuckled, gently biting your ass cheek as he stood back up behind you, unzipping his jeans.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good love…” you felt him line up with you, moaning as he started to tease your sopping cunt with the tip of his cock before plunging deep inside of you.

Hot breath invaded your ear as you were pounded into from behind, Billy taking a grip of your hair.

“You feel me huh? you feel how f-fuckin’ ‘ard i am f’ya?” he grumbled, grabbing your hips roughly. “It’s all f’you. no one else but you, ya hear me?”

You couldn’t reply, the pleasure was too overwhelming for you. Rough fingers snaked down towards your middle, rubbing your sensitive clit.

You whined at the added sensation as your second release was near, Butcher nearing his as his cock pulsated within your walls.

Heavy groans erupted from behind you, his fingers moving faster as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck Billy!” you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock…” he growled in your ear.

His thrusts became sloppier as he came inside you. “fuck… i can’t get over you, my sweetheart…” he praised, turning you around and bringing you in for a passionate kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss he looked you, looking in your eyes - hoping to find a glimpse of convincing you of his love.

Your eyes look at him with a neutral expression.

“As good as that was…” you giggled, moving your mouth closer to his ear.

“it’s gonna take a lot more convincing…”

[bullet-prooflove]

Safe: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Umbrella - Gibbs gets more than he bargained for when he offers you his umbrella.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

The thing that Gibbs likes most about you is that you don’t give damn about what anybody else thinks. That becomes blatantly obvious over the months he continues works with you. You’re a consummate professional, a fierce victim advocate and the most compassionate woman he’s ever met.

The way you speak to the families, it’s an art form.

He could only wish for more people like you. People who haven’t become desensitised by everything they’ve seen. People who still give a shit.

“I don’t know how you do it.” He says to you one night over drinks at a bar he’s already forgotten the name of. “How do you stay sane after seeing so much death?”

Meeting up like this, it’s starting to become a regular thing between the two of you. You’ve been doing it ever since the day you ran into each other at the cemetery. Most nights he grabs a few drinks with his team but Thursdays, he reserves those especially for you.

“I know that people think I’m cold, detached…” You say as you swirl the ice cubes around whiskey glass. “But when I look down at them, I see the person they were. Lieutenant Colchester’s calloused fingers from where he played guitar, the scar on Ensign Lopez’s knee from a cycling accident. They all had hobbies, a life, people who care about them.” You take a sip from the glass. “I guess that makes me driven.”

“It’s a good way to be.” Gibbs tells you, his gaze meeting yours. “You fight for them, even when the lead on the case tells you, you shouldn’t.”

He’s talking about the blow up they all overheard coming from Family and Sexual Violence and Threat Management Unit this afternoon. You have a dead Corporal on your table and Special Agent in Charge LaRue is shoving the file to the bottom of the pile because the deceased used to be hook to put food on the table before she joined the service.

“I’m gonna be person non-grata in that department for a very long time.” You state as you signal to the bartender for another round. “They’ve already requested another M.E.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Gibbs tells you as if it’s something irrefutable.

That’s one of the reasons you like about spending time with Gibbs. There’s no platitudes, there’s only frankness. He’s a man without an agenda and you can not express just how refreshing that is.  

“I know.” You say, pushing your used glass away from you. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I thought it would bring any of them justice.”

You damn well would too, he knows it.

It’s an hour later that he begins to tug on his jacket. It’s the same everytime. Eleven o’clock hits and he walks you home. Only tonight you aren’t pulling on your coat, your still sitting there, your finger tracing around the top of the glass you’ve been drinking from.

“Maeve?” He questions, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“I think I’m gonna stay a while.” You tell him and he sits back down on his stool.

“Alright, well I’ve got nowhere else to be-”

“Jethro.” You say softly, your hand coming to rest on top of his ensuring you have his full attention. “You know that feeling you get, that frustration that builds and builds until you end up starting a fight. I get that too, only I fuck it out.”

“Oh.” He says as it dawns on him. “I’m cock blocking you.”

“You look like a big strapping Marine, ready to beat the shit out of anyone that approaches me.” You inform him and he supposes he kinda does.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I feel…” He begins because his momma taught him a lot better than to leave a woman alone in a bar.

“It’s not about your comfort.” You remind him, your voice turning brittle. “It’s about me getting what I need and what I need is to get fucked.”

He doesn’t like it, not because of the sex but rather the danger it presents. You’ll be taking home you don’t know, someone who could hurt you or worse. He also knows he can’t stop you, that you’re going to do this no matter what he says because it is a need, one that he recognises all too well.

“Will you call me or page me?” He asks you as he raises to his feet once again. “Just so I know you’re safe.”

You sigh, rapping your fingertips upon the surface on the table. He gets the feeling you aren’t used to people actually giving a shit about you. Well tough, he does and you’re just gonna have to get used to that.

“Maybe.” You concede. “If you leave within the next five minutes.”

Maybe…

That’s the best he’s gonna get for now.

It’s a couple of hours later that his pager chirps. He’s doing push ups in the dark on the bedroom floor, trying to chase away the images of another man touching you, tasting you, fucking you. He’s not a jealous man but he is protective, he would go to hell and back for the people he cares about and apparently you’re one of them. He picks up the tiny black device, his gaze fixating on the letters as they scroll across screen.

S-A-F-E.

Safe.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[harrysmimi]

Boo-Boo Away

Synopsis: One where Harry's left alone with two kinds under two as his wife rests on a sick day

Dadrry Fic

More of my work

Harry loves his family.

Without help he was loosing his mind. All of his family is sick from flu. It really started from him, then his wife got sick one of the the kid is breastfeeding.

Bea, the twenty month old and Maeve the two month old were grumpy and moody since last night. Both the parents stayed up to tend to their kids. But YN got even more sick this morning, and she was advised to take rest by her doctor.

Been given birth just two months ago via C-section has already taken a huge toll on her. So, Harry took it upon himself to make YN take a nap and the littlest was all fed and bundled up and fast asleep as well.

Maeve was being difficult to put to sleep, it took him all of a hour and half just rocking her to sleep but it was worth it the moment she fell asleep and he put her next to her Mumma on her bed. She seems to be a little too young to be sick but she's doing the best out of three of the ladies.

Bea could walk, sprint even, so she followed her dad around the house with her blankie dragging behind her as he did the chores. He'd warned the little girl that she could trip and fall with her blankie dragging behind her.

"Princess you will trip like that." He tried to have her hold her blankie in a way she wouldn't fall, bundled up in her arm. But she threw a tantrum. She was adamant to drag it around with her. "Okay, okay, you can have it as your wish." He surrendered.

He placed all of Maeve's clean laundry in the basket as he ran another batch of both the girls clothes. He took the basket out To the kids' room. None of them slept in there, they both liked to sleep in their parents bed. Maeve especially, she is already bonded with her Mummy where as Bea always wants Papa with her.

"Papa." Bea called for him, showing him a toy she's been obsessed with lately. It was a yellow Lego building block. She showed him asking him to go play with her with the building blocks.

