#alright wrong killer

[the-melancholic-human]

The infamous, long awaited, not once, but twice deleted… simon riley x single mom reader fic is finally here:

Simon riley can’t cook for the life of him. Every time he’s back home from deployment, he’ll just survive on instant noodles and canned beer for maybe a week and then he goes back to base and gladly munches on the prepackaged food they throw at him.

Truth is, it has always been like this, and he’s never seen anything wrong with it.

Until price told him that the next op will be in 3 months and this grown ass man shivered just thinking about eating shitty frozen food for 90 days straight.

He begged price, said he’d stay and clean up the base for free, anything! He’d do anything to stay! And price told him to ‘piss off for 12 weeks before he went insane’

Cut to simon, standing in the frozen goods isle, letting out a groan as he rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. And he angrily stomped towards the frozen bags on the shelves and dropped everything in sight into his cart, trying so hard not to puke at the mere thought of eating all of that junk. The thing is, he was so mad at that moment that if some poor soul approached him asking where the milk was, they’d get a box of frozen turkey legs shoved down their throat.

And you know, someone did approach him. And no, they got to live.

It was a tiny toddler, maybe around 5 or 6, wearing a purple tutu skirt, and she was holding a dino plushie to her chest, looking straight up at simon.

Picture this, a grown 6’2 man, muscular with tats and everything, looking down at a 5 year old girl with messy hair and yellow rain boots. They both looked so serious, none of them broke the eye contact, staring at each other with puzzled expressions.

Simon was about to continue shopping when he saw a woman running towards them, she dropped down to the ground, distressed and scared, tightly hugging the toddler. She whispered to the kid ‘why did you leave me, never do that to me ever again, mom was so scared’

And you know, he could���ve just walked away at that point. Of course, It was a heartwarming scene to behold, a mother finding their lost child, but god, simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling on the dirty in front of him, the way her eyes were glossy with tears, her cheeks slightly red from the tear stains and she was beautiful. Beautiful.

It had been years, if not decades, since the last that simon thought a human being was beautiful. He wasn’t used to the butterflies that were flying in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to react. So he sat down, next to her.

“Hey… t’s okay, don’t worry luv, you found her, alright?”

“I- she was holding my hand one second… and the next i couldn’t find her! I got so… scared, and she wasn’t anywhere, and i thought- i thought”

Simon wasn’t one for holding hands.

But he held her hand. He put his calloused pale hand over hers, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. He was dizzy, like he had been drinking bottles of cheap booze, but he didn’t feel sick like the way the cheap booze made him feel, he felt warm.

And with that, the woman looked up at him,

“Thank you? For, for-“

“I didn’ find her luv, you did, but y’welcome anyway”

He laughed out, trying to act like there weren’t fireworks exploding in his head just by looking at her eyes.

But she chuckled, she chuckled at him!

“Sorry i couldn’t help but notice… is that like 20-ish pizzas you’ve got?”

And she pointed at his cart, which had a huge pile of frozen pizzas stacked on top of each other. She giggled.

He cursed under his breath,

“Yea, i- long story, i… can’t cook?”

“Can’t cook? Cook food?”

He put his hand on his neck, rubbing the aching muscle, as he let out another sigh shaking his head.

“That… can’t be good for you, blood pressure is the silent killer after all”

“I know, i know, i-“

“I could… teach you how to cook?”

[teeramoonlover]

Knock, Knock

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher

(NSFW)

This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.

Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.

*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.

“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.

“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”

“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.

The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.

“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”

You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.

“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.

“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 

“Uhh, yeah.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.

“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”

“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  

“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”

“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.

The stranger hummed.

Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?

“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”

“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 

He chuckled darkly.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.

The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”

“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.

“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”

You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.

Shit. Wrong move.

You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.

“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”

“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”

You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.

“Knock. Knock.”

You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.

“Who’s there?”

You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  

Double. Shit.

“Johnny.” 

You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 

“Johnny where?”

“Clever girl. Guess.”

You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.

“The backyard.”

“Wrong.”

You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 

He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.

“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”

“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”

“I want you…to ride me.”

You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 

“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.

“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.

Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.

“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 

“Behind you.”

You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.

His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 

He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.

“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”

Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 

There’s two of them?!

You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 

The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.

You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 

A warning.

“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.

“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.

“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.

“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 

“So what? You gonna kill me?” 

“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.

You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    

Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.

"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 

Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.

"What do you mean?" You shuddered.

In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.

"You know what I meant."

Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?

You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.

You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 

“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 

You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.

“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.

“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.

“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.

Without thinking, you nodded at his words.

Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 

"Lift your hips for me, baby." 

He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 

He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.

A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.

"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.

"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.

You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.

As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.

Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.

"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 

You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.

You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.

He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.

"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.

"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 

He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.

You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.

"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 

You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.

You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.

"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.

"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.

"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."

The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 

"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"

"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."

"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"

"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 

They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.

You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 

Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.

"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.

"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.

Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.

The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.

You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.

"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.

"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.

As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.

"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.

"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 

"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 

As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.

"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.

"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."

You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 

This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.

Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 

You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 

He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.

His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.

You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.

The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.

“That’s my good girl.”

After you pass out…

“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.

“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.

“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.

Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.

And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.

[nottsangel]

ghostface!rafe cameron hcs !! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

moodboard . masterlist . warnings: smut 18+, murder, violence

ghostface!rafe cameron protecting you from the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town for weeks, telling you that he will be by your side no matter what, when he’s the killer.

“don’t be scared baby, you know i’ll take care of you, alright? i won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl”

ghostface!rafe cameron comforting you when one of your male friends dies, brutally slaughtered by the killer that he almost couldn’t be identified anymore, when he is the one that stabbed him with his knife repeatedly after he saw him flirting with you.

“i know baby, i know. come sit on my lap and let it all out”

ghostface!rafe cameron telling you to stay inside with him because it’s dangerous out there, but only so he can have you all to himself while he secretly kills at night when you sleep.

“it’s safer to be here with me, alright? it’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”

ghostface!rafe cameron admiring how your beautiful lingerie looks on your pretty body, before cutting it open with his knife and tossing it aside, promising that he will buy you ten new sets after you start whining.

“what’s wrong baby? you know i can buy you anything you want”

ghostface!rafe cameron fucking you with his mask on after telling you he randomly found it at a costume store even though it’s the mask he wears every time he kills a new victim.

“you like this baby? hmm? fuck, i knew you were a dirty little slut”

ghostface!rafe cameron distracting you from your fears, making you cum over and over again until you forget what you were so scared of.

“ssssh, just lie down and let me distract you sweet girl”

full fic based on this!

[reidsworld]

Parties

Summary: Spencer, Reader's boyfriend, gets jealous of the Readers family friend at a party.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: fake blood, fake knife and axe, Spencer being jealous, cursing, kissing, hickeys, semi-public oral sex(m receiving), face-fucking, praise/degradation, I think that's it, lmk if I missed anything! — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!!

Word Count: 1.7K+

A/N: For the readers parents house I was envisioning something like the Mikaelson mansion from TVD. The reader is described as having longer hair w/ curtain bangs! This is also my first fic so sorry if its bad lmaoo

Masterlist

Walking onto the jet, you sat next to Penelope, across from Spencer. This case had been a hard one, Hotch had Penelope come along as you needed all hands on deck.

ping!

You sigh taking out your phone to see a text from your mom.

Mother Call me, please.

"What's wrong, Sweets?" Penny asks, concern lacing her tone.

"Nothing, my mom is just trying to call me and I really don't want to deal with her right now." You reply with a groan. You click on your Mothers profile, hitting the call button. She picks up right away.

"Sweetie, let your team that they're invited to this year's Halloween party. Your father and I agreed on the Friday- the 25th, but we would appreciate your input on the date. It starts at 8 PM" she says into the line.

"Alright, the 25th sounds good. If we have a case I might not be able to come," you say with a fake-disappointed tone, praying that a case came up on the day of the party.

"Your father and I are excited to see you so please try to be there."

"Well I can't really control when serial killers decide to strike but you know, I'll try!"

Sighing, your Mother speaks, "Don't be like that honey, your father and I are very excited to see you. If it's any encouragement to come, Julius will be there!"

"Alright fine, I'll try my hardest to be there." you say, smiling at the name.

You exchange 'goodbye's' and 'I love you's' with each other before you hang up.

“Who’s Julius?” Morgan asks with a smirk, drawing your attention to rest of the team who’s staring at you. Spencer couldn't help but feel jealous at the way you smiled at this ‘Julius’ person.

“How did you-? And you’ll meet him at the Halloween party my parents are having on the Friday 25th at 8 PM. No extremely scandalous costumes or my parents will probably never invite you guys back.” You say with a laugh.

Luckily, on the day of the party there was no case. Even so, you had asked Hotch to get off early as you needed to get ready for the party and be there early, as per your parent's request.

Once he agreed, you rushed home and showered before getting ready. You wore a black velvet strapless body-con dress that cut mid-thigh. You had fishnet stockings and black gloves that reached just below your elbows. There was a knife strapped to your leg as well. You had your hair down, styled with curtain bangs.

Once you finished getting changed, you put on dark red lipstick, mascara, and did cat eye eyeliner. Finally, to complete the look, you grabbed the scream mask and rested it to sit securely on top of your head as if you had pulled it up to reveal your face.

You grabbed a small black handbag and put on some Doc Martens, heading out the door to your parents mansion.

Once you got there, their mansions was decked out with Halloween decorations. You parked your car in the garage and went inside.

"Y/N, sweetie, we missed you so much!" Your mother greeted as her and your father hugged you.

"I missed you guys too. And I love the costumes." You said when you pulled away from the hug, referring to their matching Gomez and Morticia Addams costumes.

"Thank you," your father smiled.

It was 8:45 and most of the guests had arrived, so you decided to go and mingle.

You were standing by the food when you heard a voice come from behind you.

"You look good, baby," Spencer said, giving you a kiss on your temple. You looked up at him. He held a fake bloody axe in the one hand and he was wearing a suit with a clear rain coat on top of it. He had his hair slicked back and fake blood splatter covered his face.

"Thank you, you make a hot Patrick Bateman," you winked.

"Well hello gorgeous." You turned to see someone that you hadn't seen in years.

"Julius! Hi, oh my gosh, don’t you look handsome. It's so good to see you." You smiled, hugging him. He was dressed in a orange jump suit with handcuffs on one hand. When he pulled away, you could see him check you out.

"It's good to see you too, love," He grinned.

Spencer would deny being jealous of how low Julius had his hand on your back, of how you smiled and hugged him. But who was he kidding, he was incredibly jealous. So, he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around you, smirking.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me, baby?"

You smiled, knowing exactly what Spencer was doing, "Spencer, this is Julius. Julius, this is my boyfriend Spencer."

Julius stuck his hand out for Spencer to shake. "I don't shake hands, too many germs. But it's nice to meet you," Spencer said, leaving Julius hanging.

"I'll be back, Spence, I gotta go to the washroom."

With that you walked off into a hallway, Spencer following quickly behind you. When he caught up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the laundry room, locking the door behind you.

“Spencer what are you—”

Your words were cut off as he pushed you up against the door, smashing his lips on yours. His hands roaming all over your body as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it and earning a soft groan from his lips.

He tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan, before breaking the kiss moving his lips down your neck. He lightly bites down on a spot before soothing it with his tongue. He repeats this all over your neck, surely leaving multiple hickeys.

"Fuck, you see what you've done to me? Walking around with that pretty little outfit and flirting with some other guy who would never be able to make you feel as good as I do," he speaks with a low tone, pushing your hips against his growing bulge as his hands grope your ass.

His words make you weak at the knees, the pool in your panties building with every passing second. Spencer's eyes are filled with hunger and lust as he pulls you in for another kiss.

"On your knees," he says into the kiss, lightly pushing you down by your shoulders. You get on your knees, making quick work of taking off his pants.

You slide off his boxers, freeing his cock, precum leaking out of the tip. You grin before licking a stripe up the underside of it, making him groan.

You spread the precum around the head of his dick before taking it in your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. Spencer's breathing picks up and you start taking more of it into your mouth.

He takes the mask off the top your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. He grips your hair, making a make-shift ponytail. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head.

You swirl your tongue around his dick as you suck harder. He groans and throws his head back, "shit, baby." As you take more of his dick into your mouth, his hips buck, hitting the back of your throat.

You gag around his dick, making him let out a low groan. He looks down at you for approval before he starts thrusting into your mouth.

He fucks your throat, making you gag and moan around his dick. Tears begin to fall at the feeling and restriction of air flow. He pulls back a bit, letting you get some air.

Once you give him a small nod, he resumes his motions. "Fuck Y/N you take my cock like such a good little slut.”

You feel his dick begin to twitch in your mouth, indicating that he’s close. You look up at him as he pushes in and out of your mouth, moaning so loudly, you're sure people can hear you.

"I'm close," Spencer moans, sloppily thrusting into your throat, hitting the back every time. After a couple more thrusts, he pushes his dick as far into your throat as he can, making you gag. The vibrations send him over the edge. He holds your head still, sending warm ropes of cum down the back of your throat.

He pulls out and looks at you, your mascara is running and your hair is a mess, "you look so pretty like this baby." He caresses your cheek before helping you up onto your feet. He pulls his boxers and pants back on before kissing you on the forehead.

"I love you," you smile at him.

"I love you too."

He picks your mask up off the ground and hands it to you. You take him to the washroom and take out makeup wipes from the cabinet. He helps you take off your make up so you can reapply it.

You both walk out of the room and into the hallway. Just as your leaving you bump into Julius. His eyes flicker down to the dark marks scattered across your neck and Spencer smirks.

"We're leaving now, it was good to see you," You smile at him, holding Spencer's hand.

"Yeah, you too."

As soon as you got home, Spencer pulled you onto the couch to straddle him. His lips were on yours, engaging in a heated kiss. His hands roamed to the back of your dress, pulling the zipper down and sliding the dress down to your hips.

He unclipped your bra, freeing your breasts. he pulled back, looking down and grinning.

"Are you just gonna stare or are—” You were cut off by Spencer's lips on your nipple making you moan. He swirled his tongue around the bud as his other hand kneaded your other breast. You were moaning, running your hands through his hair.

Just as he was about to move to the other nipple, your phone pinged. You groaned and got off him. you walked over to your phone and unlocked it.

Mother Your car is still here...?

Y/N I'll pick it up in the morning, I went home in someone else's car

With that you put your phone down and walked over to Spencer, swaying your hips.

"Now, where were we?"

