#each are valuable in their own ways

[deadallover]

Me and the bad bitches I pulled by being freaky and evil.

[ryemiffie]

Ughgungukshicnekfjekej.

Why have you done this to me :' (

Okay, okay, so.. Raph is an emotionally volatile teenager with anger problems, grappling with a sense of insufficiency and inferiority. He copes by being overly abrasive to the point that his siblings often avoid him. They love him, but don't like walking on eggshells.

The only one who clings to him regularly and without hesitation is his annoying little brother. Mikey has is own problems with feeling insufficient and inferior, but copes instead by being mindlessly friendly and avoidant of all negativity to the point of unhealthy escapism.

So there's... like... there's this special bond between them. They are by no means each other's therapist, but they have a slight effect in balancing each other out. Raph teases Mikey most, but is also most protective of him out of all his siblings.

And then at the end of season 2, when Raph thinks their father has been killed, he goes into a full fledged rage-filled emotional breakdown to the point that Michelangelo is afraid he'll hurt himself. When Mikey tries to snap him out of it Raph turns on him with his fist upraised, but Michelangelo doesn't even flinch??? He just wraps his arms around his brother's neck and tells him everything will be okay until he calms down and Raph does calm down! he buries his face into his little brother's shoulder and I just-

[kismetlotts]

cw: mentions of oral sex, first date with Simon Riley, Simon is very awkward, drabble

Simon Riley being such an awkward and blunt individual when it comes to dating- it freaks you out because you don't know where you stand. In the SAS, Simon was a cold-hearted bugger, even to his own team. There was little they knew about him and he liked to keep it that way because when things were private they were easier to deal with. What would the point even be filling his teammates, co-workers, in on private matters?

He was impassive. Socially awkward but not in the shy, anxious way people would assume. He could never read the room or bring himself to give a shit, he did what he wanted and took little to no notice of what others though. It sounded fine, and for the most part it was.

But dating was fucking hard- being paired up with real whiny, bitchy women who would just complain over every minuscule thing- fucking hell, he wasn't a goddamn therapist. He didn't have time for people like that- his job showed him how short and vague life can be and he wasn't letting anyone waste his valuable minutes. He hated dating, hated putting himself out there just to come back home and sight in relief at the emptiness- he hated everything about it until he went out with you.

Your first online interaction was a mess of you trying to use some god-awful pick-up line that everyone aside from Simon could comprehend. 'What that mean?' and 'Ok.' Being your only two responses and what the hell, you were intrigued. He was just so- cutting? So rambunctiously dull in a careless manner, you couldn't help but wonder what he was life in real life. And after a few more messages back and fourth, there was no need to wonder anymore.

You drove to the restaurant you were meeting at yourself as he didn't even offer to come pick you up. His overwhelming chivalry and charm, clearly seeping in through his actions already! But honestly you were glad that he didn't. It gave you an exit just in case the date was bad and you just had to leave. Driving there yourself on the first date wasn't anything out of the norm anyway but you were used to men offering most of the time.

You greeted each other at the entrance and you were not expecting from a few blurry selfies of him to be so tall and jacked. Muscles only just squeezing out the armholes of his shirt as he nodded to you and walked inside. Not opening the door for your or even bothering to hold it after himself- nope. Just walking inside as casual as he can be; you couldn't contain your laugh.

He ordered what he wanted to eat, letting you order what you liked as well and the two of you finally got to talking. You shared things about yourself, listened to his deep, gruffly voice share things about him and honestly- it was probably the weirdest yet the best date you had ever been on.

You weren't used to people being like this and it made you surprisingly comfortable and not so on edge as usual. There had been dates that you had gone on that you thought were great; you felt a connection, they said they reciprocated but after it was over ghosted and blocked you for some reason. It hurt you every time and with Simon, you felt like that wouldn't be the case. He seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't mess about and wouldn't still be at the table if he felt nothing.

The food came and Simon dug straight into his steak. Your cheeks warming slightly at all the people sat around the two of you, eating softly, chuckling and sipping on red wine meanwhile Simon just enjoyed himself. His chin was dripping from the juice, fingers messy because despite the knife and fork he made an attempt to use- it was just easier with his hands. Deep brown eyes catching your own and blinking in confusion. His chest fluttered at the sound of your chuckle, a small smirk inching onto his face and he hadn't felt this relaxed with someone in months. He hadn't felt able to be himself.