"That's so cool, baby." Harry engaged in little conversations with her. She went back out to the living room. "You're still obsessed with that one?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Both YN and Harry have been used to help by their Doula, who helped them both everything as YN healed from giving birth and the parents focused on bonding with their new baby. It was the same when Bea was born. But now that they're both on their own, the chores have become more challenging.

Especially for Harry today. He had to place each of his steps carefully, not wanting to kick his toddler like a football on accident.

As Harry placed the basket of clean laundry in the kids' room he walked out to a living room scattered with toys. They weren't just just limited to the play area but everywhere in the living room.

Harry wanted to cry.

But he left it at that, he doesn't want Bea to cry, and wake up her Mummy and little sister by that. He'd let be on her own until he's done with the dishes.

The little green eyed girl walked upto him again to show him a scribbly drawing of hers. Harry gave her some encouraging words as she walked back out.

She was still dragging that blankie around the house.

It wasn't until he heard a thud and a loud cry that sent him running outside. Bea had fallen down the two little steps which separated their kitchen and living room. She never missed those, it was definitely that dang blankie. Her cried were loud enough to have her sleepy Mummy get out to see her.

"What happened?" YN came running out too, her tired eyes just daring to shut closed again.

"Hey baby," Harry cooed as both the parents gathered around the toddler. "Did you get hurt?"

"Yes." She nodded as she cried, "here." She pointed at her knee which was obviously red.

"Can you move you leg for me?" YN asked and the girl did, "good baby. And again?"

"Hurt." She sniffled. "Hurt."

"I know baby, but we have to move your leg a little so it won't hurt as much." Harry assured her and made her bend her knee a couple of time carefully but apparently it still hurt.

"Boo-Boo away." She leaned onto her Mummy who was closer to her as her dad inspected her knee, "Boo-Boo away!"

"It's alright, see," Harry placed a delicate kiss on her joint and looked at his wife. "Kiss Boo-Boo away, Mummy." And her mummy did too.

"Why don't we go take a nap? With May-may too." YN suggested, "your Boo-Boo will go away after."

She usually just moves on, but given the toddler is sick her tiny body must already be aching already to add to her injury. Harry picked her up like a little doll she is and walked them to the master bedroom.

It was also when Maeve started to wake up all fussy too. It was hour past her feeding time, Harry didn't even realise that. But YN picked her up immediately and brought her to the bed. She lied down the baby as it was the most comfortable position to feed her. Harry placed Bea on the other side.

"May-may no!" Bea cooed as she gently stroked her sister's head. "Mumma, May-may hurt?"

"No, baby she's just hungry." YN explained, "why don't you just lay down, hmm? Cuddle with May-may and Mummy."

Bea lied down on her dad's side of the bed immediately. Making him jealous just as fast. He could use a nap too, he's been up all night and hasn't slept for even a blink. Since yesterday morning.

"Hey, you wanna join us?" YN asked as he was making his way around their bed to go out and finish up all the chores.

"I've got dishes to wash," he shared.

"We can do that later, take a nap with us." YN pressed so he can take some rest too. And he's just recovered from a flu. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay." He walked back to his side and lied on his side.

It was bit crowded with two babies, but it's cosy. Maeve sleeps in the cot kept in her parents room because she's just too small to be on her own. And her older sister likes to sleep right in between her parents on their bed. It is warm and cosy and safe feeling. But when she's in mood she'll demand to sleep in the nursery, in her own bed. And there also another crib in the parents room where Harry would eventually move Bea too. Especially when she's kicking her dad in stomach and face there.

Bea scooted closer to her dad, using his bicep as her pillow she buried herself in his chest for cuddles. It was quiet. Bea asleep and Maeve still having her milk.

The littlest one was drifting in and out of her sleep there, it was so adorable as she smiled and tiniest dimples popped up on her chubby and fluffy cheeks. And she go right to sucking onto her mum's boob until she was breathless. A hungry, hungry little human she is.

"She's running a marathon." Harry whispered and chuckled softly. He doesn't want Bea to wake up. He moved her to the crib carefully.

Only so her fever doesn't go up with her warming up too much. And they can't turn up the AC too much as all of the girls have cold too. He picked up the baby when she was done eating too, and burped her before she was back in her cot too. He sighed seeing how peaceful both of their babies were sleeping. Finally getting the rest they need.

"Now come here, will you?" Now his wife was demanding his attention. And he obliged. He pulled in closer to his chest there.

"You know I love our babies, but I miss our time alone." He shared.

"Awh!" YN cooed, "we can have alone time after they've recovered from flu."

"Mhmm." He sounded tiredly, "hate to see them that way. Bea has been to grumpy since last night."

"Give her a break, she's still a baby." YN chuckled.

"I know, I know." He nodded, "I'm just jealous they get all your time now."

"They get all your time too!"

"Well..." He laughed, "touché."

"Yeah!" YN got all defensive.

"Once you're all recovered, we're gonna it a good few days, the kiddos can go live with my mum for the weekend and we can go to our villa." He layed a rough plan knowing well it could go wrong anyday, anytime.

"You know both of them haven't been to our home in Italy yet?" YN reminded him.

"Need to get their passports sorted then we can take them there for Christmas, yeah?" He suggested, "till then you and I can have some us time there."

"Yeah we can." She smiled. "I love you."

"And I love you more." He placed a kiss on her forehead.

......................................................................

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[danikamariewrites]

Happy Spooky Season! I was wondering if I could request a platonic Rowan looking out for Aelin's teen sister? I feel like he'd be a strict, but protective big brother by insisting on dropping her off at places, like the theatre, picking her up again, accompanying her into Orynth, guarding her during balls (if he's busy then assigning his former cadre to do it for him), etc. And she gets annoyed by it, until his behaviour comes in clutch one day when he spots her in some kind of sticky situation and helps her out.

Big Brother

Rowaelin x little sister!reader

Warnings: short but sweet

When Rowan first came into your and Aelin’s life you were very annoyed by him

He was always in your business and annoying you

But you annoyed him so things were even

You didn’t trust Rowan at first. Hell you didn’t trust anyone around your older sister, especially someone you could see her falling for

Aelin told you about Chaol and you hated him. Who was he to say that you and your sister were monsters?

After Maeve and Erawan you worked out your differences with Chaol and Dorain

Speaking of Dorian, you had a massive crush on him but Rowan shut that down real quick

He also shut down your crush on Petrah Blueblood, “one person in this group being with a witch is enough.” Rowan had scolded. You just stuck your tongue out at him and stomped off to your room

Aelin and Rowan were like your surrogate parents

Your big sister had looked after you all your life

Aelin was your protector and made sure you never had to train to be what she was, but enough to fight and cause the most harm to someone who was trying to hurt you

You were a feral child around Arobynn because you always got bad vibes from him. You also hated the way he looked at your sister

Aelin did baby you, she still does and so does Rowan, but she never hid the truth from you

Once Terrasen was rebuilt, as princess, you started to get involved with the community. Your main focus being schools and the public library

When not attending his kingly duties Rowan was escorting you from event to event, making sure you stayed safe

“Ro, there has never been an attempt. I don’t need a babysitter, I can handle myself.” Rowan raised a silver brow at you. “There hasn’t been one because I’m good at my job, little sister.” The darkness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and made you think about your security detail and how protected you and your kingdom are