A/N: chat I’m rlly debating posting this rn. I wrote it in 2022 and now, 2 years later, I found it in my drafts. I decided to edit it and fix it up a bit. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, when I first found it, I expected it to be a lot worse lmao. lmk what you think of it!! if no one reads this I’m taking it down cause I’m kinda out of my criminal minds phase lol. Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

[hargreeves-duncan]

I saw your requests were open and because I'm very hurt/comfort I would like reader to be fives spouse and then the subway happens like the after of everyone learning about it at the house and having to bring up what happened with not only Diego but us as well who thought we [Five and spouse] were happy??? Immaculate. Also I hope you're doing well stay hydrated!

a/n: thank you so much for your request, i am super hydrated, thank you :)) i really loved writing this (even if it is a little angsty) and i hope you love it just as much

summary: you thought you were happy together - if only you knew how wrong you were.

warnings: mentions of canon compliant violence, cheating (obviously), lila x five😬

word count: 2.1k

pt. 2

Christmas Eve would always be a time of joy and merriment for many, and the same had been true for you for all of your life. Even when you’d spent a few decades working as a trained killer for The Commission, the holidays were always a normality and a comfort that you could fall back on, without fail. In between snapping necks and pulling triggers, you’d seen the snow covered hills of Lapland and the warm festivities of Munich’s Christmas Markets and now that you were retired, you could enjoy it all with your family.

The family that your husband, Five, had brought you into. Whilst there was some initial shock from the Hargreeves’ siblings as they found out that not only had their brother aged forty-five years without them on a post-apocalyptic Earth but that he had actually gotten engaged in that time, slowly but surely, they had let you in. They were chaotic, at the best of times, but you loved them all the same and you knew that you’d do anything to protect them now. They were your family, just as much as Five was.

You’d met Five at the commission, when he was worn down by a lengthy four decades of solidarity and you’d pieced him back together. You’d shown him that living wasn’t just a means to an end and that it could be good and loving. You’d joked at the time how silly it was, that the two of you had found love at an organisation designed to kill, for the most part, innocent people. He’d said he’d do it a thousand times over if it meant he’d get to you.

After spending the last few years trying and failing to stop the apocalypse, you weren’t quite those people anymore. Instead, you had grown and evolved but you’d never had the luxury of waiting around for the two of you to settle down and retire like you’d both hoped for. So, when you’d come to this timeline, Five powerless, you hadn’t looked back. You’d gotten married, whilst you knew you still could and you’d lived the last six years in bliss. Five had softened now that there wasn’t the weight of impending doom on his back and you both got to be enveloped in the love you’d worked so hard for without consequence.

Tonight, you had gone over to Diego and Lila’s place to spend the evening with your extended family. At some point in the evening, Five and Lila had reappeared from whatever they’d spent the day doing and since he’d got back, Five had been unsettled. His eyes kept flickering over to Diego and Lila, constantly. He looked seething. Your husband had never been one for public displays of affection and Diego’s increasingly wandering hands must’ve been beginning to anger him, you thought. Five frowned, how was he supposed to enjoy his evening with that sitting across from him? 

Noticing his restlessness, you slipped your hand over his comfortingly, feeling the cool metal of his wedding ring slide over your palm, “You okay?”

Five glanced back at you. He cleared his throat and nodded, smiling gently at you, “I’m alright, love.”

Occasionally, Lila would look over at him. She looked shy and timid under Diego’s touch, a look you’d never seen on her before. Lila’s love had always been performative and outlandish. Her affection was everywhere and to see her look so strained in his company was strange. It was entirely foreign to watch it play out and it didn’t match the Lila Hargreeves you’d come to know. Diego noticed too.

Even Luther noticed the tension in the room. He watched as Five rolled his shoulders for the hundredth evening, “What is with you tonight? You’ve barely said a word, Five, when does that ever happen?”

So, it wasn’t just you then? You thought to yourself. A ball of anxiety began to develop in your stomach. You searched Five’s face for the root of the problem. Five sighed and adjusted himself, “It’s called thinking, Luther. You should try it sometime.”

A flurry of shock and distaste shot up from everyone as he said that and you shrank slightly in your seat. Five bristled as you got closer. You frowned.

“I do think, I think you’re an asshole.” Luther clapped back, pouting as he leaned back against the couch. At this moment, you happened to agree. Five didn’t brush you away, physically, but he kept his eyes forward, anywhere but down at you. You felt dread in the pit of your stomach.

Five continued to avoid your gaze as Allison sighed, brushing her hair from her face, “Okay, can we not do this right now?” Her eyes drifted pointedly to Claire, Grace and the twins in the corner of the room, happily occupying themselves with toys and the tv which displayed a graceful ballerina one of the girls was currently trying to imitate.

“No, let’s. Let’s do this now.” Five said, smiling bitterly at her as he stood from the couch and dropped your hand.

You sighed, sitting forward, “Five-”

“Five, it’s gonna be okay.” Lila interrupted, smiling reassuringly from where she sat. Your head swivelled around to her, in time with Diego’s, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you had the chance to question Lila, Five smiled sarcastically at you all, moving his hand to cut her off, “No, it’s not gonna be okay.”

Diego shot from his seat, chuckling, “Hey, come on, man. Don’t talk to my wife like that. Not tonight. Not on Christmas.”

Five squares up to him, broadening his shoulders and raising his eyebrows at his brother, “You going to do something about it, fuckface?”

An uproar of protests from all of the others. Your eyes widen as things begin to escalate and you stand up, reaching for his arm, “Five!”

He glances back at you. Diego scoffs and steps closer, prodding Five’s chest, “Yeah, I’m gonna K-I-C-K your A-S-S, man.”

“Oh wow, somebody’s passed the first grade.” Five says sarcastically, still not backing down. 

“Five.” You say again, more forcefully as you step up to them. Lila gets up and steps between them, putting her hands on each of their chests and pushing them away from one another. Your eyes flare as you watch her fingers skim Five’s chest. They follow her hand up to her wrist and-

“What is that?” You ask, reaching for her wrist. A silver bracelet, woven like vines, dangles from her arm. You roll your sleeve back, looking at your own bracelet. The one that Five had given you on some anniversary or other, he’d had it made especially for you - strung together with gold, because silver was too trivial for someone like you, he’d said.

The bracelet felt trivial altogether as you looked at its pattern now, beside Lila’s - practically identical to your own. Cheaper, yes, but still like yours, “What’s what?” Lila asked innocently, taking her wrist back.

“That thing on your wrist.” Diego’s eyebrows furrow as he takes Lila’s wrist and he glances between your wrist and Lila’s, “You hate bracelets. You traded the one that I got you for Valentine’s last year to the pawn shop. What…”

“Where did you get it?” You demand, looking her in the eye with a determination that you haven’t felt in years. Lila stands there guiltily, leaning in Five’s direction and your heart sinks. Diego watches, the dots connecting in his mind.

“Did you give her that?” He asks, stepping closer to Five. Lila reaches out for him and he shrugs her off, “No, answer the question, Five. Did you give her that?”

“I made it.” Five answers, hands slipping into his pockets. He’s casual, as if it means nothing, and that only makes it hurt so much more because if this gift to Lila means nothing, then you must mean even less.

“You made it… for her?” You say, hurt and grief for the life you’ve had together seeping into your voice. And just when you think he can’t get any more cruel…

“Who does it look like I made it for?” He says, looking over at you, and your heart shrivels up painfully. A dull ache blooms in your chest and you can’t even form a response because he’s being so cutting and it’s something you’ve never had from him before.

Diego steps up, pressing a hand to your arm and giving it a gentle squeeze as he pushes you back. He takes a breath and looks between Lila and Five, biting his lip, “Is there something going on between you two?”

The two stare silently for a moment and Lila’s voice grows soft as she looks at her husband, “Diego-”

Diego holds his hands up and turns away, “Holy shit… Holy shit, I was right!” He says, pointing at them both, his voice a mix of anger and disappointment in the people he’d trusted.

“Book club, a- all this time, you- you were cheating on me with…” He can’t even get the words out properly as he looks at them, his stutter resurfacing as his emotions get the better of him. He looks over at you, your eyes widen further, if that’s even possible as you realise things for yourself.

“Oh my god… oh my god, I am a complete and utter fool.” You say, laughing in shock as you mentally take a step back from the last few months.

This is what you got for letting your guard down, you supposed, “I can’t believe you… why did I never�� you were never doing research, were you? You were off with her.”

“Now, just wait-” Five starts, holding his hands up and trying to approach you at the same time that Lila says, “No, we weren’t cheating on you. At least, not when you thought we were…”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, scoffing and folding your arms over your chest.

“It means that, for us, it’s been seven years. I blinked us to the subway and we got stuck down there.” Five said, stepping forward.

“Please, tell me you’re joking.” You say, shoulders dropping as your heart clenches, all of your defences falling.

“Love, I wish I was.” He says tenderly, stepping closer to you again. He takes a deep breath, “We were lost for seven years, Y/N.”

Seven years. He’d spent almost as much time with her as he had with you. Were you really that disposable? You’d thought that things were good between the two of you, great even, but the moment he’d been out of your sights, he’d done this…

Breaking down, you sit back on the couch, putting your head in your hands as you blink back tears. Five sighs, sitting beside you, “We went through a lot of timelines and I promise, I never stopped trying to get home, you know I never would, but… I got tired. Tired of failing over and over and I had to stop.”

“I wouldn’t have given up.” You say, drying your eyes as you look up at him again. Five smiles tiredly, shaking his head.

“You can’t know that.” He says, looking over at you. His eyes are soft, but it doesn’t stop the harsh sting of what he says. 

“I can, because I love you, it’s as simple as that.” You protest, looking at him brokenly, “You wouldn’t have stopped looking if you loved me the way that I love you.”

He rubs his thumb over his clenched knuckles, sighing, “Don’t say that. You know that I love you.”

“Of course. And her? What about Lila? Do you love her too?” You challenge, eyes flitting over every pore in his face, seeking an answer or an apology, anything that isn’t going to confirm what you so deeply fear; that he doesn’t love you anymore.

Lila perks up from where she’s standing beside Diego. Diego’s face drops and all either of you can do is watch as your partners lock eyes with one another instead of you. Five sighs, glancing back at you, “Y/N, now is really not the time for-”

“Do you love her?” You ask again.

He glances between the two of you and sighs again. It feels like that’s all he’s capable of doing right now, sighing. You want to scream or yell or cry because that isn’t fair, he doesn’t get to be frustrated or hurt when this is his fault and you shouldn’t be feeling bad for him when he looks so defeated but you just can’t help it because it’s Five, your Five, and you’ve never known anything else but wanting what’s best for him.

He parts his lips, about to speak, before Claire interrupts from where she’s sat on the floor, “Hey, grown-ups! Look at the TV! Isn’t that Uncle Ben?”

Five stands up to look with the other Hargreeves and you steady yourself. This is okay, you think, you can let things go on as normal. Just for a little longer.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Thinking about Spencer’s daughter who always comes to him to help her get through the hard levels on her games. (Because what else would his wonderful brain be used for?)

“Daddy!” Spencer knows that tone. All sticky sweet and pleading, he knows it well. Georgia might only be six but she’s clever and he knows how to get her dad to do whatever she wants- she doesn’t have to try hard to convince him of anything.

“Yes, Georgia.” He’s wiping his hands in a kitchen towel to free it from any straggling dough.

“I need your help please.” She’s sitting in her little wooden chair, legs crossed and controller in her hand.

She and Spencer are home alone on this Friday night- you’re out with the Bau girls having drinks and he’d decided that a late night with Georgia was in the books.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Spencer sits on the floor beside her, eyes roving the tv as she holds the controller out to him.

“I can’t jump onto this mountain.” Long words like mountain get tangled up as she says it but Spencer finds it endearing.

“Alright, let me see what I can do.” Spencer hasn’t been exceptional at video games, never really finding them that interesting but for Georgia he’s become a connoisseur of sorts.

Spencer takes only a couple minutes to get her character onto the mountain and she shoots out of the chair and into his lap.

He looses his breath in the shock of it but his arms hold her close to his chest. “You’re the best dad! Thank you.”

Spencer gets kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze around his neck before Georgia’s back in her chair.

“You’re welcome, Georgia. Do you want any snacks?”

She shakes her head, “I still have my goldfish.” Spencer nods, heading back to the kitchen to check on the cobbler he put in the oven.

You’d been craving one for the last couple of weeks and finally having time off from catching killers Spencer thinks it’s the perfect time to get one baked up for you.

“Dad, if I get stuck on another level you’ll help again?”

Spencer chuckles, “You know I will,” then he pauses. “Are you stuck?”

He hears her groan. “Yeah I can’t get it fast enough.”

“I’m coming, angel.”

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Luke Gets Injured

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: a little delayed since he is back playing but anyways Summary: Y/N takes care of Luke after he gets injured Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 1,619

Her schedule was starting to get overwhelming, she decided to take a few more credits this semester to try and graduate a semester early. It was only week two in the semester and she’s already spent majority of her time at the campus library studying.

Usually, her phone would be on silent as she was studying. She was always desperate to focus. It was only noon and she was finished with her classes for the day but she wanted to get ahead on her work for the week.

Reluctantly she pulled her phone from her pocket to see a handful of missed calls from Jack. It was weird for him to text her, let alone call her multiple times. Without hesitation she quickly called him back. Jack answered after a few rings.

“What’s wrong? Is Luke alright?” she whispered as she glanced around her.

“He’s fine, but he busted his shoulder at practice. It’s not great, he’s on a shit load of meds, I’ll take his car back to ya’lls place tonight, can you come pick him up?” Jack explained in what seemed like on big long word. Her eyes widened as she quickly shut her computer, she rested her phone between her shoulder and her ear. 

“How bad is it?” she whispered as she shoved her computer into her bag as she stood up and started walking towards the exit. 

“Don’t know yet, he’s getting a scan right now.” Jack muttered, sounded like there was a lot of shuffling on his end of the phone.

“Jack?” she questioned as she stepped out of the library, luckily her car was parked close enough to where she could leave in the matter of minutes. 

“Y-yeah?” he let out as he got closer to the phone.

“A scan is probably not a good sign, right?” she asked. He hummed on his end of the phone.

The drive over to the practice rink felt like eternity but it was only fifteen minutes. Jack tends to get over protective of Luke, so it very well could be nothing. But she wanted to see Luke regardless.

She hopped out of the car instantly to see Jack talking with Nico outside the player entrance door. Jack’s eyes widened once he saw her walking towards him. “He’s inside,” he explained as he took a few steps back towards the door.

“Hey Y/N,” Nico muttered as he smiled politely towards her. She smiled towards him as she followed Jack inside. “He’s a little loopy,” Nico explained as he followed after them. Y/N nodded as she followed down the hallway. Jack turned and entered a room that was brightly lit. 

Luke lifted his head up as if he was drunk. His eyes widened and a sleepy grin formed to his lips. “Girlfriend,” he mumbled before he tilted his head back against the seat.

Y/N smiled as she walked towards him. The team’s doctor stood beside him. “Doesn’t look like he’ll need surgery,” he said reassuringly. Y/N nodded as she rested her hand onto Luke’s arm that was not in a sling. 

“He’ll just need lots of rest, the pain killers he’s on right now are only for today and tomorrow. He’ll just use over the counter until he doesn’t need it anymore,” the doctor explained as he handed Y/N the pill bottle with only two pills in it. She nodded as she shoved the bottle into her purse.

“Alright, can you guys help me get him into my car.” Y/N explained. Jack and Nico took a hold of Luke, cautious on his shoulder, and started guiding him out of hte room.

“God, I’m getting flashbacks to the Zach Bryan concert,” Jack muttered as he guided Luke out of the facility. 