The dinner went on as you swallowed and picked at your food, not wanting to scare him away or embarrass yourself which was stupid given how messily and carelessly he ate. You knew he probably wouldn't care at all but still- you did it anyway. Looking up at him as you placed your fork in your mouth, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Fucking hot. The lighting was so warm- and suddenly the room felt burning hot. The electricity between the two of you, high voltage and you bit your bashful smile down. Stomach aching in arousal as he sat back in his chair watching the way your lips chewed and swallowed.

"I want to eat you out."

And you almost choked. It was so calm, so nonchalant as it practically just leaked from his mouth. No awareness, no worry for who else might have heard him say that- simply just placing his cards upon the table and informing you of what he was thinking about. Horror coating his face as he saw you splutter and choke on your words, mouth agape in shock. He didn't mean to say anything wrong- he thought that was how it was supposed to go, was it not?

Handing you a napkin and sitting forward a little more as he apologised with a guilty smile. You shook your head, mind still spinning from his words and body boiling with a newfound sexual desire. Sipping on the glass of your drink to calm yourself as you assured him it was fine, telling him it was no big deal.

But, holy fuck.

[sim0nril3y]

Home

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After an incident in your home you made the decision to move in together. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), very soft, talk of break-in, canon-typical swearing.

It was late evening, Simon had just gotten home himself from meeting with Price and Gaz, they met up and caught up on everything they’d missed in each other’s lives. He still couldn’t bring himself to speak about you in front of them, still wanting to keep you a secret, keep you safe from any parts of his life that could put you in danger. He’d kept quiet even when Price spoke about some pretty thing he’d been seeing and when Gaz brought up the posh bird he'd met at a wedding.

He'd asked for you to call when you got home from work, his phone buzzing as he entered his home caught his attention. Smiling, answering and bringing it up to his ear as he asked. “Get home alright-” The words died in his throat as he heard the sounds of your little hiccups and sobs. “What’s happened? Where are you?” As soon as Simon had entered his home, he’d walked straight back out of it in the direction of his car. “I’m on my way…”

The story was that your flat had been broken into whilst you’d been out at work. The place had been completely ransacked, anything valuable was gone, mostly everything else was trashed and destroyed. The lock on the door was completely busted now and ultimately you just felt vulnerable in your own space, it simply didn’t feel safe anymore.

The whole journey to your block of flats Simon was cursing himself. The one night that he didn’t come pick you up from work, the one night he was busy and focusing on himself you’d fucking needed him, you’d been sacred and alone and come back to your flat to find the door kicked open and worried that whoever had gotten in there might still be in there.

He took the stairs to the flat block two or three at a time, chasing up them to get to you. Everyone in the block seemed to be stirring from the police being on the scene, all out to watch this all unfold. You’d been standing outside of your flat allowing the police to look around the small space inside, searching for anything that might have been left behind in the wake of the chaos that had happened inside. Simon approached and wrapped his strong arms around your trembling form, pulling you into his chest and kissing your forehead as he muttered. “I’m here… I’m here…”

He calmed you. He coaxed you into his arms. He silently seethed about whatever little prick had let themselves into your home, your sanctuary and made their way off with your things, your personal items. Simon would hunt them down given the chance but now wasn’t the time to be raging, all his energy needed to be focused on you. “I know, babe. I know.” He muttered quietly, pulled into his arms, warm and safe in his embrace.

Soon enough the police were done, they advised strongly to stay elsewhere for the night, with a busted door and the place already targeted it was more vulnerable than ever. Simon was collecting some of your clothes into a bag whilst you wandered aimlessly around the rest of the small home, pausing for a long moment at your art supplies, kneeling down to inspect the canvas’. It hurt to see them trampled and discarded like this, just completely destroyed by some heartless thug.

“Y’okay?” The small voice of Simon came from behind you, glancing over your shoulder in his direction. You certainly didn’t look alright, you look so vulnerable, so betrayed in your own place. “I know…” He muttered gently, moving towards you to gently kneel down beside you and look at your canvas. “You’ll make better-”

You mentioned. “I’m too tired to do this.” And he understood, you’d just come home from work to find this horrific event had happened. It wasn’t fair and you didn’t need to process these emotions right now. No, right now, he just needed to get you someplace safe where you could rest your head for a few hours and deal with everything else in the morning.

Following that incident it didn’t take long for the two of you to come to the decision that moving in together would be for the best. Honestly, he thought he’d have a little more difficulty taking that step, but with all that had happened the idea of having you live under the same roof as him, having you around all the time, waking up together, simply knowing that you were safe filled him with this sense of relief and completion.