During special events if Rowan can’t watch you like a hawk one of the Cadre is assigned to you

Fenrys is for low risk events; putting the two of you together is beyond chaotic. You two are the ultimate sibling duo and you always have fun with Fenrys. He absolutely sees you a little sister and loves having you as a companion especially after Connall

Lorcan is for high risk outings; Lorcan is scary dog privilege. He stares down anyone who even breathes in your direction. Lorcan stands faithfully by your side, arms crossed and weapons on display, for hours on end. As much as you would like to mess with him, you actually behave when Lorcan is around. You know if he’s escorting you it’s serious

Gavriel is just back up; He’s your uncle! Of course he’s more than happy to drop everything to be with his niece. Plus he spoils you to make up for years lost out on family time

As much as you find Rowan’s presence annoying at times there finally came a day where you were thankful for his protection

Heading out to a speaking engagement at the primary school you were trying to find any Cadre members to escort you instead of two security guards

Rowan has your schedule, so he should’ve been free. But alas, the buzzard was stuck in meetings with your sister

Uncle Gav was out doing you have no idea what, Lorcan was home with Elide, and Fenrys was away with Vaughn, who you still haven’t actually laid eyes on by the way

You opted to take two of your normal guards to escort you

But without Rowan to walk them through security protocols you were walking around without knowing about any threats

Everything was going smooth. You made it to the school, your talk with the children went very well! They loved to hear stories from you about the Queen and King. They loved to play with you and tell you anything that pops into their little heads

It wasn’t until you were on the way back to the castle that trouble found you

Your carriage was stopped abruptly, the horses neighing and rearing up on their hind legs at the danger in the middle of the road

“Stay here, princess!” Your guards shout, leaving you alone closed in the carriage. You weren’t afraid at first. Not until you heard shouting and fighting. You couldn’t hear much. The men who stopped you were a small group. They wanted revenge on Aelin for killing Dorian’s father. Who know loyalists to the former King of Adarlan were around

Before things could escalate further a flash of white light had you shielding your eyes as you peer out the window, the men thudding against the ground

“Take them to the prison!” You had never been so relieved to hear Rowan’s voice. You stayed locked in the carriage until he came and got you

When Rowan opens the door you fling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him neck. “I have never been so grateful for you not minding your business.” Your brother laughs, hugging you back. “Let’s get you home, Aelin has been worried.”

[erissheiress]

I Swear It

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings: 1 swear word, implications of postpartum depression (barely mentioned), Beron (barely), angst, arguing, happy ending

Summary: Eris has been on a mission for a while, and comes back to find his family struggling. (Also introduction of my child OC's)

Word Count: 1421

Taglist: @reetriestbr @pandabiiissh

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Your mother in law sat before you, cradling her youngest grandchild in her arms. The fire was dying slowly, but neither of you paid it much attention, instead letting it gradually fade by itself. Winter had arrived and made its presence known immediately, barely allowing time for the Autumn Court to transition into the colder months. Cold days like this were more suited for staying indoors by the fire with those you love, drinking mugs of hot chocolate or tea, and quietly basking in each other's presence.

You watched your baby coo softly in her grandmother’s arms, her little noises making your heart burst. In your own arms, your eldest two children nestled into your side, their fists clinging to your dress. The scene was almost perfect, besides lacking one detail. Your husband and your children’s father, Eris, had been away for weeks now, fulfilling his duties as Heir to the Autumn Court with his father.

Every night you'd go to bed alone, and wake up with two pairs of arms around you, little elbows prodding your stomach. Before, you would be awakened by gentle kisses on your skin, but now sleepy mumbling and soft cries pulled you from your slumber each morning.

You truly missed Eris, but had to get used to being without him for the time being. His absence was mostly felt through your children, when they'd seek your comfort, missing their father.

At least your youngest child, your darling girl, was unaffected, although the lack of a relationship between her and Eris worried you slightly, as he had to leave only a couple of months after her birth. She slept soundly across the room, and you pushed the worries to the back of your mind, lest they overwhelm you completely.

"Mama?" Your second child, Hugo, mumbled, rubbing his bleary eyes with his fist. 

"Yes, my love?"

"Is Daddy home yet?"

Across from you, your mother in law quietly sighed, knowing what your answer would be. She knew all too well what an absent father did to a young child.

"Not yet, baby, soon." You brushed a hand over his red curls, an inherited gift from his father.  Hugo just nodded, burrowing further into your side. In the distance, a grandfather clock chimed, and you took a deep breath.

"Time for bed, I think." 

Maeve and Hugo couldn't even argue, too worn out from their snow day, bellies full of hot chocolate, marshmallows, and gingerbread. Slowly you sat up, pulling Hugo into your arms, and holding Maeve's hand to guide her to her own bed. They kissed their grandmother and their baby sister, before allowing themselves to be put to bed by you.

"G'night, Mama."

"Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, my loves." Quietly slipping out, and back down the corridor. The Lady of the Autumn Court was standing now, smiling down at baby Alysa. 

"I think it's time for me to retire as well, love," She said, carefully handing you your daughter.

"Of course, sleep well." You kissed her cheek and watched her leave, leaving you alone with Alysa in the firelit room. "I think it's time we go, princess, don't you agree?" Her nose twitched in her sleep and your heart grew in size.

"I'll take that as a yes then. You've had a long, hard day." You continued to whisper to her as you walked down the corridor, nonsensical comments. Talking to your baby was supposed to improve their speech in the future, you had read, and you found yourself enjoying your one-sided chats with your daughter. Especially when she gazed up at you with those beautiful, familiar eyes. 

The fire was lighting in your room, a maid clearly having just been there, for which you were grateful. Slowly, you lowered her into her bassinet, stroking her soft cheeks.

The door opened softly. Quiet footsteps. You didn't turn around.

"How is she sleeping?" Eris' voice was quiet in the dimly lit room.

"Fine, she sleeps through the night, thankfully."

"I'll get her if she does wake up."

"She doesn't like strangers." A low blow, but necessary. Where was Eris when Alysa cried her tiny lungs out and Hugo and Maeve cried from the overwhelming noise? Where was he when you were so exhausted and overwhelmed that you sobbed into your pillow in the early days of his departure, or when the postpartum feelings lasted longer than they had after your first two births.

"I'm not a stranger…"

"You held her as a newborn, she won't remember you. She barely tolerates the maids that have been there since her birth."

"Darling…" a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.

"What, Eris? What do you want me to say? That I missed you? That I was drowning when you left? You cannot just return all of a sudden and expect things to be as they were. Maeve and Hugo miss you desperately, Alysa doesn't know you, and I… "

"And you?"

"I needed you." Your voice was barely audible as you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “This recovery…has not been like the others. Your father-”

“What about him? Has he done something?” Eris’ eyes flamed, his mind clearly racing with possibilities of his father’s actions.

“No, Eris, he has not. He visited after you left, to see the children. Hugo received most of his attention, of course. Called him your heir.”

“He knows that Maeve is my heir. She is the eldest.”

“It hardly matters. Hugo is a male, and that is all Beron sees. Otherwise, his visit was fine. Nice to have company, no matter how awful the person.” Another earned blow.

“I will see him.”