“Oh don’t remind me of that,” Y/N said while laughing as she followed after the boys.

They managed to get Luke into the passenger seat of the car, the medication was a lot stronger than Luke thought they were going to be. He tilted his head back against the headrest. Jack shut the door on him, a chuckle leaving his lips in the process.

“I’ll drive his car back to your guys’ place, so I can help you get him inside.” Jack explained. Y/N nodded as she took in a long breath.

“Thank you, Jack,” she mumbled as she met his eye, taking a deep breath in the process. He nodded as he jogged towards Luke’s car a few parking spaces away.

Y/N jogged around towards the driver seat of her car and she dropped down into the seat. “You alright?” she asked him. He opened his eyes slowly, glancing down towards his arm.

“They said I’ll be out for only a few regular season games,” he mumbled, tilting his head to the side to meet her gaze. She put the key in the ignition as she met his eye. 

“That’s good to hear, my love,” she mumbled. He smiled towards her as he shut his eyes. 

“Damn, I’m fucking tired,” he muttered.

~~~

The next morning, Luke was sleeping in late, his shoulder in a sling. He struggled to get comfortable for majority of the night but he was finally sleeping comfortably. Y/N stood in the kitchen making breakfast, knowing that he would be starving the second he wakes up. 

She was swaying back and forth to the country music playing through their tiny speaker. She hummed along to the song as she poured the protein pancake batter onto the skillet watching it immediately start to bubble. 

“Cause, oh my god, he walked in like a 6’2” dream, Heaven-sent. He says what he means and he means what he says,” she sang along to the song. She spun around to see a sleepy Luke with his arm in a sling leaning against the kitchen counter. “Shit, Luke scared the hell out of me,” she said while she held her hand against her chest. He chuckled as he titled his head back against the cabinet.

“Whatcha making?” he asked as he scanned her frame. Her body was only covered with an old t-shirt of his and very tiny shorts. She smiled towards him as she flipped one of the pancakes.

“An amazing breakfast spread, you go relax,” she offered as she pointed towards the couch with the spatula. He shook his head as he ran his hand over his shoulder wincing in pain. She frowned. “Go sit,” 

He sighed as he walked towards the couch, sitting down. He squinted his eyes shut as he felt his arm throb. He was listening along to the music that was playing in the background.

It took a few minutes before the breakfast was ready. She was carrying two plates as she walked towards the couch. She excitedly handed one of the plates to Luke, cautiously. He sat up, resting the plate onto the coffee table.

“This looks amazing,” he muttered as he brought the food towards his mouth, taking a large bite. “Wow, this actually taste good,” he teased.

“Oh shut it, I can cook,” she said before biting a perfectly crispy piece of bacon.

“Are you sure Jack didn’t sneak in and make this for you?” he teased again as he took another bite. 

“Hardy har,” she said sarcastically. He smirked as he continued eating the food. 

“Thank you, baby, really this is amazing,” he let out as he met her gaze. She smiled softly towards him as she reached for the remote. He winced in pain as he leaned back.

“I can go grab that medicine that your doctor gave me,” she said, already standing up.

“No, no better not. I don’t want to feel like that again,” he said as he waved her off. She nodded as she leaned back into her spot on the couch, glancing towards him every so often. “I’ll grab some Advil or something after this amazing meal,” he said with a smirk on his lips.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she met his gaze briefly. She put on a random show as they continued to eat their breakfast in comfortable silence.

It had been a handful of hours later and it was safe to say Luke was already over being injured. He felt useless and lazy. He already hated the idea of being held up in bed but he wouldn’t complain about Y/N taking care of him. 

He was laid up on the bed, his laptop in his lap as he was watching a movie. Y/N walked into the room, smiling towards him. She took note of the frown on his face and tilted her head to the side.

She walked towards the bed, delicately resting her hand onto his cheek. He tilted his head into her hand. “It’s only a month in a half,” she muttered. He pouted his lips as he shut his eyes. “Luke,” 

“You know what could make me feel better?” he asked, fighting a small grin forming to his lips. 

“What’s that?” she teased as she slowly climbed onto his lap, being extra cautious of his arm. His eyes scanned her frame, biting his bottom lip trying to prevent a wide grin. He couldn’t form words as he continued to admire her frame. She rested her hands onto his jaw as she ran her thumbs across his jawline.

She leaned towards him, kissing him delicately. His free arm, slowly started running up and down the back of her thigh. “How’s that?” she mumbled against his lips. He hummed as he pressed his lips against hers once more.

“It’s a start,” he let out teasingly.

“Asshole,” she mumbled against his lips before she kissed him more urgently.

[headkiss]

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

-

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

-

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

-

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

-

+1

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

[bellflower-goat]

tldr

don't trust your dumbass friends lmao

[ramhaiba]

𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋

Pairing- Yandere Rintaro Suna x Reader

Masterlist

"You don’t know where you’re running to. All you know is that if you stop he’ll catch you. You don’t even know who he is."

Contains- Serial Killer! Suna, slightly inspired by the movie 'Secret Obsession', reader pretends to have amnesia, stockholm syndrome(?), dubcon, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, unprotected sex, couch sex, riding, groping

You were just having a bad night, driving back home after a stressful family dinner only to have your car’s tire pop, leaving you in the middle of nowhere. You called the roadside assistance hotline and they told you that ‘the quickest they could get to you was in two hours.’ So you sighed, sitting in your car, mindlessly scrolling through social media to ignore that you were stranded, the woods being your only company.

Then there was a knock on your window, turning your head to see him. He was handsome, tall, with narrow golden eyes, and dark brunette middle-parted hair. But his clothes were too casual to seem like he worked for the emergency hotline.

You slowly rolled your window down, “Hello? Do you need something?” You asked.

“ No-no, I ain't like that, princess. I was driving home and saw ya parked here. I figured something must be wrong since we’re out in the middle of nowhere. I mean- unless you got some business with the woods, something must be up, right?” he responded.

“ Yeah, I just have a flat tire. Now I’m just waiting for the emergency company to send someone to replace it” you answered.

“ Ain’t that gonna take a while? Reckon they don't get many workers this late at night. Plus, we’re a long way from civilization... But I could fix it for ya instead" he suggested.

“Are you sure? I mean- I don’t want to waste your time” you responded. “C’mon now, I can’t let a sweet girl like you out here. Dangerous at night, ain’t it?” he laughed, waving off your concerns. “Alright then I'll take you up on that offer” you agreed, mostly giving in because you couldn't stand waiting any longer.

“I’m gonna need some help- so you gotta get out of that car seat and get ya hands dirty for me, princess” he added, lips curling into a smile as he tapped your locked car’s door.

“Of course- just give me a moment to get out” you uttered, watching the stranger nod his head. As the stranger in front of you went to retrieve a spare tire in his trunk, you quickly slid the pepper spray from your glovebox into your back pocket because

He was a stranger after all.

“Alright, princess let’s get this tire changed” the man called out for you, causing you to step out of the safety of your car.

He rested the replacement wheel on the side of your vehicle, “do you know how to change a tire?” he asked, squatting down to get a better look at the flat.

“I barely passed my driver's test- so not really” you commented, causing the man to snicker. “It ain’t too hard, just gotta raise the car a lil bit first- ah fuck” he cursed, looking around him. “What’s wrong?” you asked, worried by his sudden change of tone. “Just forgot to bring out the jack. It’s in my trunk, get it f’me really quick, can't lift the car without it” he sighed, pushing back his dark hair in disappointment.

“Sure, I’ll be right back” you agreed, turning around to walk to his car. You approached the trunk of his black vehicle, struggling to open it as if it was jammed or locked.

Then you hear a twig snap from behind you, instantly you turn your back, seeing the same friendly stranger, his arms raised above his head, hands gripping onto a dagger heading towards you, his pupils dilated. He didn't seem excited, scared, or sad. No, all of his friendly attitude morphed into something blank, something inhumane.

It was reflex.

You pulled out your pepper spray and misted his eyes with the eye-watering contraption. He’s on the ground, hissing in pain, fingers digging into the road. You’re running back into your car, only to realize you left your car keys inside. But you don’t have time to curse at yourself for the stupid mistake, not when he’s seconds away from recovering.

So you’re dashing into the forest, into the darkness.

Branches are scratching your face as you frantically run into the forest, heart beating out of your chest, hearing his quick footsteps and his laughter- fuck- his laughter sounds almost animalistic like a fox's cackling. Due to the rush of adrenaline, it feels like you and him are the only objects in motion, everything else just seems blurry.

You don’t know where you’re running to. All you know is that if you stop he’ll catch you. You don’t even know who he is.

It was already too late when you finally noticed the steep ditch in front of you, tripping over your own feet as you fell head in, the immediate painful impact causing your world to collapse into darkness, eyes closing as you felt the warmth of your blood drip down your forehead.

“You should really learn to watch where you step, princess.”

—

You’re surprised you woke up, knowing there was a serial killer behind you, you thought you’d be a goner.

You knew it wasn’t a simple nightmare when you noticed the bandages around your arms and how you weren't in your bedroom. You try getting up but you hit with an intense feeling of soreness that forces you to fall back into bed.

Unable to physically get up, you take the time to visually examine yourself and the unfamiliar environment around you. Judging by your fresh pair of clothing and the neatness of the bedroom, you figured you were saved by the road assistance employee who was assigned to change your tire. But it doesn’t matter who saved you; you’re just happy you’re alive.

Hearing the bedroom’s door creak open, you promised yourself you’d thank your savior who walked through the door.

But it’s not a savior- no, it’s the devil- it’s him.

This time he’s not wearing a classic grey hoodie. It's something that just screams wealth, a neat black button-down followed by khaki dress pants tied with a belt.

You don’t know why. But you’re first instinct is to play dumb- play dumb so that he might believe you’re no longer a threat. If he thinks you don’t remember the crime he committed, he’ll believe there’s no way you’d report him to the police

“ What happened to me?” You uttered, rubbing your bandaged forehead.

“ You don’t remember hitting your head? ” he asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity. He pulled a swivel chair out from the desk in the room, planted it in front of your bed, and then sat in it, arms crossed, awaiting your response.

“I-I don’t remember anything” you gulped, hoping he didn’t catch your bluff. “Anything? Really? Not even your name?” he hums, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“ I don’t remember my name... I don’t know who you are either” you added, averting your eyes from his unwavering stare, anxious with how close he was to you.

He takes a moment to process what you have just said. Then his lips curl into a smile, clearly indicating that he's figured out what you were implying.

“It looks like you have a case of amnesia from hitting your head too hard. Don’t worry, darling. As your fiancé, I’ll gladly help you recover” he says, sweetly as he leans forward, placing his cold palm on top of your hand, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the caring gesture.

Did he just say, fiancé? Fuck- fuck, you're screwed.

But if you expose the truth, you’d be exposing your lie. He won’t hesitate to kill you if he knows you’re faking it.

“F-fiancé?” You stuttered in disbelief. “My name is Rinatoru Suna. Yours is Y/n L/n. But you’ll be having my last name soon enough,” he chuckles before leaning back on his chair, the wheels causing him to push away from the bed. You have to remind yourself to keep calm.

“ Where are we” you interrogated, trying to keep your tone as gentle as possible to not raise suspicion.

“ At our summer house, away from everyone and everything. It was supposed to be a nice vacation but then you went and hurt your head trying to get firewood late at night. Luckily, I found you unconscious in a ditch- figured you must have tripped over something in the darkness and hit your head” Suna stated, body language so calm that if you didn’t know any better you’d actually believe him. A serial killer and a pathological liar, that’s a deadly combination. 

“ Could I get my phone? I'd like to text my parents that I’m okay.” You asked even though you expected your request to be denied.

But to your surprise he smiled as he got up from his chair, “Of course, sweetheart ” he replied, walking over to the desk, sliding open a hidden cabinet attached to the table.

He uses two of his fingers to hold up a clear ziplock bag that carries a painfully cracked phone. “You can have it back but I doubt it’ll be any use, probably would cut your pretty fingers if you touch the screen” Suna commented.

You couldn’t hide your disappointment as you showed a frown. Suna clicked his tongue as he walked back over, lifting your chin with his fingers, “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. Even if your phone wasn’t broken, the service in this area is horrible. But that’s why you picked it though. Since you claim I’m so ‘addicted to the damn phone” he teased, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, acting as if you were an average loving couple.

“Are you still in any pain” he mumbled, tone soft as he kept his fingers holding your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I'm still sore...thank you for taking care of me, Suna” you responded, a pit of shame growing in your stomach as you realized you ‘thanked’ a serial killer.

“ Rin. You call me Rin” he advised, tone still soft as he gazed at your features with admiration,

“ T-thank you for taking care of me, Rin” you corrected, voice too scared to talk any louder.

“Of course. What else are fiancés for?” He replied.

—

All your pent-up fear bursts the second Suna leaves the room to prepare dinner. You’re trying to be as silent as possible as you’re clenching your chest, panic attacking causing your heart to race.

Why is he doing this to you? Why hasn’t he killed you yet? 

You can’t spend your time pondering these questions; you need to leave. You get out of bed slowly so you don't instantly fall back down, limping towards the wide window before parting its white curtains, revealing acres of forest, not a single neighbor, or person in sight. You and him are alone in this modern mansion, surrounded by the woods.

But not all hope is lost; you see his car parked outside the house. All you need to do is use the vehicle to escape. You plan to leave tonight before he gets bored of playing ‘house.’ You’ll steal his car keys when he’s asleep and then drive back to civilization.

—

Suna sits you down carefully at the dining table, treating you as if you were glass. He puts out two plates of steaks with a side of mashed potatoes.

“I hope you don’t mind steak. As a professional volleyball player, I require a lot of protein to keep up the physique” Suna chuckled, taking a seat across from you, his palm holding his face as his eyes admired your appearance.

“You play professionally?” you asked.

“Of course, how else would we afford this summer house? Y’know, volleyball is the reason we met. In high school, you walked into the gymnasium in the middle of practice and got a volleyball straight to the face. The twins were too busy arguing whose fault it was that you got hit, so my captain at the time, Kita, made me walk you to the nurse’s office. The rest is history” Suna recited. The way he spoke, so casually, not a single stutter just made his words feel so real. The story sounds like a classic rom-com movie, so sickly cute that you almost wished it was real.

“Being escorted out from a volleyball to the face, how romantic” you teased, trying to make yourself sound more relaxed. “If it makes you feel any better, they still feel bad about it to this day,” Suna snickered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re still friends with them?” you questioned.

“You mean we’re still friends with them. Unfortunately, yes. They’ll probably be one of my groomsmen at our wedding” Suna corrected. “C-could I meet them later?” You asked, hoping that the so-called twins could be your potential saviors.

There was a pause in Suna’s actions, he slowly switched his view off of his plate to look at you.

“Sure, I suppose that wouldn’t be an issue” he responded, a fake smile on his lips.

“Y’know, you haven’t touched your food yet. Protein is important for recovery” Suna added.

Your hand is trembling from fear as you attempt to cut the thick pan-seared steak in front of you. You want to curse at yourself for showing fear but how could you not? You’re sharing dinner with a serial killer- who knows, maybe you’re next on the menu.

“Y/n. Let me do that for you” Suna interrupted. Judging by his still-happy demeanor, he’s blaming your trembling on your body’s recovery.

You feel sick.

You feel sick because the same hands that tried to kill you are now feeding you and all you can do is gladly accept, putting on a fake smile with every bite.

The rest of the dinner was mainly peaceful, mostly him reciting fake memories of your ‘dating’ years with him. You can’t help but laugh at some of them, especially the one where he heard you scream in the middle of the night so he rushed out of bed, to the living room, expecting a robber but instead he saw you on the couch, pointing to a defenseless spider.

A shameful part of you wishes these stories were real because, besides the psychotic part of Suna, he seems like the ideal partner, wealthy, intelligent, calm, attractive. 

Once dinner is over, Suna leads you back to your bedroom, he offers to help you fit into your nightgown, claiming ‘it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’ You make it very clear that you could do it yourself, making Suna turn his back as you change. However, as you let out a noticeable hiss caused by the unbearable ache from bending your sore arm to attempt to pull off your shirt, Suna steps in to help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed, this is normal things couples do” he commented, making you sit down on the edge of your bed, his fingers hooking under the hem of your shorts, pulling them off of your ankles. Then his fingertips are trailing up your thigh, under your shirt, lifting it above your head, leaving your bare chest naked to his eyes. The room was silent yet millions of thoughts were loud in your head. Suna clicked his tongue at the view of your naked chest, his hand came up to grope at your breast, his breath hitching at the softness.