Everything was set into motion from then, you took to cancelling your tenancy on the flat and the process to move you into Simon’s home was put into effect. With all that was left in your flat it didn’t take much to box up all the remaining furniture and items, three or four trips back and forth from the flat to the house was all it took to move everything over. That was it settled; you were living together.

Simon was holding a box labelled ‘art supplies’ stepping past you to head upstairs. “You can just put it in the garage.” You suggested, after having most of your art destroyed the appeal to make anything new wasn’t inside of you, unsure if it was temporary or permanent you boxed your things away for now to deal with at a later time. “S’alright…” He mentioned, continuing to stomp upstairs. “I’ll put it in your art room.” He commented, now this was enough to make your brow furrow.

“What?” You then proceeded to chase upstairs behind him, following him into the spare room and coming to a stop to see Simon had kitted it out with all the supplies that had been destroyed in the break-in, even a new easel facing to look out the window into the beautiful back garden scenery. “This… is for me?”

It had been something that Simon had noticed that you’d been lacking expressing yourself creatively, usually he’d find you holed up creating something new, or working on an old piece… but since the break-in you’d been almost avoiding it. Placing down the box in his hands he replied. “Well, yeah… you don’t think it’s all for me, do ya?” He asked with a raised brow looking at you, a teasing tone to his voice which made you smile subtly. “Can’t put this stuff in the garage, anyway, got my weights down there.” He informed you with a non-committal shrug.

You watched him for a moment before rushing over and wrapping your arms around him, hugging onto him as tight as you could manage. Simon hugged your back, placing a hand on the back of your head and rubbing your back in a soothing way. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his throat. There was so much that you were thankful to him for but allowing you the space to find that creative side to yourself again was something you’d be eternally grateful to him for. “Thank you.”

“S’alright, babe.” Simon replied, kissing the top of your head and holding you securely in his arms. “You’re safe now.” He muttered, probably more to himself that even you. “You’re home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 20-01-2025

[thetrialsandtribulationsofeb]

i just realized that eddie probably loves buck’s yapping and knowledge of random facts because he’s had a very different life experience

buck was a free spirit who lived a million lives before he settled in the 118. i bet the stories about all the shenanigans in his youth are interesting to hear (“that’s your big regret in life?” “i mean, i basically did everything else before i became a firefighter, so, yeah, no, i feel pretty good about my 20s”)

for eddie, buck is extremely smart - he’s both street-smart and naturally curious, and he knows a lot of little, random things about the world

meanwhile, buck thinks eddie is extremely smart because he was a soldier, an army medic, he has a silver star. he was married. he’s a dad. it’s all so different from buck’s own experience, and he’s in awe of eddie’s knowledge about the world

eddie knows things buck can’t, simply because he lived through things buck never did. but the same can be said about buck - he knows things eddie never had the chance to learn, because eddie was too busy being responsible for and taking care of everyone and everything else

so when they start hanging out, eddie admires buck just as much as buck admires eddie. buck’s often told he’s dumb, even if it’s said affectionately. but eddie doesn’t see him that way. he’s actually impressed by buck’s kind of intelligence and sees it as something valuable

“buck was on the pier when the tsunami hit, so he’s kinda obsessed with natural disasters”

"he takes christopher there all the time, got the place memorized”

and his reaction to buck coming up with crazy ideas during emergencies? he’s not dismissive - he’s intrigued, impressed, and proud

for eddie, buck’s random and sometimes “silly” or “useless” bits of knowledge are actually fascinating. it’s a whole new world for him. he loves his brain

and it must be really flattering for buck to know that the guy he sees as the epitome of coolness thinks he’s smart too. it’s got to be such a confidence boost. like, what do you mean this amazingly mature and competent guy, who literally went through war, is a great medic, had a wife, and is a great dad… likes “light-headed, scattered-brained” me? and adores the way i think and the way my mind works?

idk, it’s hard to explain exactly, but the difference between “buck begins” and “eddie begins” really highlights how different their levels of freedom to explore life have been

and when you compare it, you start to understand why they’re each other’s favorite guy (even though there are a million other reasons too)

[enavstars]

It's May, I love mermaids, I love pirates and I found a new favourite show; of course I had to do something.

And of course I made an au:

Obito is the captain of the ship called the Akatsuki, but he belongs to the fleet of the Uchiha with Madara as its admiral.