“So he can give you another reason to leave?”

“Y/N, please, I had no choice.”

“I know that! You had no choice, I’m fucking aware, what I’m frustrated about is that you expect things to be the same as they were. Did you think I would not be angry?” 

Alysa stirred, making soft noises in her sleep, reminding you to keep your voice down. 

“I will make it up to you. To our children.”

A wave of exhaustion washed over you. Exhaustion, frustration, and also acceptance. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

Eris looked uncertain, standing in his own room. “May I-”

“I don’t care, Eris, sleep wherever you want. She’ll wake in a few hours to be fed, anyway.”

“My love, I can’t sleep if you are upset with me.”

“I’m just tired. So, so tired. Goodnight, Eris.”

No more was said, sleep hitting you almost immediately, the exhaustion of motherhood more powerful than your frustration. When Alysa awoke, Eris was not in the room.

. . . 

For the first time in a while, you woke up in an empty bed. Alysa cried softly, soothing easily once you picked her up from her crib and put her to your breast. You quietly walked down the corridor, to your children’s shared room, until they get older. 

Eris was in Maeve’s bed, his tall body barely fitting in her small bed. She was held tight in his arms, as Hugo lay on Eris’ strong chest. The three of them slept soundly. Alysa’s cry made Eris’ eyes flutter, making eye contact with you. 

“You look comfortable.”

“So comfortable,” he said, looking the exact opposite. “I went to Beron last night.”

“You did?”

“No more missions for a time, not until I make up for my actions. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you after Alysa, I’m sorry that she doesn’t know me. Please, my love, not sleeping with you was torture.” He got up slowly, careful not to wake up Maeve or Hugo. Walking to you, holding your face in his calloused palms.

“I needed you…” gradually the wall began to crumble, as tears began to stream down your face. You held your baby girl close, a protection of sorts.

Eris looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I have failed you, without a doubt. I will make it up to you, my love, if you’ll let me.”

He took Alysa from your arms, carefully holding her in one arm, using the other to pull you in close. “A second did not pass where I did not think of you. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, stay.”

“I will, my love, I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

“I love you.” Wiping the tears from your face, looking up at your mate, the father of your children.

“I love you too, darling. I am yours forever. I swear it.”

[pathologicalreid]

of you dont mind, could you give us a season-based timeline of spencer and jureau!reader's relationship? like when they first started dating, married, etc.?

thank you!

i've done part of this before so if it seems familiar it's because i copied and pasted it lol!! jareau!reader lore from season 4-15+ below.

so technically, the first time they ever cross paths is in season 4 when Henry is born. obviously, it makes sense for j!reader to be there especially since she went to Georgetown. they don't officially meet until season 6 when reader takes JJ's spot on the team (but as a profiler) so in this specific AU, Seaver doesn't exist.

reader is 100% already smitten from the moment she meets him, but there's always this omnipresent fear of ruining the team dynamic or whatever reason reader can come up with. so in season 6 she actually gets a boyfriend, but her and Spencer remain really close friends throughout. he's also going through his whole migraine thing at the time. and then we hit the Lauren arc. i cannot disclose a lot about this because it may or may not be getting it's own fic, but they lean on each other heavy during that time.

in season 7 we obviously start with Spencer being an absolute dweeb to JJ, putting reader in the middle of it. again, i cannot disclose exactly what happens here, because it will potentially be in it's own fic. within season 7 reader breaks up with her bf and Spencer comforts her because they ended on bad terms, but Spencer is so heinously down bad for this girl that he doesn't even care that he's comforting her over another guy. there's a lot of like build up to this and they're kind of stuck in this "will they? wont they?" limbo and they're scared of ruining their friendship. when the bomb goes off in the season 7 finale, reader's in the building and Spencer freaks. they start dating shortly after JJ's wedding (which is why the line “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.” from the ffofa 1 is so important).

that more or less brings us to season 8. home run takes place following "god complex" where they're dating and so stupid in love. their relationship is a secret at first, until lock and key happens and they come clean to everyone. i also feel it goes without saying that Maeve doesn't exist in this AU. they move in together during season 8 and they just coexist for the majority of 8, 9, and 10 because the seasons that come at traumatizing. there's also the lost daughter in season 9 and for the season 9 finale reader has a full fledged breakdown when Spencer is shot in the neck <333 but central nervous system takes place in season 10. around the end of season 10 they're talking about maybe getting married but i squash their dreams come season 11.

in season 11 there's the dirty dozen arc and Diana's Alzheimers diagnosis which puts a hold on their future plans. they're long distance while Spencer is with his mom in Las Vegas and they adopt a "one step at a time" mindset.

season 12!!! a big one for sure. reader does not agree with Spencer bringing his mom home to stay with them but she respects his decision even though it brings some issues to their relationship. she's mad at him for lying when he goes to Mexico but is obviously worried about his well-being. she helps him decide how he wants to plea. they write each other while he's in prison but she doesn't visit. they have a very wholesome reunion, she goes with him and JJ to confront Cat, and Spencer loses his mind when the team is in that car accident at the end of the season.

Spencer does not think he's going to be reinstated in season 13 but she hypes him up and when she's in town and he's on sabbatical she goes to his lectures to support him. she gets fired by Linda Barnes and does something similar to what Tara does because her background is in psych. my girl jareau!reader fully crashes out when Spencer and Penelope are kidnapped at the end of season 13 - another trauma that limits their ability to move forward with their relationship because they want to be in the right headspace <3

they do a lot of minding their own business in season 14, which makes sense because there's a lot going on with the rest of the team. that all leads up to the season 14 finale which, of course, is the beginning of for the fear of falling apart and takes us through season 15. they get married following the series finale.

post-series, neither of them fully go back to the BAU. Spencer consults and teaches and reader consults and goes back to working in psych. they have the cutest most wonderful family ever and i love them.

[cheezihouse]

Hello hello. I would like to ask about your favorite couples! What’s their dynamics like? What were they like before they were a couple? And what do you think works best for them?

Hello hellooo!!

Tbh out of all my character couples, my fave are definitely Maeve and Zephyr! They’re a rare indulgence on this page sometimes, but I always love them!!

Also I’m a HUGE sucker for size difference/size difference preg. An 8’3 momma with the 5’4 papa carrying? Mathematically, those babies range around 11-16lbs each and I’m a sucker for big babies as well. Like, it’s the best of both worlds <3

So I had to draw him dealing with some active twins. Flips? Kicks? He’ll never know

Ramble belowww

A big momma just dotting over her small husband who looks like he was due months ago? But really he still has weeks to go? Sign me up.

One, I love my t4t couple- just one of my faves. They fit so well with each other, especially with how they just understand each other and feel so comfortable.

Their dynamic is definitely outspoken x soft spoken. Maeve usually does sign or talks quietly, she’s not shy- it’s just her preferred method! Zephyr will definitely resort to raising his voice in some situations- but never with his wife.

Before being a couple, Zephyr is framed for a crime in his district- Maeve is the district leader who isn’t really sure he did the crime. Behind closed doors, without her input to the other leaders, him and the party would’ve been charged and locked up. She would’ve just resumed her normal life after that.