“R-Rin, stop that” you stuttered, as you watched his hand trail off your breast to the center of your chest, palm laying flat. “I can feel your heartbeat right now. It’s running so… quickly” Suna mumbled, before replacing his palm with the side of his face, his ear pressed against your chest, closing his eyes as he concentrated on the sound of your heart beating.

You’re holding your breath, you feel paralyzed with fear of having such a dangerous man so close to your skin. Suna sighed as he pulled away, smile on his lips, his palm holding your cheek, “Sorry. I got caught away, didn’t I? You’re so just cute, I couldn't help myself” he apologized, thumb swiping on your bottom lip. “I-it’s okay” You stuttered, glad the experience was over.

After he dresses you in your nightgown, he helps you lay into bed, ensuring you’re completely comfortable. As you expect him to leave the room, he simply takes off his shirt, revealing his toned back,

“Rintarou, what are you doing” you gasp, using his full name to add more emphasis, averting your eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “What? We always sleep next to each other” Suna replied. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that. I’m still trying to adjust to this life that I have no memories of” you confessed, feeling uncomfortable sleeping next to a man you barely know- especially when the man tried to kill you. Suna sighed as he walked over to you, tilting your chin up with one finger.

“You’re making me really making me regret being so careless with you that night” Suna commented, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “W-what do you mean?” you asked, thinking that he’s finally caught onto your lie.

“The night you got hurt. I really should have been the one collecting the firewood” Suna added, releasing your chin, stepping back, an innocent smile curled on his lips.

He walks towards the door, and before leaving he looks back at you, “I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight” he suggested, rubbing his nape. “Why not just sleep in the guestroom?” you offered.

“After catching Atsumu hooking up with a random chick in that guestroom- I swore off of touching that mattress” Suna responded, rolling his eyes at the fake scenario in his mind. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry you have to sleep on the couch because of me” you apologized, not really understanding why a feeling of guilt is forming in your stomach because you seriously can’t be feeling bad for a serial killer.

“Don’t be. Just sleep well tonight. Goodnight, sweetheart” Suna replied sweetly, turning off the lights in your room as he left.

A part of you wonders if the story of Atsumu was true. Or perhaps he’s sleeping on the couch because it’s close to the front door, the safest exit to escape from him.

You won’t lie; it's somewhat disheartening knowing that he’d be guarding near the exit. But as long as you don't wake him up, it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

You must have stared at the ceiling for two hours, praying, strategizing, and overthinking about your current situation. You tilted your head to look at your nightstand, the digital clock reading ‘2:00 am.’

He must be asleep by now.

You curse at yourself for stumbling out of bed, almost knocking over the clock on your nightstand. Then you limp down the hall, leaning on the wall for support, hoping you’re not making too much noise.

You slowly make your way down the stairs, a lingering creaking sound following every step causes you to cringe. There he was, sleeping peacefully on the white sofa, sleeping only in grey sweatpants, closed eyes emphasizing his envious long lashes. You tiptoe towards the key rack on, searching for his car keys.

It's not there. 

You click your tongue, wondering where they could be until you notice an imprint in his pants pocket.

Fuck- fuck.

He’s either forgotten to take them out of his pants or slept with them on purpose. But it doesn’t matter because you know you have to fish them out of his pants while not disturbing his slumber. You slowly approach him, leaning over, holding your breath as you hover above his waist. Your hand carefully moves towards his pants pockets until you feel a palm on the back of your head. You swore, your heart stopped at the feeling, fear flushing into your body. Then you’re head is pushed against his crotch, cheek coming into contact with the imprint of his bulge.

“Such a good girl” Suna murmured in his sleep.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/n” he added, drowsy hands brushing through your hair, his hips slightly lifting, pressing himself against your face.

“R-Rin” you yelped, pulling away, his hand dropping to his side. Suna’s eyes are slowly opening, “fuck- sorry baby, it’s a force of habit” Suna huffed, sitting up, eyes slowly focusing on his settings. You felt yourself slowly relax as you got out of that uncomfortable state.

“What are you doing here?” Suna questioned. “I-” you stuttered trying to form a believable lie.

Suna hummed, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed on you.

“Don’t worry, I got it. You can’t sleep with me, right?” Suna answered for you, a lazy smile on his lips.

“ Rin, I should go” you commented, trying to leave only for him to lean over and grab your wrist.

“Can I confess something to you, sweetheart, I haven’t been honest lately” Suna uttered, his hand drifting up your arm.

This is it, he’s bored of playing the fiancé role,

“ I missed you s’much during the time you were unconscious. Ya were asleep for three days but you still looked so fucking cute. I couldn’t help but get hard from looking at you. I had to jerk off right there at the sight of you. Fuck- how could I not? You were all defenseless, all cute, all mine.” Suna revealed, your cheeks boiled from the lewd comment, you could only stutter his name in response.

“ You’re not mad at me for it, right? You can't be. You’re too nice to be mad at me” Suna teased. “Y-yeah, I’m not mad at you, Rin” you answered, hoping he’d let you leave.

“Prove it then. Prove you forgive me. Prove you still love me, baby” Suna replied. “How do I do that,” you asked. You watched as Suna straightened his back against the sofa’s frame, his eyes glancing at you and then at his lap, signaling you to sit on it.

Your hands are shaking as you grab the cushions, positioning yourself above his lap, hovering over his waist, only for his hands to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his bulge.

“That’s better. That’s s’much better” he huffed.

“Rin, this is embarrassing “ you responded, tilting your head away to hide from his intimidating gaze. “Don’t be shy. This ain’t anything we haven’t done before” Suna hushed, leaning over, kissing the skin of your exposed collarbone.

“But it doesn’t matter how much we've done it- I can never have enough of you” Suna added, his teeth digging into your skin, causing you to yelp, only to be replaced by the cooling feeling of his tongue brushing against the mark.

Then he’s slowly moving your hips so you’re grinding against his clothed cock, feeling the hardness through his sweatpants.

“ Ya feel that baby? So fucking hard because do you. You know how bad I wanted to bend you over on the hood of your car?” Suna teased, smirking against your neck.

“M-my car?” You questioned his words, only for the thought to be forgotten by the buck of his hips causing a gasp to erupt from your mouth.

“ Y’know, I can feel your wet pussy soaking my sweatpants. Messy girl, staining my clothes. What should I do with you?” Suna asked, keeping your hips pressed against his, covered clit coming into contact with the hardness of his erection.

“ Rin, I-“ you whined, finding it hard to form proper words, too overwhelmed by pleasure. “ Don’t worry, sweet girl m’gonna take good care of ya” Suna hushed, hovering you over his waist so he could pull his clothes down just enough to get his cock out of his sweatpants.

He didn’t bother taking your panties off, simply pushing them to the side as the tip of his cock sunk into you. You’re embarrassed how you’re already shaking from the tip, hands holding onto his shoulders, jaw clenching.

“ I can’t- I can’t do this, Rin” you whimpered, only for his hand to grip your waist, forcing you deeper down his cock.

“Course you can. You were made for me and I was made for you” he chuckled. His hands are making you bounce on his cock, each thrust making him hit deeper inside of you, he’s biting his tongue at the feeling of your tight pussy warming his cock.

“You like that, baby? Ya like my cock stretching your cunt?” Suna grinned. As you tilt your head to release a moan, Suna leans his head over, kissing-sucking- biting the soft skin of your neck.

“Rin- slow down” you huff, hands aiming to hold his shoulders, hoping that holding something down would make it more difficult for him to bounce you on his cock.

Suna clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked up at you, admiring your appearance because fuck- you look divine, all flustered because of his cock, moonlight seeping through the window highlighting your physique, once-clear skin now littered with imprints of his teeth.

“You’re so cute, y’know that, right?” he teased, flipping you onto your back, hovering above you, his hand trailing down your waist.

“I think I know an old habit we used to do that might help you recover some old memories” Suna uttered.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, voice slightly trembling. Suna sat up straight giving you an innocent smile, “ can’t tell ya, you just have to trust me” he cooed.

You watched as he got up from the couch, whistling as he went to the coat rack by the front door. Then he stuffed his hands into his jacket’s pocket, his whistling stopped the second he felt for the desired object.

It was hard to see what he was holding due to the lack of light, all you knew was that it was small. You sat up against the couch, back leaning on the couch’s arm“ What’s in your hand?” you asked. “I’ll tell ya but you got to promise you won’t freak out” Suna replied, sitting down at the edge of the couch, pulling your ankle towards him, causing you to lay back down.

“I promise I won’t freak out” you responded skeptically.

Then you saw it, a switchblade, the sharp knife pointing out, metal being shined upon the moonlight,

You’re instantly getting flashbacks of him holding that dagger above your head, his vicious eyes looking down at you as if you were his prey. In some sense, you were and still are his prey.

“ Rin, I think that’s too much for me” You commented, squirming away from him only for him to push you down with his hand pressing against your stomach.

“ We used to do this all the time. I’m not actually gonna hurt you, sweetheart” Suna remarked.

“ I- I don’t think I really want to” you stuttered, eyes glued on the blade, fearing that he’d just stab you without warning, cutting you up until you were dead.

“C’mon, Y/n, this might restore some lost memories. You do want to remember our life together, don’t you?” Suna questioned. He’s putting you into a corner where you’re forced to agree because disagreeing would bring up suspicion.

Suna knows you’re too smart to say no because a woman with actual amnesia would try anything to get their memories back.

He takes your silences as an agreement, sliding the knife from the neckline of your nightgown to the hem, effectively cutting the fabric.

He finishes the job by tearing the fabric apart with his hands, a lingering ripping sound followed as the once expensive nightgown is now pieces of rag.

“Don't pout, I’ll buy you a new one, pretty girl” Suna replied, tongue rolling over his front teeth as he admired the sight of your bare breast. “T-that’s not what I’m worried about,” you remarked, voice stuttering, trying your best not to look at the blade in his hand.

“Y’know, it’s custom made, one-of-a-kind switchblade” he confessed, tracing the tip of the knife across your collarbone, the blade was pressed down lightly, not breaking the skin.

“Look at it, sweetheart. Isn’t it pretty?” Suna asked. You tilt your head enough to look at the blade's cutting edge, black leather handle, clean sharp sliver metal, and subtle rose imprint stemming from the heel to the tip.

A part of you wonders if this was the same weapon he tried to kill you with.

Another part of you wonders if this will be the weapon that he will use to finish the job.

He glides the blade down from your clavicle to your inner thigh.

“Such a pretty girl- such a pretty pussy.”

His pressure with the blade is light yet you could still feel it move against your skin, never spilling blood. You felt him spell his name on your thigh, you wondered what was holding him back from actually craving it out.

A stinging pain coursed through your inner thigh as you heard Suna curse under his breath. You looked down between your legs, the cut was minor- more like a nick really, but blood was still dripping off of it.

Suna’s tongue dipped out of his lips, licking up the spilled blood on your thigh, before kissing the skin around it as a form of a sick apology.

He doesn’t raise his head from between your thighs, instead, his tongue is pressed flat against your panties, you gasp at how the warmness of his tongue is still felt through the thin fabric.

He’s chuckling at your reaction, switchblade completely disregarded as his fingers curl under your panties, sliding them down.

“ Pretty- every fucking piece of you is so god damn pretty,” he commented, leading your leg to rest comfortably on his shoulder, cock heavy in his hand as he pressed the leaking tip onto your throbbing clit.

He pushes into you again, the overwhelming familiar stretch of his cock sinking into your tight pussy causing you to tilt your head, a moan coming from your lip.

That’s when you feel it, the cold metal of the knife pressed against your neck, not cutting or slicing the skin, just simply placed there as if it were a threat. Your eyes focus back on Suna, terrified that this is your final moment.

But it’s not.

He’s thrusting into your pussy like he’s addicted to the feeling of your warmth wrapping his cock. Suna doesn’t have the same expression he had when he was moments away from killing you.

The one he’s wearing is excited, blush across his cheek, tongue flickering over his teeth, dark pupil dilated. And he fucking is.

The sight of your body bouncing with each thrust of his hips caused the skin of your neck to press slightly deeper into the blade.

“Can’t tell if ya scared or excited because this pussy just keeps getting tighter every time your neck gets closer to cutting open” he huffed. Then he leans over, bringing your leg closer to your chest, tilting his head towards your ear, he parts his lips and utters the words

“Maybe you’re a little bit of both, princess.”

‘Princess’ he hasn’t called you that since this whole charade started, the last words you heard before you woke up to this lie. Yet the endearing name is sending you to the edge, shameless moan so loud that you’re grateful your closet neighbor is miles away. Suna hisses at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock as you trembled from your orgasm. He’s still thrusting into your cunt, chasing his own release, his chest heaving.

Suna has to fight back the urge to cum in your twitching hole, he praises himself for managing to pull out, spilling his cum on your stomach. Then he drops the knife on the ground, leaning over again and for the first time that night, he kisses your lips, kisses you like a husband would kiss his wife, so sweetly.

He gets up and gathers napkins in the kitchen then carefully wipes the mess he left on your stomach by this time you’re exhausted, you just let him handle you as you try to process what just occurred.

He looks down at you, his fingers grazing your cheeks, “can’t let you sleep here, sweetheart- won’t be good for your back” he mumbled to you, his voice soft. Then he’s lifting you, holding you in a bridal style, going up the stairs, making his way to your bedroom, softly placing you on the mattress.

He’s climbing into bed next to you, pulling you close towards him so your back is on his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, chin tucked on your shoulder.

Your arms were sprawled out on the bed and you couldn’t help but notice your ringless finger, reminding you

that both you and Suna are liars.

Part two

[avis-writeshq]

omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever. 

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead. 

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche. 

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk. 

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters. 

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things. 

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug. 

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.” 

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his). 

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights. 

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight. 

*** 

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

*** 

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in. 

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door. 

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there. 

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features. 

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face. 

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

[villainmorals]

SNIPER, SNIPER! LEON KENNEDY 𝐱 F!READER.

summary. in leon’s line of work as a contract killer, weaknesses weren’t an option. luckily, he’d eliminated his… all except for one.

warnings. au. nsfw, smut, angst, fluff. hitman!leon, ex!leon, jealous!leon, re4!leon intended. discussion of murder, guns, bullets, etc. a loooot of blissful ignorance. porn with some plot. pet names. argument. oral sex (f!receiving), face sitting, missionary, unprotected p in v, creampie.

wc. 5.3k

note. i tend to fuck up a nice “ex who is a raging munch” fic or two saurrrr this is basically my staple now :3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Leon isn’t sure why he’s here.

He hasn’t ever bid on a target as sought after as the one that he has now acquired. The target was only described as someone who simply ‘knows too much’ about something they shouldn’t. Vague, he thinks, especially because they remained nameless, genderless, and description-less otherwise. It was odd, for sure, but it was the highest contract that he had ever come by.

As a matter of fact, he’s positive that it’s the highest contract that anyone in his position has ever seen, let alone signed. He’s sure that he’s ruffled a bit of feathers by taking on the job, especially considering that he was still considered fresh meat among the other hitmen that he was distantly familiar with.

Leon preferred to stay out of the unusual politics that came with the underground world, and that meant taking on the jobs that no one deemed urgent enough to complete.

(Plenty of drug dealers, a few sketchy nightclub owners, and an awful bunch of politicians who he is 99% sure put the bounty on their own heads to avoid the scandal that was unearthed about each of them no less than two weeks after they were found with bullets in their heads. He preferred those hits. All men, all guilty of something.)

Nevertheless, he finds himself here, perched on the rooftop of an upscale bar with his sniper rifle angled over the ledge. His scope was perfectly aligned with the entrance of the night club across the street, his right eye narrowed while the other was completely shut.

He sighs, tapping onto his earpiece to communicate with his teammate that was a few buildings over. Alexander.

(Alexander was a tech-nut. He was responsible for ensuring that the coast was clear, that there weren’t an abundance of cops in the area, and that security cameras of the establishment were looped continually in order to ensure that no one could suspect anything more than someone being at the wrong place at the wrong time.)

“Reread the target description that was left for me,” Leon quietly commands.