The rest of the crew are the other members of the Akatsuki and in this au they're more of a found family (as much as a bunch of lawless and ruthless pirates can be); they generally do like each other even if they don’t show it. Also Nagato and Konan are less insane because Yahiko is alive. They are the most feared pirate crew of the sea right after Madara's.

Kakashi is an abyssal mermaid/siren but because he's albino he's too noticeable and was used mostly as bait by the other sirens. That's why he eventually left them and tried to hunt on his own (to little success).

Obito meets Kakashi when he gets stranded on an island. After the events of the comic the rest of the crew appear and they capture Kakashi. He's brought on to the ship and into a water tank of sorts. When the Akatsuki discuss what to do with him, thinking on just selling him, he manages to make a deal with them: if he stays with them, he'll retrieve the valuables and gold that would be lost to the sea from the ships they attack and in exchange he'll eat the sailors that drown anyway. And of course, they're pirates (and insane), so they accept.

And now Obito and the Akatsuki have a simbiotic relationship with Kakashi. Along the way they end up liking Kakashi and of course at some point Obito and Kakashi fall in love.

(I'm very busy but I'd love to come up with designs for the rest of the Akatsuki as pirates... one day I will)

[hoe4hotchner]

hi! can i request a hotch fic with shy!reader? like the reader has been in the BAU for a while and is known to be quiet and they start trying to open more to the team (specifically hotch) and the reader jokingly keeps calling hotch “oldman” or “grandpa” and like they get rlly close and the team wonders if their dating or not? thank you!! :))

Old man | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: Fluff, Alcohol consumption somewhere in the middle, one kiss. WC: 1.3k

           Working at the BAU had been a whirlwind for you. You’d joined the team a little over a year ago, but even after all this time, you still found yourself feeling quiet and reserved around your colleagues. While they were all kind and welcoming, it wasn’t easy for you to open up, especially when everyone else seemed so close-knit. You were known as the team’s quiet one - efficient and hardworking, but not particularly outspoken.

           Your interactions with Hotch, however, had started to shift things. At first, you admired him from afar, his calm and composed demeanor had made you both nervous and intrigued. He was older, wiser, and had an air of authority that made you hesitate to speak up. But slowly, something began to change.

           It started with small things. Hotch would catch your eye during meetings, offering a slight nod or a barely-there smile when you shared an idea. You noticed how he’d linger after team briefings, giving you subtle encouragement in his own way, telling you that your insights were valuable. It was these small moments that made you feel more comfortable, and a little braver around him.

           Then, one day after a particularly grueling case, you found yourself standing by the coffee machine with Hotch. You were both exhausted, the silence between you comforting. You took a sip of your coffee and glanced at him, noticing how the lines around his eyes seemed a little deeper, the exhaustion written on his face.

           “You alright… old man?” you teased quietly, barely looking up from your cup as you spoke.

           For a moment, you weren’t sure how he’d take it, but when you glanced up, Hotch was smiling - an actual, soft smile that made something in your chest flutter.

           “Old man?” he repeated, with an amused arch of his brow.

           You shrugged, suppressing a grin. “You’ve been at this a lot longer than the rest of us, I mean except for Rossi,” you said, feeling a surge of bravery. “Just calling it like I see it.”

           Hotch chuckled, a sound you rarely heard from him. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his voice warm. “Though I don’t feel that old.”

           It was a small exchange, but it opened the floodgates. After that, the teasing became a regular occurrence. You’d throw in a playful “old man” here and there, and Hotch would respond with a dry comment about your youth and energy. The team noticed, of course they did. Morgan would give you side glances, smirking whenever you slipped the nickname into conversation, while JJ and Emily exchanged looks with each other.

           The banter became a way for you to feel more at ease, not just with Hotch but with the whole team. But there was something special about the way you and Hotch interacted, a certain closeness that wasn’t there with anyone else. He’d seek you out in quieter moments, asking how you were doing, offering advice on cases or just sharing a cup of coffee during the rare downtime. You started to open up more, sharing little pieces of yourself that you’d kept hidden for so long.

           Then the team began to wonder. You could see it in the way they observed the two of you. During briefings, when Hotch would speak directly to you, his voice a little softer than usual, you’d catch Morgan’s raised eyebrows or Rossi’s grin. JJ had asked you once, out of the blue, if you were seeing anyone. When you’d said no, she’d hummed in response, her eyes darting briefly to Hotch’s office.