Tbh I think their opposite personalities is what works so well for them! They almost merge in a way. They know when one of them needs to approach or step into a situation, they can nearly read each other before one even speaks. I just love themmm <3



[reiderwriter]

Unlovable

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reider Warnings: angst, canon death, cheating, implied infidelity, whump, angst, spoilers for Season 8 of Criminal Minds, mentions of shooting/ murder/ suicide/ general case facts. Summary: A stalking case brings back some bad memories for the BAU, but as the newbie, you're not sure why until you start recalling past case files you've read through. A/N: I wrote this as part of @tobias-hankel 's Pre-Whumptober Challenge, so it's short and sweet because I'm not great at angst, but it was a great challenge! I think this will probably be my last fic that mentions Maeve for at least a while because I'm getting a bit bored of writing around her lol, but let me know what you think with a like, comment, reblog, or message in my inbox!

It had been a few months since you’d joined the team, and you’d really thought you’d settled in well. After all, you’d worked on enough of their paperwork in your prior desk job to think you had a good grasp of everyone on the team’s working styles.

Until this case. They’d all been tense since the stalking case was called in, and you couldn’t figure out why. A girl had been taken captive by her stalker, whose identity had been so far unknown to the police department. As you sat talking through the possible suspects, you’d realized suddenly that you were the newcomer, an outsider in the team.

“Why is everyone so tense, we’ve worked cases like this one before, we can do this and save her.” You were hopeful of course, looking around the room to see if anyone else would agree.

“Each case is different, Y/N, you know that.” Morgan was the only one to reply, the others shooting careful glances around the room.

“But everyone is so tense for this one specifically, and I just don’t get it.”

“You read our case files, right?” Reid spoke up from the other side of the room. He’d been particularly tense on this one, and it was really his attitude that was worrying you the most. You’d become fast friends with him when you joined the team, and he was always happy and engaging with you. But there was something about this case that made him cold and distant and it was really rubbing you the wrong way.

“Yeah, I read all of them, but I don’t have an eidetic memory, so please, catch me up.”

“Maeve Donovan, does that ring a bell?” He almost spat the words out, but you were so thankful that he was even talking to you that you responded enthusiastically.

“Oh, of course, I read that case file. She was killed by her stalker, right? But we can’t base every case off our bad experiences, especially since that case had unforeseen circumstances.”

“Y/N,” Morgan gently warned you, but you were deaf to him as your eyes locked on Reid.

“Unforeseen circumstances?”

“She engaged in a relationship with an FBI Agent to help prioritize her case despite the fiance she had, which made her hard to track down to help. And her stalker was experiencing some serious delusions so you couldn’t stop her from killing both of them, but that’s a single case, and you’ve all worked at least ten other stalking cases in the past.

The air was sucked out of the room as Spencer stormed out, not bothering to tell you where you’d gone wrong. JJ trailed behind after him, going to pick up the pieces as the rest of them stared at you pityingly.

“Did I- Did I say something wrong?” You asked, but most of them just shook their heads and walked out.

“The agent she was dating was Reid. He offered to die instead of her, but that set her stalker off and that’s why she killed the both of them.” With each of Morgan’s words, you felt your heart drop.

“I didn’t-” You started but he cut you off with a pat on your shoulder.

“None of us were the greatest fans of Maeve after our investigation, but you weren’t here after she died. The kid was in pieces, and he still can’t really talk about it without some of those emotions creeping back in. Just… be a bit more understanding.”

You spend the rest of the case trying to apologize to Reid, but he avoids you like the plague, frustrating you to no end. You corner him one night on the way to his room, but he snaps at you with such violence you have to turn and run away before you let yourself cry in front of him.

Your resentment for Maeve grows as you watch him work though, seeing him become an empty shell of a man as he gets lost in his memory trying to save the new victim. You’re angry that she died, angry that she put him in that position, angry that no one forced him off the case, that no one foresaw the negative effect that this would have on him when it ended badly. You’re angry that she loved him first because your heart aches without his company.

Thankfully, the case ends well, and you manage to save the girl who has been abducted. You don’t even want to think about what that would mean for Reid, having to see the dead body of another girl knowing he couldn’t save them either. He practically runs off the jet when you land back at Quantico as you try, once again, to apologize.

Penelope comforts you at your desk as you cry, desperate to make things right. She’s the one who slips you his address, and not even an hour later, you feel like a shell of a person driving directly there, not stopping to worry about whether he’ll even see you.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t look surprised to see you. He doesn’t look anything at all, emotionally drained from the last week. You thought you would apologize right then and there, and leave, but he turns back into his apartment and you have to follow him in, saying nothing as he sets himself beside a chessboard again.

“Spencer…” you start, but you have to stop to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “I didn’t know you were the agent. I wouldn’t have said what I did had I known.”

“Would you still think it?” He asked sharply, and you can feel the anger in his voice. He’s trying to control it, but he’s never been the best at masking his emotions with his team members.

“Spencer, please, I’m trying to apologize.”

“Would you have looked at me with pitying eyes? The FBI Agent who couldn’t even save his girlfriend from a stalker. The girlfriend who probably didn’t even love him either because what is there to love about-”

“Spencer! Stop putting words in my mouth.” Your tone is harsh but it gets him to finally look up at you. His tone was angry, but his eyes were all despair, shining with tears as he tried, so hard, to pull himself together. He’s failing.

“Why am I so unlovable? What about me is so difficult to love?” Your heart breaks at his words. The way he says it sounds like he is genuinely searching for an answer, his eyes darting between your own as his body sinks in on itself, and you sink with him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

“Nothing. Nothing, Spencer, you are so loved. You need to know that I love you, that we all love you, Spencer.” Your voice breaks a little at your confession, as you suddenly realize how true those words are.

“But she still died. I had to have done something wrong, but I play it back again in my head, every conversation and-” he breaks down in sobs then, his entire body shaking with the weight of his grief. The wound isn’t new but it runs deep, and you quietly sob beside him, knowing no matter how much you love him it won’t be enough to replace the love he lost with her.