“Aaand what’s the magic word?”

He heavily sighs. For a job like this, he figured that working alone would be the best option, but with the more he learned, the more experience he gained, the people he met—he was proven wrong. A team works more efficiently than a single person, even if the other half of his current team was a bit… annoying.

“Don’t piss me off,” he huffs, shaking his head as he closes one eye to look through the scope again.

Leon can practically hear Alexander’s grin on the other end of the line as he speaks. “Alright, man, jeez. Your g-string must be a bit too tight tonight, but that’s alright, I’m in no place to judge you.”

Before the blonde can even react to that unsettling quip, Alexander continues speaking, only this time, he does what Leon asks of him. “Bounty, bounty, bounty… where is the darn thing? Oh yes, here it is. Okay, it says that the target will be wearing a blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks tonight…. and that’s it.”

Leon hums, mulling over the very few words that were left for him by the person who had posted the contract in the first place. He’d never killed someone based on the description of an outfit alone,  but then again, he’s never gotten paid this much for sending a bullet through a random guy’s brain. He’ll take it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, turning off his ear piece to drown out the voice of the male on the other end.

It feels like hours pass by in which all he does is stare at the entrance, watching as each attendee leaves the establishment periodically. Each time he saw the color red, he’d perk up, only to find that they were wearing jeans, or they were wearing a white blazer, which only left him feeling more annoyed as time went on.

And then, the door opens. He can practically feel the air flee his lungs as he taps onto his earpiece out of instinct. A blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks.

“Ooh. Pretty. We guessed wrong, didn’t we?” Alexander speaks through the earpiece, which causes Leon to raise a brow.

“What’re you…” his voice trails. His blood runs cold, his palms begin to sweat, and his eyes blow wide. “Holy… fuck.”

“I know right? Not only is she a woman, but she’s miiiighty fine,” his teammate speaks, his voice oddly humorous for the given situation. A moment of silence passes, and Alexander continues to talk, but he can’t hear a damn word.

Leon freezes like a deer in headlights as he watches you emerge from the dim nightclub with a man’s arm slung around your shoulder, though that hardly taints how angelic you look tonight.

Your hair frames your face so beautifully, so soft and feminine. The tip of your nose was flushed given the crisp night air that you’ve just stepped into, your smile was side and toothy as you walked beside a man that he didn’t recognize.

You’re gorgeous, is all he can think right now. It’s the first time he’s seen you since the moment the two of you broke up six months ago, and you look even prettier than when he pictured you each night to fall asleep. He dreamt of you often, but his lovesick mind was no match for imagining the beauty that you possess.

Suddenly, Alexander’s voice pierced through his haze, bringing him back to the current scene. “Earth to Leon? I get it man, she’s pretty, very much so. I’d hit that too if she wasn’t gonna die in like… two secs.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he hisses, his voice sounding just as venomous as he’d intended it to. “You aren’t going to lay a damn finger on her.”

“Woah, buddy. Big talk from the guy with a sniper aimed at her head.”

That is the moment in which everything clicks in the worst way imaginable.

It’s you. His target, the person who knows too much, the one who is supposed to die tonight—it’s you.

And then, he becomes acutely aware of the lines that are obstructing his view of you. His scope. The red dot in the center placed strategically on your temple, the bullet meant just for you waiting for a simple pull of a trigger.

Leon shudders, picking his head up. No. Absolutely not. Completing his task was not even a thought in his mind anymore, not if the target was you. His beautiful, sweet girl.

But he couldn’t leave the scene unscathed. It would raise suspicion, possibly even tie him to you in a way that you didn’t need. If he didn’t fulfill the obligation in some way, someone else would. He’d broken up with you to save you from all of this, and now, he’d unknowingly come here to make you familiar with his lifestyle in the worst way possible.

You were walking away, and it’s then that his trained eyes fall onto the man who has his arm draped over your shoulder in the way he used to all those months ago. His heart aches at the mere sight of you looking so happy in the company of another, but it gives him an idea.

Leon looks through the scope again, and within seconds, a loud gunshot rings through the air in the form of a thundering pop.

His jaw tenses as he hears screaming. They aren’t your screams though, because you’re not hit. They’re coming from the man you were with, because Leon has just lightly grazed his arm with a bullet.

He wasn’t insane. He wasn’t going to be killing anyone tonight, even if he desperately wanted to kick the living shit out of the man who is so close to you.

Well… was close to you. He isn’t anymore. Your date is writing on the ground all because of a flesh wound, and you’re standing above him with the most confused and concerned look on your face.

Leon can’t help but think that the man has no regard for you and your safety. For all this mystery man knows, more shots could be coming, and instead of trying to protect you, he’s rolling around on the concrete like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Such a man baby.

“What’re you waiting for? Holy fuck, uh… you still have the shot. Take the shot—”

Leon pulls the earpiece away, turning it off before she shoves it into his back pocket. He didn’t need to be scolded by anyone, let alone someone as useless as his teammate. He’d beat him bloody for how he had spoken about you if he weren’t already packing up his equipment to head over to your place.

He needs to check on you, first and foremost. He also needs to explain himself which was… going to be no easy feat, he supposes.

You don’t find your way home until about an hour later, keys jumbling about as you push it into the slot, twisting it with a tired hand.

To be shot at was not on your agenda for tonight, but being berated by your date for not reacting quick enough to help him evade a bullet you had no knowledge of was certainly not how you wanted to end your night either.

Annoyed, exhausted, and frustrated, you step into your apartment. When you begin to shrug off your coat, your body tenses. No. Fucking. Way.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, your voice rising in octave.

Leon stands from your couch, approaching you with his hands in the air, attempting to show you that he hadn’t come with malice. You knew he hadn't, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him.

“Baby, it’s just me,” he says without thinking, the pet name slipping out before he could have a say in the matter.

“Yeah, I know it’s just you, that’s the problem!” you continue, hanging your coat up on the rack along with your purse. “Are you out of your damn mind? I—”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “I am out of my mind, and you must be out of yours for still keeping your spare key under your doormat. I told you to move it years ago.”

Your brows knit together. “You little— you know what? I’m not even going to entertain that. How about this? You leave, and we forget this happened, yeah?”

“Can’t do that,” he tells you with a shrug, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I need to talk to you.”

“Don’t do this, Leon, not tonight,” you huff, pinching your nose bridge. “I’m not in the mood, alright? I was—”

“Shot at?” he finishes your sentence. He immediately regrets it, pressing his lips into a line to keep himself from saying anything else.

Your demeanor falters at that. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes narrowing as you look at him from where he stands across the room. “How do you know that?”

He takes a moment to answer, his mouth opening without any words coming out. It spikes your frustration, so you speak again. “Damn it, Leon, how do you know that?”

Leon holds his hands up again, pleading his defense before he criminalizes himself entirely. “I was the one behind the gun, but it’s not what you think—”

Your jaw drops. “Not what I think? Not what I think? You tried to kill me!”

He shakes his head, his expression falling. “I didn’t, baby. I swear. Just let me explain, and—”

“You tried to shoot me in the damn neck!” you continue, your hand dramatically clasping into the side of your throat.

Leon closes his eyes for a moment, internally bracing himself for your outburst that he absolutely deserves. He opens them again, simply watching as you spew insults his way. He takes them without any hint of irritation.

“What the hell, Leon? Is that what you do now? You stalk your ex-girlfriend and try to kill her? Not only that, you missed. You missed! That’s almost fucking humorous, because how can you try to do something like that and then miss!”

Leon sighs, waiting for a moment to see if you try to continue, and when you don’t, he speaks instead. “I aimed for his arm, not your neck, or anywhere else that would endanger you—”

“Yeah, and you almost blew his arm off!” You’re more than aware that the statement was dramatic, but you don’t need to have any sense right now.

“It was a flesh wound, he’ll be just fine,” he tells you before he continues with what he was saying before. “And I wasn’t stalking you. Not knowingly, anyway. I would never hurt you. Not ever. Your date was just… collateral. I had no choice.”

He hopes that you don’t ask any more questions about that, because he won’t have any answers for you. It was for the better. All you knew was that his job wasn’t legal. It couldn’t have been, not with the copious amounts of money that rolled in while he hardly worked for half of the month.

The less you knew about what his line of work entailed, the safer you were. The further away you were from him, the safer you were. However, those last words now ring hollow.

“Look…” he whispers, taking a step towards you despite his brain screaming at him to leave. He couldn’t. Not when he was the only one who knew of your compromised position. “I know that much has changed between us. It’s my fault, I know it, but I can’t tell you anything more about my job, I just need you to—”

You need answers that you won’t be getting, and that sentiment alone makes you furious. When he gets too close, your hand moves to the leather harness that he has strapped around his broad chest, pulling a sharp-bladed knife from its sleeve. His eyes widen as you hold the blade up to him, his hands shooting up into the air yet again.

“You remember where I put my spare key, I remember where you keep your spare knife,” you taunt, the two of you standing so close now that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his face. “Guess we haven’t changed as much as you think.”

He huffs as the cool blade grazes his clothed chest, the metal so close that it nearly pierces his skin. Even then, you ensure that it doesn’t. It’s almost touching how you press such a sharp object to his heart of all places, he thinks.

Your situation is far more complicated than the both of you can handle right now. You have unresolved issues with each other, and that alone must be addressed before you can even begin to scratch the surface of the threats that now face the two of you.

“I still think you’re sexy when you’re mean to me,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side. “That hasn’t changed either.”

Was it the time for his flirtatious performance? Certainly not, but you were putting on a little performance of your own just the same.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

Leon shakes his head, his eyes narrowing just as yours did. “Disgusting? Oh, don’t romance me.”

“I’m not romancing you,” you huff with an eye roll. Your grip on the knife only tightens, but you have no real intention of using it. “I’m threatening you.”

He hardly finds you to be threatening. He’d liken you to an angry cat, but he wouldn’t dare voice that out loud. He’s letting you have your moment, truth be told. “Mm, even better.”

His calloused hand moves to shadow yours, slowly lowering the knife that begged to pierce his pale skin. You let him, which only gives him more incentive to pull it away from your grasp entirely.

He tucks the knife back into his sheath, moving to unbuckle the harness entirely. “Now. Tell me, who was that guy?”

A random guy you met on Tinder. “My future husband.”

You’re just trying to get under his skin now, and judging by the look on his face, it’s working. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, taking note of that smug grin that stretches over your lips.

He really just wants to fuck it right off you, but he doesn’t make that known. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah?” he asks, tilting his head. “You gonna let him put a ring on that pretty finger of yours?”

No, you absolutely were not, but you’re enjoying this game. It’s what he deserves after scaring the shit out of you tonight. “Yeah, I am. Thinking about some baby names too, just for safekeeping.”

Leon doesn’t like the thought that you’ve just put in his head, not one bit. His hand finds your left one, bringing it up to his lips as he presses a kiss on your ring finger. “Huh. That’s what you want?”

You tilt your head, noticing how his lips linger on your hand for a moment too long. “You know what I don’t want? To be shot at.”

He hums, giving you a mocking frown. Of course he feels bad about that, but… you both know he hadn’t truly shot at you. Around you, yes, but not at you. His large hands find your waist, his fingers grasping onto the fabric of your shirt and slowly but surely, you find yourself being backed towards your couch.

“Answer my question,” he whispers, his voice now possessing a rasp that it didn’t have before.

You huff, willingly sitting on your couch, even though you’re doing your best to front as though you’re totally disinterested. “Why should I?”

He shrugs, his lips tugging down as he tilts his head. You watch with blown eyes as he kneels in front of you, his palms gliding over your thighs.

“‘Cause if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.”

You tilt your head, eyeing him quite intently as his fingers move to the button of your slacks. You shouldn’t be turned on, but you absolutely are, and the damp fabric of your panties that he’s about to see conveys that pretty well.

“Give me what?” you ask, grinning slightly.

“A ring, a baby… both, neither,” he replies, his fingers hooking beneath your waistband. “Lift your hips for me.”

When you do just that, his eyes raise to find yours. He has a crazed look in his eye, one that you’re all too familiar with. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give it to you,” he whispers, leaning in until his soft lips just barely brush against yours.

Your eyes close, and you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you. But he doesn’t. When you open your eyes, you find him grinning. The same shit-eating grin that you love and hate to no avail.

“You just have to say the words,” he whispers against your lips.

You roll your eyes, your hand reaching out to rest on the back of his neck. He was already impossibly close, so all you truly did was hold him there. “I want to kiss you.”

Leon smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “Mm, like I said. Whatever my lady wants, she gets.”

His lips find yours in a searing kiss, his calloused hands smoothing over the soft, exposed skin of your thighs. Your lips move together in a gentle manner at first, as though you were allowing yourselves to get familiar all over again, but you were both quick to realize that gentleness was the last thing you needed.

Your breathing grows ragged as one of his hands cups the back of your head, tilting you just enough so that his tongue could easily slip into your mouth. The kiss was sloppier, messier, much more desperate. It was perfect, in your humble opinion.

His trails kisses down your cheek, jaw, neck… just about anywhere he could as he begins his gradual descent. His hands palm at your breasts through your shirt, and without hesitation, his hands grasp onto the fabric and yank it open. Buttons go flying about your living room, but Leon doesn’t seem to care with the way his face pressed into your cleavage.

One of his hands snaked behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and the moment he saw a nipple, his mouth was already distracted once again.

“Leon, that was my favorite shirt!” you scold, glancing down at him.

He looks up at you with hazed eyes, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth before he releases it to reply to you. “Was it?” he asks, his reply lacking any care in the slightest.

You nod, narrowing your eyes at him, but your front doesn’t last long when his tongue swirls around your areola. He reaches into his back pocket, tossing his wallet beside you.

“Buy a new one, shit, buy anything you want,” he whispers against your skin, his hands grasping onto your waist. “Tits are so pretty, baby. I missed you.”

“Is that all you missed about me?” you ask, a huff of laughter leaving your lips while his trail down your stomach.

“Absolutely not, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your panties. He looks at you as he pulls them down your legs, and he presses his warm lips to your inner calves and thighs as he makes his way towards you again. “Missed everything about you.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s corny—”

“Sh,” he tells you, holding one finger up while he uses his other hand to slip one into your sopping entrance. Your walls clench around him, which only forces a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Let her talk for a bit, yeah?”

He hardly gives you a moment to reply before his head dips, his tongue curling up to stimulate your clit before he sucks on it entirely. He unabashedly moans into your cunt, introducing another finger into your entrance simultaneously.

Your head falls back, your hand delving into his hair to hold him impossibly closer to you, even though he seriously would get closer if he could.

“Sweetest pussy,” he murmurs into your heat, his voice rumbling against your wet cunt that he continued to eat like he would die if he didn’t. “Do somethin’ for me?”

You pick your head up to look down at him, nodding without question. He opens his eyes to look at you in return, pressing a kiss onto your mound before he turns around so that his back is now pressed against the front of your couch, still sitting on the ground.

“Sit on my face,” he suggests, tipping his head back onto the couch cushion.

He reaches for your hand to pull you forward, and you pivot on your knee, your front facing the back of the couch. He lays a light smack on your ass before he pulls you down the rest of the way to make you sit on his face.

Your hand reaches down, clutching onto his hair yet again while you cry out in genuine bliss. His tongue softens as he gives you long, deep licks into your pussy, wanting to taste every inch of you on his tongue.

And when your hips start to rock, he seems to be even happier. Much more incentivized too. He lulls his tongue out of his mouth, flattening it to let you ride his face as you so pleased. You made a mess of his chin, his mouth, his nose—he hardly cares.

(In fact, he doesn’t care. Not one bit. You might even have to pay him to care.)

“Y-You know,” you whine, grasping a bit firmer onto his hair while your hips continue to roll on his tongue, “I’m still mad at you.”

He nods his head, which only stimulates your cunt even more. “Mm, yeah?”

It felt so good. Everything about this was absolutely ecstasy, you can feel your eyes pricking with tears from how stimulated you’re growing.

“Yeah,” you choke out, resting your palms on the back of the couch to brace yourself. “I’m really fucking mad.”