           But you weren’t dating. At least, not in any official capacity. Sure, there were moments that felt like something more - like when Hotch would brush your hand as you passed files to each other or the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary when you were deep in thought. But neither of you had acknowledged it, not yet.

           One evening after a case, the team had gone out for drinks. You were sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, when Hotch slid into the seat beside you. You smiled at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, and leaned in slightly.

           “Old man, out at a bar? Didn’t think you had it in you,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his.

           He chuckled softly, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I’m full of surprises,” he said, his voice was low.

           You sipped your wine, feeling bolder than usual, perhaps from the alcohol, or maybe just because it was Hotch. “Guess I’ll have to stick around long enough to see them,” you replied, your tone playful but with a hint of something more.

           Hotch turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d like that.”

           Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. There it was again - that tension, the unspoken connection between the two of you that was growing stronger by the day. You smiled softly, the warmth in your chest spreading.

           The team noticed. Over the next few weeks, the teasing from Morgan and Emily grew more frequent. “So… you and Hotch, huh?” Morgan had asked one afternoon when you were both working late.

           You’d blushed furiously, stammering something about it just being a joke, that you and Hotch were just colleagues, but Morgan didn’t seem convinced. “Sure, whatever you say, kid,” he’d said with a wink, leaving you flustered.

           But the truth was, even you weren’t sure anymore. You and Hotch had grown close - closer than you’d ever imagined when you first joined the BAU. He made you feel seen, appreciated, and more comfortable in your own skin. And as much as you teased him about the age gap, there was something about Hotch that made you feel safe, cherished.

           One evening, after the rest of the team had gone home, you found yourself in Hotch’s office, helping him sort through case files. The room was quiet, the only sound was the rustling of papers and the occasional hum of the air conditioning. You’d just handed him a report when his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

           You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Hotch's gaze softened, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “We’re not… you know, dating, are we?”

           The question hung in the air momentarily, and you immediately regretted asking it. But then Hotch smiled a soft, almost tender smile that made your heart race.

           “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “But I wouldn’t mind if we were.”

           Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, wide-eyed. He stepped closer, his fingers grazing your hand, and you felt the familiar warmth of his touch.

           “Well… what are you waiting for, old man?” you teased, your voice shaking slightly with nervousness and excitement.

           Hotch chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I guess I’ll just have to stop being so old-fashioned.”

           And with that, he closed the gap between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was gentle, sweet, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest.

           “So… we’re dating now?” you asked softly, your fingers curling around his.

           He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Looks like it.”

           And from that moment on, the team didn’t have to wonder anymore.

[guiltyandashamed]

headcannons: MC who is easily flustered

Face turning red, stumbling over words, eyes darting away at the smallest teasing gesture—you’ve basically handed each of the brothers a brand-new obsession on a silver platter. Here’s how they react:

Lucifer

He notices immediately. The first time you stammer under his gaze or blush at a compliment, he files it away like valuable intel. He doesn't exploit it constantly—he has standards—but every now and then, he'll lean just a little closer when speaking, drop your name in that low voice of his, and smirk when you freeze.

“You’re very reactive tonight, MC. Something on your mind?”

It's not just amusement, he likes how honest your reactions are. In a world of lies and masks, your flustered state is a rare kind of sincerity. He treasures it… quietly, and with a hint of pride.

Mammon

Absolutely obsessed. The second he realizes you get flustered easily, it becomes his new favorite pastime. He lives for it. Winks, sly touches, cocky grins; it’s game over for your composure.

“Wha—did ya just blush? Hey! Don’t hide your face, c’mon, let me see!”

He gets all flustered himself after teasing you too much, though. Like he short-circuits watching you squirm and then goes red too, stammering, “A-Anyway! Quit lookin’ at me like that, damn…”

He’ll deny it to death, but he thinks you’re adorable.

He short-circuits right alongside you. The moment you get flustered, he mirrors it with double the intensity.

Leviathan

“You—you’re blushing?! Because of me?!”

Then he spirals. “W-wait, does that mean you actually like me?! I mean, you must a little, right?! Oh my god, this is just like in My Demon Prince Falls for a Human!”

He’ll still tease you, but only after he recovers from his own internal meltdown. Expect mutual embarrassment, accidental hand-holding, and a lot of him shrieking into a pillow later.

Satan

He finds it fascinating. And completely irresistible. He loves testing the boundaries, an innocent compliment, a whispered phrase near your ear, brushing your hand with his fingers just to see you twitch.