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter One

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter One Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 4867 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue

~~~

In the bedroom of his apartment, Spencer fiddled with his tie as he looked in the mirror. He didn't know why he bothered though, it was always perpetually crooked. Something you always tease him about.

Teased.

He clenched his jaw at your memory. It had been eleven months since you'd left. Eleven. Months. You just... up and disappeared without a call or a note. Heck, he would've taken a text despite his adversity to how it was inevitably devolving people's interpersonal communication skills.

When he'd shown up to the office on Monday, he expected to see your dazzling figure with two coffees in hand - one for yourself and one for him - and that infamous bright smile on your lips. He hated to admit it, but he'd become reliant on you to always be there. You had only joined three years after he had, around a similar to time to Emily (who had been like a big sister to you), but even after others came and went, you had always stayed.

You had stayed with him. By him. He selfishly thought sometimes it was for him.

So when Hotch had informed him and the rest of the team that you had been offered another position with a different unit across the country, he shouldn't have been all that surprised that you had jumped at the chance to do something more than what you were doing at the BAU.

Again, selfishly, he thought that what you both did would be enough for you. It was for him.

He should've been happy for you despite how shocking the news came. But instead he was struck with an odd sense of open-endedness - no closure. If you were leaving, you would've said something... right? He wasn't the best at recognising social cues or reading people's emotions, but he couldn't have mistaken the smile you'd given him when he'd asked you out that night. It was joyous, it was relief, it was overwhelming excitement for the future. There could've been no faking that you felt what he felt and wanted what he wanted.

His fingers dropped from his tie, seeing no point in trying to fix it any further. Instead, his gaze drifted to his hair. It was long again, unruly curls caressing the top of his neck and tucked as neatly as possible behind his ears. You would always play with those curls as you gave him head massages when he was having his migraines, and kept the habit up whenever Spencer was stressed or tired. It helped him relax, it soothed him.

The image of you pouting whenever he got his hair cut short and close-cropped tugged his lips slightly upwards. He smoothed back the curls on his forehead. He had a random thought to just shave them all off. They were just another reminder of how much time had passed since you'd left.

He raised an eyebrow at himself in the mirror.

He wondered if he could rock the bald egg look.

He grimaced at the thought and shook his head. What the hell am I doing? He rubbed at his tired eyes before looking at his wrist watch briefly. He had to be in the office in just over an hour. So he quickly grabbed a suit jacket from his closet, but decided halfway to the kitchen that he would need extra warmth today and so turned around to grab a cardigan from his messy chest of draws.

He winced at the chaos of colours and material he found waiting for him. For a highly organised, intelligent man, he really could be a complete mess.

He wasn't looking for any particular one, but he absentmindedly sought out the regal navy blue one you'd gifted to him on one birthday. It was the most worn in his collection by far, having worn it multiple times a week (sometimes even consecutively) in the past eleven months. He fiddled with the soft material for a moment, and he swore he could still smell your perfume on it.

Vanilla Caramel and Peonies. An odd combination, but just the right balance of sweetness and freshness.

It was the right balance of you.

She's not coming back, he told himself, and his broken heart yearned for what could've been once more. He'd called you - well, tried calling you - for days, weeks, months even after you'd left. But he'd just go straight to voice mail, and you had never tried to call him back. It was like six years of working together had never happened, like they had never mattered.

Like he had never mattered.

He shook his head and dropped the cardigan in favour of an emerald green one that his mother had just sent him from one of her travels. It was oddly cold compared to yours, but at least he knew where his mother was and that he was on her mind, no mattered how disorganised it had become.

He wondered if he was still on your mind, wherever you were.

It didn't take him long to put on the green cardigan, grab his lunch from the fridge - it was just leftover Chinese from the takeout place down the street - and lock his apartment up before making his way to work. The drive to the FBI Head Quarters in Quantico was its usual, monotonous route, making it to the highly secured facility in under an hour. He entered the bullpen and went straight for his desk first, placing his satchel bag on it before heading for his safe haven - the break room.

They'd just closed a case yesterday and so he expected to be filling out a lot of reports today. Thus the reason for the copious amounts of sugar in his coffee he was currently making.

'Whoa! Talk about having a sweet tooth. Save some for the rest of us, Reid.'

Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Kate Callahan walking through the door into the break room, an amused and slightly baffled expression morphing her gentle features as she eyed Spencer's coffee making. She walked over beside him to grab a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee from the freshly brewed pot beside Spencer.

Spencer spared her a tight-lipped smile. Not long after you had left, so did Alex. It was like a double blow to Spencer's trust system, with two pillars of reliance being taken away so quickly and without warning. Kate had joined the team soon after that, and Spencer was glad to see the past few months that Kate had slotted in with the team just as nicely.

But she sadly couldn't fill the you-shaped hole in his heart.

'Sorry,' he said, putting the sugar container down finally and began to mix what he could in with the hot coffee. 'Our days started earlier when I first started, and normal coffee just never did the trick for me. Now I can't have it any other way but tooth-rottingly sweet.'

She chuckled as she placed the pot down and drank it straight - no creamer or sugar or milk at all. 'Doesn't worry me. I'm a true espresso gal, but I think Morgan may have some issues if all the sugar somehow disappears.'

'I won't tell if you won't,' Spencer offered, tapping the spoon on the cup's edge before placing it in the sink. He took a tentative sip from the hot drink, and relished at the sweetness that warmed his throat.

Kate winked as she took a sip from her own coffee. 'It'll be our little secret.'

Before either could make a move to return to their desks - where no doubt towers of paperwork were waiting for them - the bright, colourful figure that was Penelope Garcia stopped by the doorway. 'Good morning, my beautiful people,' she said by way of greeting, although her smile didn't reach her eyes like usual. 'I know you all just got back but we've got another case. Roundtable when you're ready.'

Kate sighed with exhaustion but Spencer nodded his understanding. Paperwork soothed him, but he didn't necessarily want to be soothed right now. He wanted action, a distraction, something to physically do. Anything to take his mind off you.

'Looks like paperwork will have to wait,' he said, bounding after Penelope with Kate in tow.

'Don't sound so happy about a dead body, Reid,' Kate suggested.

'You don't know it's dead body,' he argued as he swung by his desk to grab his bag and rejoin Kate to walk towards the Roundtable Room, all the while not spilling his coffee. 'Statistically, it is more likely that there are multiple dead bodies involved considering we don't get called in for singular homicide events very often unless it's a high profile victim, in which case the unsub could be a highly trained assassin or of military background. But those statistics are another collection of data unrelated to serial killing, so it's more likely the case involves a serial killer, and therefore multiple dead bodies.'

The two of them entered the Roundtable Room to find the rest of the team already seated and Penelope standing in front of the screen, ready to present.

'What are we talking about?' JJ asked.

Before Spencer could answer, Kate cut in with, 'You don't want to go down that rabbit hole.'

'Okay, my pretties,' Penelope started, clicking a button to start the presentation. Three pictures of women appeared on the screen, alongside birth certificates and a picture of their dead body. 'We have three dead women: Anna Carswell, Petrina Summers, and Larissa Pembroke; and as you can tell from the pictures, their deaths were very messy. There are signs of sexual violence from what remains of their... um... mutilated nether regions.'

'They were stabbed?' Kate asked, her face pinching with disgust and sadness for the women. Spencer didn't blame her. There was blood everywhere including the walls of the dumpsters they were found in. It was enough to make him squeamish; he couldn't imagine what Kate, JJ and Penelope were possibly feeling.

Penelope nodded grimly. 'Yeah. Anna Carswell was the first victim and was only stabbed five times, but the others both have twelve stab wounds each.'

'So much rage...' JJ mused softly as she examined the pictures.

'That,' Derek started, 'or twelve is a significant number for the unsub.'

'Or he's trying to send a message to someone,' Hotch added. 'Look at her clothes, her shoes, makeup and hair.'

Spencer narrowed his eyes to inspect each area individually, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what Hotch was talking about. 'Styled or big hair; tight-fitting tops, skirts and dresses that leave little to the imagination; significantly high heels; and bold jewellery and makeup,' Spencer listed his observations pragmatically before looking away from the screen to address the others properly. 'I don't want to stereotype, but my guess is that they're prostitutes.'

'And boy wonder wins this round of Guess Who,' Penelope announced. 'All of them worked as prostitutes at popular establishments around Manhattan, but they were so far strung that local police didn't put the killings together until Larissa's body was found last night. The first victim was killed six months ago, but Petrina and Larissa make two in the last month.

'That's a bit of an escalation for the unsub,' Rossi finally said, having been quietly contemplating since Spencer walked in. 'Why the sudden increase in kill time, do you think?'

'Maybe he's impotent,' JJ offered. 'Maybe Anna Carswell was just an accident - see, look at the jagged and varied placement of the stab wounds. And for the past few months he's been trying to repress the urge to kill again, and some recent event has been his stressor.'

'JJ's right, Petrina and Larissa's stab wounds are cleaner, intentional. He's perfecting his craft,' Kate stated.

'Who called it in?' Derek asked.

'The first two victims were found by dumpster guys picking up the trash, but Larissa was found by a homeless man trying to find some food,' Penelope said. 'Local authorities have all callers in at their main office and are expecting you within the next two hours.'

'We'll keep debriefing on the plane,' Hotch said as he stood up, tablet in hand. 'Wheels up in twenty.'

Suddenly his phone pinged, and he took a quick glance at it, his face turning grim.

'What is it, Aaron?' Rossi asked.

Hotch pocketed his phone as he said, 'That was the New York FBI office. They've found another body. Wheels up in ten.'