Leon can’t help but grin, his hands brushing along the plush of your thighs. “I’m not too sure, sweetheart. Not with you riding my face like you love me ‘n all.”

“Shut… shut the hell up,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your movements begin to grow even more crazed the closer you get to your release. He was right, but that didn’t mean you had to admit that.

“Okay,” he complies, his eyes fluttering shut while he starts to greedily make out with your pussy, feeling the way you pulsate on his tongue. “Shuttin’ me up real nice with this pretty little pussy. Cum on my face too while you’re at it, pretty girl.”

Not nice enough, but you cry out anyway, your head falling while your legs tremble on either side of his head. “I… Leon, ‘m cumming,” you say through an airy moan.

His movements slow as yours do, his tongue eagerly reaping the benefits of its labor in the form of your sweet release. He lets out a content sigh, pressing a few sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

You slowly rise up from his face, and he turns around to face you again, licking his lips, not caring about the rest of your thin slick that coats his face. You chuckle, running your hand over his face to wipe it away.

“So…” he drawls, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You’re still mad at me? Tell me more.”

“Later,” you reply, hooking your finger into the loophole of his pants to pull him closer to you.

With a chuckle, Leon pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly on the floor of your living room. He gently nudges you until you’re laying back on your couch, his hands then moving to undo his belt.

“Ah, I see,” he teases, pushing his pants and boxers down in one motion. He kicks them away before he settles in between your parted legs, his hand pumping his cock.

You raise your eyes from his cock to his eyes, and you give him the most weary expression alive. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say.

It’s been too long, you were certainly not used to his size anymore. Leon knew it just as well as you did, but he didn’t want to make you nervous by saying that.

His brows knit together as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers moving a bit lower to prod your entrance. “You flatter me,” he says against your lips, his head dipping a bit lower to kiss your neck. “No need to worry your pretty little head, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

You nod your head, one of your hands cupping the back of his head while the other rests on his strong shoulder. “Okay… yeah, okay.”

He nods too, moving one of his hands to meet the one that you have resting on his shoulder. He intertwines your fingers, pushing your hand back onto the couch while he uses his other one to slide his tip along your folds.

“I promise,” he whispers, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

He always has. Even after the events of tonight, you know that he always will.

“I love you,” you say without thinking. A flush rushes across your face, and you close your eyes in utter embarrassment. (Seriously? A confession of your undying love while he’s actively entering you? Time and place.) “I’m so sorry, I—”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he whispers, pushing his cock further inside of you until he bottoms out. “Mm… I love you so much,” he replies without a care in the world. “And I’m not sorry about it.”

Your eyes soften at that, and a small chuckle leaves your lips. “Well… that’s good, isn’t it…?”

His eyebrows knit together, laughing softly at your awkward reply. “You’re such a dork, baby,” he whispers, dipping his head to plant a kiss on your lips while he rolls his hips into yours. “A pretty one, though.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss on your lips, and they stay shut, even when he opts to just rest his forehead on yours. “Your dork,” you say, a bit breathlessly with a smile on your face.

“Mhm,” he nods in agreement, a toothy smile stretching across his face. “My dork.”

Such a lovely interaction that you nearly forgot that he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, because the moment he falls silent, your eyes widen. “Oh, God…”

He smiles, kissing your cheek while he continues to thrust inside of you, his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy in a way that made him feel like he was finally home.

“See?” he whispers in your ear, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re taking me so well, pretty. So well.”

That makes you chuckle, but your laugh doesn’t last for long when the head of his cock rams into you even harder. Your hand smooths out along the expanse of his back, dragging your nails back up.

“You’re crazy,” you gasp out.

Leon smiles. “Crazy about you, sure.”

You laugh through an airy moan, tilting your head to the side as your eyes flutter shut. “Soooo corny,” you whisper.

He shakes his head with his same toothy grin, using his free hand to tilt your chin towards him again. His thumb brushes along your bottom lip before he kisses you, and it is just about the sweetest kiss that you could have ever asked for.

“You love it,” he murmurs in reply, a bit breathless as an overwhelming heat pools in his lower stomach.

You shake your head. “I love you.”

Leon clicks his tongue at that, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I’m the corny one?”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh. He loves hearing you like this, so happy yet so utterly ruined by the way he feels inside of you. He knows that the feeling is mutual, which only amplifies how much he’s enjoying this. Having you again.

He softly moans in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Pussy was made for me,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

After a few more strokes, he truly begins to lose himself. His cock twitches inside of you, and he dips his head into your shoulder. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” he rasps.

He pulls back, but you only pull him closer. It’s been so long, he hadn’t truly thought that you’d be okay with that. But here you were, his favorite girl. Always surprising him. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You nod your head, wrapping your free arm around his neck while the other gives his hand another squeeze. “I love you more.”

He grunts when your walls clench around his length, his lips pressing a longing kiss to your shoulder. “Cum with me, baby, c’mon. I need it, honey, please.”

You’re in no position to deny him or yourself. Your body trembles beneath him, a gorgeous moan ripping through the air while he buries himself deep inside of you, stuffing you full of his cum while you find your own release on his cock.

The two of you lay there for a moment, out of breath and entirely engulfed by one another. He slowly pulls out of you, pressing a few chaste kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, until he eventually kisses your lips.

When he pulls away, you smile up at him. You chase his lips once more, giving him a tender kiss before you lay your head back down.

“Now, as for why I’m still mad at you…”

note. yeahhh i need him bad in a way that’s concerning to feminism. anywhoooo interact if you enjoyed i rly like writing for him :D thank you so much for reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[misserabella]

two geniuses (a vacancy gone wrong)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

sypnosis;you get a couple of days off, so you decide to spend them on a california hotel. except things start to go wrong when you meet spencer there. and later on, when you find yourself with cuffs around your wrists. there might be a killer whose obsession revolves around you. and he seems to have focused on reid as well. heads will start to roll!

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, blood, alcohol consumption, tension, lots of fighting and bickering, lots of tension, teasing, flirting, pool scene!!!!!, reader gets drunk and flirts with spencer, spencer gets jealous? over another guy, spencer is confused, sharing one bed!!, murder of a secondary character, stalking, towards reader, secret murder admirer obsessed with reader… angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

you took a deep breath, a smile making your soft lips curl as the salty air hit your skin along with the warmth of california.

hotch had given you and the team a couple of days to relax. the last couple of weeks had been very intense with cases and lots of jet flights. all of you deserved a little time to wind down.

and so you’d chosen to gift yourself a four day vacancy on a 5 star beach hotel.

you were enjoying the feeling of the sun tanning your skin, the company of a good book and the cold comforting feeling of a margarita going down your throat when you crashed against something solid, your liquor splashing itself down your chest, making your exposed —claded in bikini— skin sticky.

but that wasn’t the worst of the situation. it was who you’d crashed against.

“you must be fucking kidding me…” you muttered to yourself. what the hell was he doing here?

he seemed as surprised and pleased to see you as you were to see him. your name fell from his lips in a breath.

“fuck.” you swore, trying to get the drink out of your skin. “there goes my fucking drink.” you sighed.

“nice to see you too.” he scoffed, trying to not look down at your exposed body.

you rolled your eyes. “what the hell are you doing here, reid? came to make my life a misery even on vacancy?”

“you wish. i’m actually here for my vacancy as well. just my luck to bump into you.” he explained, seeming as uncomfortable for having shared traveling destination with you as you were.

you sighed. “look. you don’t like me, i don’t like you. so let’s just… pretend we don’t know each other, hm?” you offered. “just want a couple of days away from everything i know.”

he nodded. “yeah, okay.” and just as he accepted, someone else came to find you.

“hey… is everything alright?” your eyes met matt, a guy you’d met on the pool of the hotel. spencer frowned at the unknown face, by the way he talked to you and touched your shoulder he seemed close. maybe a fling?

“yeah, sorry to keep you waiting, just… my drink.” you smiled at him, and something about it made spencer’s stomach churn. he’d never seen you smile. well, you’d never smiled at him like that. but he should understand that. your relationship wasn’t the best.

“oh. don’t worry, i’ll get you another one, hm?” he said, and you nodded. “you two know each other?” he inquired, and just as spencer was about to explain that you worked together you stepped in and shook your head.

“no. i’ve never seen him before.” the man nodded, and you took his hand. “let’s go.”

spencer watched you walk away with matt, his irritation growing stronger. he clenched his jaw so hard it aches, trying to compose himself. he couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, but he knew he had to get a hold of his emotions.

deep down, something screamed at him something that he already knew, but he dismissed it as simple hatred for your presence on his well needed vacation.

it seemed to be that his holiday wasn’t off to a great start.

-

he should be able to look away. but he couldn’t.

the hotel club was pretty full, but once spencer spotted you dancing with matt on the dance floor he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. he couldn’t help the sourness washing over him, his heart tightening at the sight of someone else making you laugh. his hazel eyes follow your every move, his attention completely focused on you. he tries to think of quantum theories, trying to lighten up his mood but it doesn’t help.

over the last few weeks he’d tried to stop thinking about that night with lila. he’d never thought that the sight of a gun pointing to your head would scared him so badly, but it had terrified him.

his head had flown towards you. there was no more lila. just you. he could still remember your pissed off face when the unsub had caught you. if only you knew the truth…

he watched as matt put his hands on your hips, and with a thick gulp, faced the bar, ordering a strong drink in an attempt to drown out his thoughts.

spencer can't help but watch you and Matt from his seat at the bar. he can see you drinking heavily, downing drink after drink as you dance your mind away. he worries about the amount of alcohol running through your veins, and in the back of his mind he tries to ignore the fact that this man could possibly be a killer.

although his worries disappear when matt gets a call.

he seems worried, and with a quick chat he leaves you. you seem disappointed, and made your way out of the club.

…

next time he sees you, it’s when he’s going back to his room. you’re in the pool, fully dressed, floating and looking at the starry sky. you look like a painting, and he doesn’t realize he had been staring until you notice him.

“reiiiiid” you sung out his name. “what are you doing here?” you giggled, looking at him through hooded eyes.

“i should be asking that question. are you drunk?” he inquired. he looked good. with a white sheer shirt —which sleeves were rolled up his arms—, short linen cream pants and a pair of brown shoes. his hair fell on soft curls around his face. you wondered if they’d feel as silky as your mind made you believe.

“maybe… why?” you turned around, water spilling down your chest.

“you know how easy it is to drown while intoxicated?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “alcohol increases the risk of drowning by impairing judgement, reducing coordination, and delaying reaction time.”

“yeah, yeah… always the same genius, huh? you don’t know how to have fun!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“i know how to have fun.” he retorted, a soft frown tugging from his perfect brows. something inside you tugged in the need to smooth it out with your fingertips.

you hummed, ignoring his words. “get in.”

“what?” he incredulously spat.

“the water feels amazing, spencer, grab a suit and get in.” you repeated, and he shook his head, his tone changing.

“i’m not gonna grab a suit or get in.”

“but why? we’re on vacation! isn’t that what people on vacation are supposed to do?”

“yeah well i’d prefer it if you didn’t die, not want gideon or hotch coming down on me for it .” he muttered, to what you once again were rolled your eyes. “can you get out of the pool? please?”

you groaned. “fine…”

you got under the water once again, swimming your way towards the edge of the pool and the profiler, who expectantly waited for you.

“can you at least help me get out?” you asked, offering him your hand, he sighed, slightly scrouching down to take your hand, struggling when you didn’t seem to be helping him to get out of the pool, rather, you seemed to be pulling from him.

“what are you…?”he tried, but before he knew it, the cold water was engulfing him, soaking his clothes and body.

once his head breached the edge of the water he heard your laughter, his honey hair all over his face as he pushed it back with his hands.

“ha, ha. very funny. laugh it up, y/n.”

“oh my god, you should have seen your face!!” you chuckled, hugging your stomach due to how hard you were laughing.

“god, i would drown you…” he sent you daggers with his eyes, muttering under his breath curses as he looked at his state.

“woah spence, that’s a weird kink you’ve got. thought about talking it with a therapist?” you mocked him, using his own words to stab him.

he let out a single dry chuckle “you’re real funny tonight, huh?”

“i always am funny, you’re just too stuck up to notice.” you shrugged your shoulders, nearing him. your eyes on his exposed chest, now that the sheer shirt had almost become invisible due to the water. you’d never expected him to look like that… his chest was formed, with great wide muscular shoulders and defined abs…

“stuck up?” he scoffed.

“you don’t relax. ever.” you nodded. “you never enjoy yourself.” you looked up at him as you stood on the pool. suddenly, he seemed so tall…

“yeah?” he inquired, his eyes on yours, his muscles tensing when your hands fell on his shoulders.

“yeah…”you bit down on your bottom lip. “just look at you, so worried i might drown. you’re so cute.”

spencer is caught off guard by your sudden comment, his expression softening for a moment. he feels a flutter in his stomach, but he quickly tries to push it aside.

"excuse me? what did you just say?"

he can't help but be taken aback by your sudden flirtatiousness, his heart rate picking up slightly as he processes your words.

“i said… that you’re cute spencer. didn’t know you cared so much about me.” you chuckled, your arms surrounding his neck.

his eyes widen, feeling a mixture of surprise and something else he can't quite identify. he can feel your body press against his, and his mind starts to race with conflicting emotions.

you’re warm. so warm… and your skin is soft.

his heart is pounding as he stares at you, his mind struggling to process what's happening. After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks.

"of course I care... i wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you."

“you’re just worried about hotch and gideon being pissed if i died.” you tease and spencer can't help but chuckle at your comment, shaking his head slightly. he's surprised by how playful you're being in this situation, but at the same time he feels a warmth spreading through his chest as he hears your words.

"yeah, I have a feeling they wouldn't be thrilled if I had let anything happen to you." he says softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“hmm, your smile” you hum, looking at it.

he frowns, his lips tightening in a thin line.

"i didn't realize my smile was such a big deal," he says, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“no, it’s just… i’ve never seen it before.” you mutter.

“i guess i don’t smile ever so often.”

“no. you don’t. you’re usually all frowns around me.” you chuckle.

“you and your awesome personality don’t help me smile.” you scoff.

“well it’s pretty…, your smile i mean.”

“you’re drunk.” he answers and you roll your eyes.

“i am. but i know a pretty boy when i see one, reid.”

spencer feels a heat rising to his cheeks as he hears your compliment. he's caught off guard by how casually you said it, like it's a simple fact. like statistics, like victimology. and it strikes him.

"you think I'm pretty?" he asks, his voice slightly teasing as he quirks an eyebrow.

you hum, pulling him closer and down into the now warm water.

“what are you doing?” he asks, frowning. confused. everything is confusing him.

“nothing…”your fingers dug on his wet locks, brushing them away from his face, his puppy hazel eyes digging into yours.

“you’re definitely doing something.” he whispered, trying his best to not let show the shiver that went down his spine when your nails scratched his nape.

“want me to stop?” you breathed out, almost choking when his hands held you by your waist, his fingers digging on your hips.

no.

spencer's heart races as he hears your question. he knows he should say yes, that he should step away and put some distance between you.

but instead he find himself leaning into your touch, his eyes locked onto yours. he feels like he’s the intoxicated one. like he’s drunk off of his mind. ‘cause somehow, this close distance with you doesn’t feel bad. quite the opposite. he likes it. and that scared him to death.

his voice a low, husky murmur. “we should get you to bed.” he advised, to what you smiled, falling into his chest.

“i’m not tired.” you breathed onto his neck, making his skin grow on goosebumps.

“god you’re absolutely gone, aren’t you? you’re gonna hate me so bad tomorrow…”

“probably…” you snickered.

you stare up at him, one of your hands on his chest as his hazel eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. you bit down on your bottom one the moment your own eyes fell to his mouth, the image of lila kissing him weeks ago replaying in your mind. you wondered how it would feel like, how his lips would feel like, would they be soft? would they feel as plush as they look? how would he kiss you? would he be sweet? would he be rough and mean?

the two of you seemed to near the other, got closer, like two magnets being pulled to each other.

your breaths mingled, and his hold on your waist tightened. “we shouldn’t.” he muttered, his eyes slightly fluttering at the scratching on his scalp.

“why?” you inquired, tilting your head to the side to get closer. he seemed to be fighting with himself. internally. to push you away? to not devour you?

but deep inside, spencer knew the truth. he knew the reason for his hatred towards you. the murdering need to keep away from you, when all his body begged for was to keep you close. he wasn’t ready to accept it yet, though. he wasn’t ready to let himself know that he wanted you. and so he denied himself of the pleasure that would be holding you closer.

“‘cause you hate me, and you’re drunk. you probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow.” he explained. always the gentleman…

“does that mean you would kiss if i weren’t drunk?” you inquired him, catching the moment his breath hitched. his mouth fell open, unable to form words, and you smiled. devilishly. he should have seen it coming, but he was so entranced that by the time he had caught on you were already drowning him.

“got you!” you laughed, seeing the pissed of expression he sent you. he was seething. “god reid, didn’t know you had the hots for me!” you teasingly pinched him to what he groaned, taking you by your hips and getting you on his shoulder as if you weighted nothing, making you shriek as he walked towards the stairs out of the pool. he was gonna carry you to your room if he needed to.

“you’re getting in bed, now.” he spat, to what you couldn’t help but tease him one more time with a…

“in yours?”

-

“fuck! come on!” you cursed as the door locked you out once again. “it’s not fucking working!” you’ve been trying to get into your room for the last 5 minutes. it wasn’t working.

“here, let me try.” spencer offered you his hand, and you handed him your card, only for his try to be negated again. “there must be some kind of problem with the key.”

“i’ll guess i’ll have to go to reception and get it fixed.” you slurred, taking the key.

“that’s not gonna happen. it’s closed.” spencer sighed, to what you frowned.

“closed? why?”

“some technical problems with the computers, didn’t you see the sign this afternoon after lunch?” you groaned.

“and what am i supposed to do now? sleep on the corridor?” silence filled the space you two

share, until spencer’s lips parted.

“you could stay in my room.” he said. “i mean it’s only a few doors down. tomorrow morning you could get your key fixed. and i could lend you some clothes to change to, since you know, yours are soaked…” he started to ramble.

“share room with you? thought you would rather die.” he rolled his eyes.

“i mean it’s not exactly my dream, but i can’t leave you here all alone.” you cooed.

“what a gentleman. who knew you’d have it in you, huh?” he scoffed.

“i’m not doing it for you, i’m doing it for

gideon.” you hummed, watching him take out his key and start walking towards his door, guiding you and opening it for you.

his room was the same as yours; small, one bed, one bathroom. you hadn’t thought about the fact that you would have to share a bed with him. you smirked, wanting to tease him further. get on his nerves.

“you sure it’s not cause you want me in your bed, reid?” you laughed, and he looked at you.

“you get drunk and your IQ lowers, huh?” he retorted, grabbing a pair of new and untouched boxers, shorts and a shirt for you to change onto.

“i’m smarter than you.” you scoffed, legs wobbly.

he hummed, giving you the clothes. “here. change into this, i’ll put your wet clothes out to

dry so tomorrow- woah! what are you doing?!” he quickly covered his eyes, looking away as you started to pull from your tank top, getting rid of it. you looked at him as if he were dumb.

“changing?” he heard you unbuckling your shorts.

“well, there’s the bathroom for that!” he panicked, his cheeks warming up when he caught a glance at the exposed skin of your stomach and cleavage.

“you think i can make it there without falling? you have high hopes for me.” you slurred, laughing.

“god.” he quickly got a change of clothes and left for the restroom, his cheeks crimson red and his breathing heavy. it was easy to hate you, easier than actually thinking about what you really got out of him. how close you two stood in the pool, the look in your eyes, your teasing, your undressing… “get a hold of yourself, reid.”

remember. she’s a pain in the ass. she drives you crazy.

she drives you crazy, she drives you crazy, she drives you crazy…

once changed in his pajamas, he came out, finding you already changed and sitting on his bed.

“i already put the clothes to dry.” you muttered and he nodded.

he silently stared at you, at your still damp hair, clear skin, beautiful eyes… at your body clad in his clothes, at how big his white button shirt was on you, how it reached your thighs, how…

“aren’t you gonna get in?” you ask him, snapping him out of his mind. it wasn’t as if he was engraving the image into his eidetic memory…

“oh, yeah.” he quickly moved, surrounding the bed to get on the other side as you ruffled with the sheets, covering your exposed legs.

the two of you laid there in complete silence. he had his hands on his stomach. he laid like a mummy, what made you chuckle.

“well this is absolutely not awkward.” you muttered and he sighed.

“well excuse me for not being thrilled for having you in my bed.” you chuckled. “you’re not exactly my dream roommate.”

“you wish i were.” you retorted and he scoffed.

“oh yeah, totally. you caught me.” he sarcastically said and you laughed. “anyways, shouldn’t you be sleeping? by the time of alcohol you’ve ingested you should be passed out cold.”

“you underestimate me, reid.”

“i’ve noticed…” he muttered.

“i’ll let you sleep now, i know geniuses need their sleep hours to function properly. or at least men, but even with that they seem to

not really achieve it.” he chuckled.

“thanks?”

“you’re welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.” he corrected and you rolled your eyes, moving onto your side to give him your back.

“whatever. later.” you said your good nights and he hummed, moving just like you and closing his eyes.

ten minutes later the two of you were passed out.

-

it’s the next morning and your head is pounding as you wake up. reid is already up, reading on the room’s desk. of course. very of him.

memories or last night fill your mind and you curse. what the hell were you thinking? maybe you weren’t. you were drunk. that had to be it.

“well if it isn’t the sleeping beast.” he says and you groan, taking your temples.

“isn’t it supposed to be the sleeping beauty?” you inquire.

“i said what i said.” you roll your eyes. of course. “nice hangover right?”

“yeah and your voice surely doesn’t make it any better.” he chuckles, his eyes still on the pages.

“your clothes are dry, left them on the bed.” he announced, and that’s when you see them. you took them, muttering a ‘thanks’ before going to the bathroom and change in between curses and groans that only seemed to amuse more the genius on the other part of the room.

“not funny!” you tell when you can practically hear his smile.

“it actually is. funnier than actually seeing you drown yesterday.” you roll your eyes, opening the door of his room to leave. he quickly stands, following you. “where are you going?”

you groan, your head hurting so bad it was almost like a migraine.

“why do you care?”

“well actually, hotch called and he told me to…” his words died in his mouth when the two of you came face to face with police officers.

“y/n y/l/n?” one of them inquired and you nodded, frowning when one of them harshly manhandled you and pushed you against the wall.

“hey! what the fuck? what are you doing?!” you tried to fought, but he was handcuffing you as the other agent recited your rights.

“you’re under custody for the murder of matthew jackson.”

“reid?” i looked at him with panic in my eyes. he was in shock.

“no, you must have it wrong. we’re fbi agents.” he tried to stop them but they were taking you away.

“yeah, and i’m mary poppins.” the agent scoffed.

“reid!” i yelled for him as they pulled you away.

“i’ll talk to hotch! i’ll find you!” he promised, and you only hoped he would keep it.

…

“i’m not talking until my teams gets here. deal with it.”

“we’ve already called them, they are on their way.”the officer disregarded your comment.

“only part of the body was found. now tell me.” the interrogator stared you down. “where’s. the. head.” you groaned.

“oh, i don’t know! i must have dropped it on my way here, come on!” you sarcastically said. he slammed his hands on the table to which you were cuffed up.

“where’s the head!?”

you slammed your hands back. “if you don’t shut up your head will be rolling next!!” you yelled back. you were irritated. your head was pounding, and now you were cuffed being interrogated for a crime you had not committed first thing in the morning! you hadn’t even had your coffee for gods sake. he gave you a glare. “look. i didn’t do shit. i’m not the killer.”

“we found the body in your room.”

“i wasn’t in my room yesterday. i left it at 6pm and spent the night out.”

“lies!”

“actually, it’s the truth.” your eyes met those hazel ones as spencer made his way into the interrogation room, being followed by hotch.

“doctor reid and agent hotchner. fbi.” they showed their badges. “you’re interrogating one of the members of my team about a crime she has no matter in.” you sighed in relief when you saw them, spencer making quick work of taking off his suit’s jacket to give it to you, since your tank top exposed you.

something about it made you feel calmer, safer. also surprised you. he wasn’t kind to you, at least not if that meant nothing in return. maybe last night events had changed something.

“if she doesn’t have an alibi i’m on the right to keep her here as long as i see fit.” the officer challenged the brunette man.

“she has an alibi. i can prove she wasn’t in his room on the time of the death.” reid said and the officer looked at him.

“oh yeah?”

“yeah. i can, because she spent the night with me…in my room.”

silence fell into the room, and you coughed, clearing your throat.

“now. will you release my agent?” hotch recomposed himself and the officer sighed shaking his head and taking the keys to your handcuffs out.

once released you got up from your seat, putting on spencer’s jacket to cover your semi-exposed chest. your holiday clothes were not the best to work on the field, even less to get arrested on.

“you okay?” hotch checked up on you, and you nodded, massaging your temple.

“yeah, besides the fact that if had you hadn’t shown up now we would have had a second case…” you joked, making him chuckle as you three get out of the interrogation room, meeting with the rest of the team.

derek whistles when he sees you. “well if it isn’t the hottest serial killer in the USA!” you flip him the bird. “nice to see you too sweetheart.”

“here.” jj handed you pain killers and a bottle

or water, what made you almost cry in relief.

“oh thank god, my head is about to split open.” you said while taking them, making quick work of swallowing a pair.

“agent hotchner, thank you for coming.” one of the detectives of the police station suddenly approached you and your group. “and these must be agent morgan, gideon, prentiss, jareau and doctor reid.” he offered them a handshake. “doctor reid, not agent. agent y/n was very specific about that when she asked for all of you.” spencer frowned, tilting his head with a confused but amused smile as he shook his hand. you rolled your eyes when his attention shifted towards you, seeing his eyebrows raise. “sorry for my agents’s actions. you know… protocol.”

“we understand it, sir. what can you tell us about the case?”

“ ‘doctor reid?’ “ he teased you, leaning onto you and you pushed him away.

“whatever reid, don’t think this means i like you. ‘cause i don’t.” he hummed, that fucking smirk still plastered on his face.

“we share bed one night and you’re already falling for me, y/n?” i scoff.

“you wish, reid. now wipe that smirk out of your face before i rip it off.” he chuckled.

“you sure you don’t wanna rip my head off instead?” he jokes and you give him a dirty look. “what? it’s funny.”

“excuse me?” all of you turn at the sound of an unknown voice. it’s a post man, holding a box in between his hands. “package for y/n y/l/n?” you frown. the whole team seemed to frown. how could somebody know you would be here?

“uhm yes, that’s me.” you stepped forward, and the post man nodded, taking out a digital pad.

“need you to sign this.” you nodded, approaching him, taking the box. it was heavy, ‘fragile’ printed on its sides. “a letter came with it.” he explained giving you the envelop as well. he took off just as fast as he got what he wanted, leaving you with it.

“what is it?” emily inquired and you shrugged, leaving it on a table of the office.

“no idea.” you answer while cutting the tape open. your heart falls to your stomach when you uncover what hid behind the cardboard. “oh god…” dead well known eyes stare right into your soul, a note written in blood calls your name. “it’s matt…” you feel like getting sick.

you step away and the team takes a look. “well, now we know where the head is…” morgan said, and jj gives him that look.

“yeah, seems like we have and admirer too…” gideon pointed out as spencer put on a pair of gloves and took the note. he recognized the victim as the boy you’d met at the hotel.

“‘loosing my head for you.’” he read out loud. “seems like it was written in blood too.”

“there’s also a cassette, guys.” emily points out, taking it out of the box, careful to not go near the bloody head. there’s a sticker on it, black ink that begs a ‘play me’. hotch takes it off the hand of the brunette and pulses the play button.

a distorted voice fills your ears. “i know… i know… you might don’t like this side about me, y/n. but i couldn’t stand still while that creep took glances at what belongs to me! you’ve gotta understand! i love you. i just want the best for you. to protect you…” his voice although unrecognizable seemed soft, as if a lover tried to make his other half understand the why behind this actions. “if you don’t believe me, take a look inside the letter that came with the box. see you soon, love.”

your eyes fell on the letter, your hands following suit, ripping it open, pictures falling from its inside and spreading themselves on top of the desk. it were pictures of you, in your bikini, in your room, changing clothes… you took them in between your fingers.

“he was stalking you?” emily inquired.

“seems like it.” morgan chirped in. “wait. is that spencer?” he stopped you, and you frowned, taking the picture. it was a photo of the two of you, him carrying you on his shoulder across the pool court and towards your room.

“there’s something written on the back…” you mutter, turning it around, ink scattered along the white. ‘WHO’S HE?’

“seems like the holidays are over.” hotch said, and you sighed.

definitely over.

-

[chaotic-toasters]

Up the Stairs?

This actually happened to me one time LMAO

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

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

"I'm not climbing those creepy old stairs!" Ella protested. "Y/N and Hannah should go. They're the youngest and the most fit, so if there's a serial killer hiding in the stairwell, they can outrun them. I'm taking the lift, I don't care."

You rolled your eyes. "C'mon, Hannah. Let's go."

"Tooney's such a baby," the Keeper laughed, matching your stride as you approached the hotel's staircase. "I swear, she believes the dumbest things."

You snickered. "Right?"

Hannah started climbing the steps, but you began bounding up them three at a time instead of your usual two. The girls always said you were childish, and this was one of the reasons why.

Because you weren't used to the extra height, you tripped, moving your hand out in front of you to break your fall. However, the sudden impact to your hand sent a sharp pain shooting down from your wrist to your forearm.

"Oh my days," Hannah grimaced, forcing you to sit as she gingerly picked up your hand. "How much does it hurt?"

You squinted at her. "On a scale of what?"

"One to 'take me to A&E, I'm dying'."

"Meh."

She scoffed. "Yeah, right. That crack echoed 'round the stairwell."

"That's just because the acoustics in here are really good," you dismissed her concern. "Seriously, Hannah. I'm fine."

"I'm still telling everybody," she warned. "We need to keep an eye on it. You might not have any symptoms now, but that can change in a few days."

You groaned. "Fiiine."

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

"Are you hurt?! What happened?" Rachel yelled in your ear, startling you. "How did you break your hand?! Are you alright?"

You scooted away from her and closer to Alessia. "I'm fine, Rach. And I didn't break it, it's just a scratch."

"Scratch? More like a loud arse crack," Hannah shook her head. "I think we should take you to the medics. Even if you aren't feeling too much pain and it's not broken, you might have sprained it or something."

You pouted, turning to your more empathetic teammates pleadingly. "Lessi, Niamhy, tell them I don't need to! I'm literally fine."

"Sorry, kiddo," Alessia smiled apologetically. "I'm with Rach and Hannah on this one. If it goes untreated, it'll heal wrong and you'll have chronic pain."

Niamh nodded her agreement, a sheepish look on her face.

You turned to your last hope. "Hempo?"

The forward picked up your hand, turning it over and observing it. "Nah, you're fine."

"She doesn't even have full range of motion!" Hannah exclaimed. "Her wrist can't move in a circle smoothly."

"I'll go to the medics if it gets worse," you grumbled. "Now let me be."

An awkward grin spread across Rachel's face, causing you to frown. "What?"

She looked down, unable to remain neutral. "I- uh... I texted Leah."

As if on cue, the door flew open, revealing a very worried Captain England. "Y/N! What the hell did you do?"

You gasped, glaring at your traitorous teammate. "You snitch!"

"Get up, we're going to the medics," Leah pulled you up by your non-injured hand. "Come on, let's go."

You tried to remain still. "Leah-"

"We're going," Leah grunted, throwing you over her shoulder despite your protests. "You're not getting out of this."

You stared glumly at the floor, ignoring the giggles of your teammates.

"I need a medic for this one," Leah declared as she entered the room, setting you down on a chair. "She fell down the stairs."

Sarina's head whipped towards you. "What?!"

You looked at Leah indignantly. "No, I fell up the stairs. Get it right."

Leah threw up her hands in exasperation. "How do you fall up the stairs?"

"I was going up and I tripped," you answered, frowning when one of England's medics held up your arm and hand. "I fell onto the step above me."

Sarina sighed, rubbing her temples. "Did she fracture it or anything?"

The medic shook his head. "Likely a mild sprain, especially if she can still somewhat move it. We'll give her a wrist brace. I'm sure you know how that works, Y/N."

You gave Leah the stink-eye. "This is all your fault."

"No, this is all your fault," she corrected, patting you on the shoulder. "You're the one who likes to go up multiple steps at a time."

"Whatever," you stuck out your tongue, taking the brace from the medic. "We all know that this is really all Tooney's fault."

Leah paused. "Yeah, that's true."

[explicit-tae]

Metamorphosis

An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae

Word Count: 8.669

Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,

Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”

You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).

Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.

The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.

Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.

Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company. 

You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.

You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.

Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look. 