~~~

Spencer stood across from the coroner with the latest victim's body laying between them.

Roxy Vega. Sounded fake, but that's who her brothel manager identified her as. She was the one to call Roxy in, but said that one of her girls was the one to find her. Spencer and Morgan were to go talk to her and the manager after looking at the body.

'She's the same as the others, poor thing,' the coroner said, her brow scrunching with displeasure. 'Stabbed to death. Twelve, to be exact.'

'Anything from the toxicology report?' Derek asked.

She shook her head. 'Hasn't come back yet, but I can guess she'll be like the others too and be clean. People think prostitutes would be similar to junkies, but the truth is it's usually whoever they're serving that put something in their system to... elevate the experience.'

Spencer and Derek must've been pulling shocked expressions, because she chuckled, putting her clipboard down on a table beside her. 'I used to do some escorting myself to help pay off medical school before I got this job. Nothing extreme like these girls, but the same principles applied.'

Spencer gave her a tight-lipped smile before pointing at the sheet. 'If you don't mind, can I look at the wounds myself?'

'Sure,' the coroner said, and delicately manoeuvred the white sheet covering Roxy so that it covered her upper body still. Even the dead deserved some modesty.

But Spencer wasn't perturbed by her female genitalia. He was more interested in the twelve stab wounds that scarred her lower abdomen and pelvic area. Six side by side in each area.

'That's odd,' he murmured to himself.

But Derek heard him. 'What is?'

Spencer hovered his pointer finger over each wound. 'Look at these,' he said. 'They're almost exactly parallel to one another, all in a row. And the cuts are all the same length, too.'

'Well that rules out our unsub being rageful,' Derek added. 'If he was angry when he killed them, the wounds would no doubt be all over the place, and varied in length if he did it in a frenzy.'

'So our unsub is cool, calm and collected,' Spencer mused, but something still didn't add up. 'There is almost something ritualistic about the placement. Like it's a symbol.'

'Well, he's definitely trying to send a message then,' Derek said, eyes drifting back to Roxy laying on the table. 'But who is it for?'

'And has it been heard yet?' Spencer added. The buzz of his phone prompted him to pull it out of his coat pocket and answer the call.

'Hotch,' he answered. 'Morgan and I have just finished at the morgue. The lines on the latest victim suggests that these could be ritualistic killings or a message to someone or even a group. The stabs were clean so the girls, well Roxy at least, would've been restrained or knocked unconscious before they were stabbed.'

'That changes the profile from a raging serial killer to someone who had these killings premeditated,' Hotch concluded. 'Good work, you two. Head down to the brothel to see the manager and the co-worker who found her. Local authorities took their statements but maybe they know more than they think or are letting on.'

'Okay,' Spencer agreed. 'What are you guys doing?'

'JJ and Kate are talking with the victim's families one at a time and Dave and I are at the headquarters talking with the officers and detectives who started this case. I'll ask them if they noticed the stab wound patterns, see if it means anything to them.'

'We'll call JJ and tell her the same,' Spencer said. 'Maybe the unsub is taunting the parents somehow and the key is in the stab wounds.'

'Okay. Call back when you're done.'

'Got it.'

Spencer hung up and turned to the coroner. 'Thanks so much for your help. If you could send that M.E. report to our unit chief, that'd be most helpful.'

'Of course,' she said, offering a kind smile. 'I'll keep looking for other anomalies, particularly if you think they were somehow restrained or unconscious before they were stabbed.'

'The mass blood spillage was just for show,' Derek said. 'I have a bad feeling these girls weren't stumbled upon by accident. There's more to this, and whoever these stab wounds were meant to warn is the key to solving who is behind all of this.'

Spencer quickly thanked the coroner for her time before he and Derek were out the door and in an SUV driving to downtown Manhattan to the brothel.

The Chateau, despite its name, was just a small sign hanging above a door that needed a fresh coat of paint about ten years prior. No doubt the sign would light up neon at night to draw in the locusts that were cheating husbands or deadbeat wannabes. But it was located on a busy street, and daylight made it look unassuming compared to the big billboards and towering office buildings around it. Just a hole in the wall, really.

'This place looks like a dump already,' Derek said as they examined the outside. Posters advertising all kinds of entertainment from the establishment were pinned to billboards either side of the door and down the wall where people stood in line to get in perhaps. But they were torn, like flyers from a travelling circus long ago.

'That's probably a strategic method,' Spencer said. 'It's what many opium dens in Shanghai used to do back in the 1920s to avoid law enforcement suspicion. Of course, brothels and even opium dens are legal today, but they now act as the fronts for more illicit dealings.'

'Right,' Derek said, reaching out for the door handle tentatively. 'Let's just hope that isn't the case today. We've got enough to worry about with four dead girls let alone some underground, black market bullshit.'

Derek wasted no more time in opening the door and stepping inside, Spencer right on his heels. But as soon as the daylight faded and their eyes readjusted, they both gaped at what met them inside.

Lavish gold and black velvet carpet lined the floors, swirling in intricate, flowery designs that made Spencer feel dizzy for a second. A settee sat to their left in a small alcove where gold curtains were pulled back, but Spencer took a guess as to why they would be closed at certain points. All the furniture were beautifully crafted pieces with a black gloss layer and gold lining certain edges that sparkled in the low light from the victorian style lamps hanging on the walls.

It scared Spencer how accurate he had sort of been. It felt like he was in a 1920s film noir club where gangsters met up to make and complete deals. Where they smoked cigars, and the showgirls wore sparkly, frilly, feathery dresses and patterned pantyhose. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew it was a brothel, that the gold and sparkles were just a front, but he couldn't help but be impressed by the attention to detail. Right down to the artwork that hung on the walls, all of which were from famous painters from the time period.

'They're amazing, aren't they?'

Spencer spun alongside Derek at the new, commanding voice that entered the room, and found a woman in her late forties to early fifties standing by a podium where the registry would no doubt sit each night for customers to sign in and out of. He had to give it to the establishment, it was committed to the act.

'Y-Yes,' he stuttered an answer, looking back at the painting in front of him. 'It looks like- I'm sorry, but are these the real thing?'

She laughed heartily as she sashayed over to them, the bellowing arms of her white, silk sleeves flowing gracefully with her movements. 'Goodness, no. The real ones are more than likely in a museum somewhere or hanging above the bed of some rich bimbo who doesn't understand what it is or who even painted it.' Despite the malice in her words, her red lips parted in a sultry grin. 'But alas, these do just fine. As do you, might I say.'

Spencer didn't like how her eyes raked over him and Derek ever so slowly, like she was some predator contemplating what part of her prey she should consume first. This is what JJ, Kate and Penelope must feel most of the time, he thought, averting his eyes as best as possible from the woman's snake-like ones.

He decidedly did not like the feeling it gave him.

Sensing his partner's discomfort, Derek reached into his jean pocket and pulled out his badge. 'Thank you, but we're here on official business only today.'

Those snake-eyes latched onto the badge, and it only took her half a second for her sultry smile to drop and to cross her arms. But not out of embarrassment, more like how a child did when they didn't get what they want. 'So you're the FBI agents I was told was visiting me today. How charming.' She held out hand to Derek, and Spencer couldn't help but notice how bare it was compared to rest of her. Long dangling emeralds hung from her ears, matching the beautiful emerald necklace around her neck. But no rings, or bracelets.

Odd.

'I'm Madame Lacroix,' she said, Derek finally taking her hand. 'I am the manager of The Chateau.'

She held her hand out to Spencer, to which he awkwardly splayed his hands up by his chest in a mock surrender. 'I, uh, actually don't do handshakes, sorry. Just a personal thing.'

Madame Lacroix looked him up and down from over her nose, which was an impressive act as she stood a good head shorter than him. After a moment, she dropped her hand and the matter, turning back to Derek once more.

'Madame,' Derek started. 'We just want to ask a few questions about Roxy Vega. We understand she was... one of your own for a while now. Is that correct?'

'Yes,' she answered, her painted face taking on a contemplative, even fond expression at the mention of Roxy. 'She'd been with us around eleven months. Some of the girls were supposed to take her out this coming weekend to celebrate. Geez, did those girls love partying.'

'How so?' Spencer inquired.

That snake-like gaze whipped back to him in an instant. 'They would have weekends away once every couple of months. Fancy yachts, expensive clothes, gourmet restaurants. One time, they went to the Greek Isles for a week.' She shrugged nonchalantly. 'But they could always pay for it. My girls are the best at what they do. So much so they are able to pay me and keep a good amount of earnings for themselves. And before you ask, everything is perfectly legal here, I have papers.'

'We're not really interested in that, Madame Lacroix,' Derek continued. 'You say Roxy was part of a, shall we say, an exclusive group in your establishment.'

'If you're implying that I play favourites, I don't, agent,' Madame Lacroix said, her tone dancing with silent threat. 'All my girls work the same hours, and relatively earn the same amount. It's completely on them if they decide to form friendships or alliances wth one another.'

'Was the girl who found her in that group too?' Spencer asked for Derek.

She nodded. 'Usually, Roxy and her girls don't let newcomers into their group. And if they do, it's not until they're a few months into working here. But yeah, Serena was pulled into that group from the moment she got here only three months ago.'

'Do you know where she was before The Chateau?' Derek asked.

'Yeah, she was uptown at a strip club, Guilty Pleasure. I know the guy who runs the place, and I don't blame her for leaving.'

Guilty Pleasure. The name rung familiar with Spencer, and so he pulled Derek away a little to whisper in his ear. 'That's the club Larissa used to work at.'

'And what are the odds that Larissa is now dead?' Derek added, eyes lighting with recognition. He quickly turned back to Madame Lacroix, urgency written on his face. 'Madame, there have been three other girls found in similar fashions to Roxy.'

For the first time since she entered the room, she didn't appear in control of everything happening. Her face dropped and a look of confusion and shock reflected in her eyes. 'Three other girls? Oh my goodness...'

'If you'd like, we can continue this talk in your office?' Derek offered, to which she nodded and began walking towards the podium, which Spencer now realised was in front of twin staircases heading downwards either side.

'I usually conduct private business at night, so my office is down in the Pit where I can make sure my girls are okay,' she explained as they descended into the a dimly lit bar reminiscent of the roaring 20s.

A giant glass chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, providing enough light to see the retro bar to the left, the cabaret setup of chairs and tables that faced the small stage at the far end of the room, and the empty booths where more settees and lounges sat with curtains drawn back for now. Again, Spencer was struck by how much it felt like stepping back in time. It was truly impressive.

Spencer halted, however, when Madame Lacroix stopped and turned back to face them, genuine concern furrowing her perfectly plucked brows. 'You don't think Serena has anything to do with this. Do you?' she asked.

'We don't know that for certain,' Derek answered. 'But we would like to have a talk with her so we can start clearing up this mess. Do you know where we can find her?'

She nodded, then pointed to a door over their shoulders. 'She's here doing stocktake for me today, actually. She does so on occasion when my workmen are busy with other jobs. A load just came in this morning. You can found her sorting through it out back in the loading bay.'

'Thank you,' Spencer said before turning to speak with Derek. 'I'll go talk with her while you finish here.'

'Shout if something goes wrong, okay?' Derek warned, to which Spencer agreed and made his way to the back door.

He couldn't stop his nose from scrunching as the scent of rotten food and heavy alcohol wafted up it. Giant bins were pressed against the far corner of the loading bay, but it wasn't a very big room, so the smell was easily detected.

Looks like the stocktake room doubles as the bin room, he thought as he stepped further into the bay, where crates were stacked taller than him with food, glassware, alcohol. Amongst the stacks was a shuffling of feet, then a hard thud that resulted in a harsh cry and an 'Ouch!'

'Hello?' Spencer called out while searching his way through the stacks. What did a brothel need with so much stuff anyways? 'Serena?'

'Over here!' a heavy Brooklyn accent replied. Spencer followed the voice, finding a hunched over woman cradling her exposed toe. She wore burnt orange platform wedges with jeans and a white tank top that left little to the imagination of a one Dr. Spencer Reid. Her hair was a puffy mess of curls like the blowouts back in the 80s, and it was so big he couldn't see her face.

'Are you okay,' he said, rushing over to help, but she just held up a hand, her face still covered.

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, doll,' she replied hastily, shakily. 'Just hit my toe, is all.'

'Well, here, let me get you some ice-'

'That's not necessary, hun. Really.'

'Well, at least let me have a look at it. You might've gotten a splinter in it or-'

'Stop.'

He was already bending down when the word hit him. But not just the word, but the voice that came with it. It was different to the Brooklyn accent now. It was... familiar.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as familiarity turned into recognition; and when he looked up from his half-squat position, he froze where he was and stared. Because the woman he saw wasn't an unrecognisable face of some girl called Serena.

His mouth had gone dry at the shock, and so he gulped a few times, trying to find the words he'd been holding back for months. But instead, only one word came to the surface.

'Y/N?'