The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?

You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong. 

The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.

“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips. 

Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.

The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery. 

Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.

What?

What the fuck?

Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Why is it becoming harder to breathe?

Your throat tightens.

Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.

“You,”

Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent. 

“are such a beautiful little human.”

Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?

The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes. 

The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.

You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second. 

You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.

“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle. 

The man chuckles. “A prayer?”

“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”

You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.

“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.

The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.

“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”

You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.

“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”

You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.

This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.

“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”

This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly. 

“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”

You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”

This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.

“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”

“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”

The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.

“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.

“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”

Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.

You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears. 

The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual. 

“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”

You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering. 

“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans. 

“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.

“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”

You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed. 

“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”

Deal?

Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces. 

“I won’t submit to you, demon.”

Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.

You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.

Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.

You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him. 

“P-Please stop!”

Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.

“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”

“N-No!”

Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”

You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.

Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.

“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”

“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him. 

“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut. 

Why?

Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?

“J-Jungkook…please!”

Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”

“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.

Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue. 

“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”

“N-No…”

Jungkook hums. “No?”

You nod your head. 

“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”

Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were. 

You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds. 

Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you. 

Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.

This was wrong.

This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.

You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.

But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.

“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”

Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.

Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.

Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.

“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”

Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.

And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.

Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.

You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.

“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”

Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of. 

“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”

The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.

You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.

“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”

“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”

There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.

A demon.

You were going to Hell surely.

There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.

“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”

Your father?

You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.

“He got what he wanted and in return…”

Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.

“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”

It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.

You were in your room.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.

Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.

You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.

Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.

You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.

You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.

Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.

You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.

Pray.

You had to pray. 

You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor. 

“No…”

You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.

You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.

The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…

Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…

You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…

The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.

Why you?

Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?

What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?

“Beautiful human.”

Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.

Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely. 

“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…

You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.

“I have not put you under any spell.”

Can he read your mind?

“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”

You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more. 

“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”

The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near. 

“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”

No.

No.

No!

“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”

No.

You weren’t going to.

If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?

“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”

You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.

“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.

“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.

“No…?”

“Is that a question, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.

“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”

“You’ll leave?”

Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?

“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”

Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.

Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.

But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips. 

“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”

You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.

It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.

“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.

“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”

Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery. 

You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.

“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.

“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”

It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.

You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved. 

“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”

Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life. 

“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you. 

“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you. 

“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”

“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”

“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”

“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”

Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.

“I…what’s your name?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.

“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”

You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four. 

You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you? 

You shake your head. 

“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”

“I am…so sorry.”

You glance at the man’s way and nod your head. 

“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.

Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.

Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.

It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.

Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.

You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.

It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.

You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.

You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.

Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.

“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”

“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”

“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off. 

The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over. 

Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.

“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”

You’re starting to feel ill again. 

“Y-Yea.” you whisper. 

The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it. 

Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”

You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest. 

“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.

You pull your eyes away from the screen.

You shake your head. 

“I can’t have this baby.”

Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. 

“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”

Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”

Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him. 

You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”

The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.

You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.

“Y/N.”

You come face to face with Jungkook.

“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.���

You shake your head. 

Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.

“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”

“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”

“This isn’t a child.”

“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”

He?

“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”

You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right. 

This time was not right.

“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.

“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”

Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with. 

You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.

“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”

You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”

Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 

Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.

Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.

You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.

You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here. 

You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.

There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive. 

Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.

Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.

Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.

Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.

Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.

“I-Is that…”

You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket. 

“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet. 

“Can I…hold him?”

The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.

Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.

Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.

Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.

“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”

The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.

Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.

Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits. 

Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.

‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’ 

You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.

‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’

PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

[marlenesluv]

Lessons (LN) - Part 3

Summary: After Madelyn wakes up hungover, she remembers the night before and gets a little upset with her new roommate. Adjusting might be a little difficult.

Pairing: Madelyn Fewtrell x Lando Norris

Warnings for this part: Language, Mentions of sex, Not spell checked, A minor fight (barely)

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Note: As always, if you'd like to be tagged for upcoming parts of this series and you are not already on the taglist, leave a comment on this post! Also, sorry this part is shorter, I wanted it short and sweet :)

As Madelyn woke up with a killer headache and sweat dripping down her back, she picked up her phone to check the time.

12:34pm.

Groaning, she rubbed her temples and drank a water she had by her bed. Her room wasn't anywhere near done, so she made a mental note to start that after she showered, had coffee, and ate something.

While she was throwing some shorts and a shirt on, she started to recall the night before. Dancing with Heidi, drinking, more dancing, and- a guy? She faintly remembered a guy's hand around her as she danced but it was brief.

It dawned on her...Lando.

She remembered Lando ripping her away from the only guy that had made a move on her last night, leading her out of the club and back to the house.

He had literally cockblocked her. And from her first one as well!

She was livid as she walked out to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and drinking it black to wake herself up faster.

Thoughts swirled in her head as she leaned on the island and took sips of her coffee.

'Why would Lando tear you away from this guy?'

'Did he like you?' 'Like...more than his best friend's younger sister?'

Shaking her head, she scoffed. Because, no, that would be impossible. Lando? Liking Madelyn? Someone he saw as, probably, a younger sister as well. The girl who constantly spilt juice on herself from drinking too fast to watch him race? 'Yeah, super flattering' she thought, taking a deep breath as she heard the front door open.

She heard Lando at the door, the sound of his bag dropping, and a bottle being set down. Followed by footsteps leading to the kitchen.

Lando then walked in, going straight for the fridge for a protein shake as Madelyn stood there watching him.

"You alright? You look like death, not to mention like you might want to murder someone." He asked, opening the shake and starting to take gulps.

"'M fine..." Madelyn set her coffee cup down, holding eye contact with Lando as he screwed the lid back onto his shake.

"Uhm, okay?" Lando looked confused now, biting his lip and looking at Madelyn as to figure her out.

"You suck, Lando. Seriously? You cockblocked me last night! What's wrong with you? Do you make a habit of cock blocking your friends?" Madelyn said, her tone laced with anger and annoyance.

"Excuse me? You actually were into that guy last night?" Lando asked her, placing his hands on the island as he stared her down with confusion.

"I mean, yeah! He was cute."

"So, you just fuck anyone that's cute? Really, Madelyn?"

Madelyn sputtered, growing frustrated and not knowing what to say. She couldn't even remember what the guy had looked like. All she knew, was that he had a dick. And that he probably wanted to fuck her, and that was enough.

"I was horny?" She said, but her voice cracked and turned it into a question.

"No, you were not. You were dancing with Heidi, and you didn't even acknowledge the guy! You literally ignored him." Lando shrugged.

"Not the point, Lando. You don't get a say in who I want to fuck."

"Mmm, my house, my rules. I'm not asking you to pay rent, I'm only asking you to not bring weird men around to fuck you, leave you unsatisfied and leave my house a mess." Lando left, walking to his bathroom to shower and not allowing you to get another word in.

Scoffing, Madelyn went back to her room, slamming the door as she put her music on and started to clean her room. She was angry, she couldn't believe he had just said that.

But cleaning relived some anger, so she cleaned...for hours.

She moved her bed, vacuumed the floor, rearranged everything, put her clothes away, put her pictures up, and made that room (and bathroom) her own.

Once it hit eight thirty at night, she was done. The room was perfect, it felt like home. Her bookcase was organized, nightstand was stocked, and her bathroom was cozy.

She only left her room two times. The first time was to put her coats in the front closet by the door. The second time was to grab the Chinese take-out she ordered as she ate in bed and watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

Halfway through her second eggroll, she heard a soft knock at her bedroom door. Sighing, she told Lando to come in.

"Hey." He said, opening the door and letting it click shut behind him.

"Hi." Madelyn answered, lowering the volume on her tv.

"Your room looks nice. I love the lights. Did you mount that tv by yourself?!" Lando asked, shocked as Madelyn laughed a bit and nodded.

"Thanks, and yeah. Got it up there myself."

"Wow, impressive..." He trailed off, feeling like he was interrupting her evening. "Well, I'll um, I'll leave you to your food and show." Lando sighed, turning around to leave as Madelyn stopped him.

"Wait...want to watch with me? I ordered extra spring rolls." She looked up at him, noticing he was in sweats and a tee shirt, already winding down for the night.

"You sure?" He asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, idiot. Come on." Madelyn lifted her blanket, Lando crawling in bed with her as she leaned on him, and they ate together. The show now turned back up as they laughed and talked about the show.

'Maybe I could get use to this' Madelyn thought.

'Maybe I could get use to this' Lando thought, his right arm now behind Madelyn's head as she leaned on his chest.

They weren't dating, they weren't anything at this moment but friends. But friends cuddled, right?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

note: wasn’t gonna release this part yet but it’s short soo, might as well!

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