“It’s so easy to read you… You’re like an open book.”

He’ll tease gently, never cruelly, but he’s definitely studying your reactions like he’s trying to write a thesis on them. And if someone else flusters you? Expect narrowed eyes and a possessive arm around your waist next time you pass him in the hall.

Asmodeus

He lives for this.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed! Look at that blush! Is it me? Or is it just my presence?”

He’ll take you apart with fluttering lashes and sultry praise, draping over you like a satisfied cat. He thrives on your every squirm, every nervous glance. And when he’s feeling generous, he’ll soothe you with a soft smile and a gentle, “Relax, darling… I’ll be gentle.”

(He absolutely won’t. But the way you react? Worth every second.)

Beelzebub

At first, he’s confused. “Are you okay? Your face is red.”

Once he realizes it’s just you being flustered from his closeness or compliments, he goes quiet for a second… then smiles softly. “I think that’s really cute.”

Beel doesn’t tease much, but he’ll do little things intentionally once he knows it flusters you, standing closer, resting a hand on your shoulder, casually lifting you out of the way with one arm (feeling his muscles, you almost pass out). He’s a walking fluster trap and doesn’t even mean to be.

Belphegor

He finds it hilarious. The second you blush at something he says, he’s grinning like a devil.

“Oho? You’re that easy, huh?”

Belphie teases in a lazy, low voice, usually while lounging across your lap or invading your space in that way that makes your brain short-circuit. He lives to watch you cover your face.

But he also finds it... weirdly endearing. You’re soft around the edges in a way that makes him want to pull you close and bury his face in your neck.

“Don’t worry,” he’ll murmur when you’re red and hiding. “I like you like this.”

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 23

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 22 | Series Masterlist | Part 24

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.8k

Chapter Summary: Bucky wants answers from Clark.

Chapter Warnings: Heavy violence, torture, blood, talk of assault, threats, obsession, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), Bucky's POV, more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight. Thank you again for sticking with me, and this is our first chapter from Bucky's POV! This is a heavy chapter, so proceed with caution. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes wasn't a good man. He figured that out a long time ago. He believed he had good qualities deep down thanks to his mom, but they didn't surface a lot in his line of work or way of life. They couldn’t, otherwise he would’ve been eaten alive. So he took a page out of his dad’s book, as much as he would never admit it, and made sure he was on top in his world. He thrived as a king, even though he had no queen to share his life with.

Until you came along.

He sighed, gazing at a photo of you on his phone. He brushed his finger along the screen, his heart aching from how beautiful you were. Loving you should've been a weakness, but it made him feel invincible. You were so wonderfully different from the people he surrounded himself with- unafraid to call him out on his bullshit, leading with kindness, and too pure for the world he lived in. He knew that, but he was too selfish to let you go because you brought light back into his life.

He had to be careful not to snuff it out.

“Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky stared at your photo for a few seconds longer. “Hmm?”

“You ready?”

Looking down the hall at his office door, his heart clenched. He logically knew you were safe and sound with Natasha, but he wanted to rush back to you and not let you out of his sight. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, let you know that-

“Buck?” Steve gently asked.

Turning away, he shook his head. He’d have you back in his arms soon enough, and he had business to take care of. “Yeah.” He smirked and tucked his phone away. “I think we let our guest squirm long enough.”

His blood boiled with each step he took, anger etched in his features as he descended to the club basement. It was an area that only select staff and men had access to, the ones he had introduced you to. He’d never bring you down there. You’d already have enough nightmares thanks to everything that had happened and he didn’t want to give you one more.

The men scattered around the room stood silently as he made it to the last step. The tension was thick enough to choke on, most of them likely wondering who Clark was and why he was worth the trouble of shutting down the club for the night. No one asked though. No one breathed a word.

“Gentlemen,” he smiled, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Before I introduce the guest of honor for the evening, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that whatever happens down here stays down here.”

He shrugged his jacket off as he noted a few nods and grunts of acknowledgement. Trust wasn’t easy. Neither was loyalty. He had no reason to doubt anyone in this room though, and there was no reason to threaten any of them.

“Good. Hal, would you mind pouring me a drink?” he asked as if he had all the time in the world. “Jake?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m here,” he said, taking a step forward.

Bucky had to smile. Curtis and Ari stood beside Jake, almost like they were protecting him, but he didn’t need protection. Jake was strong in his own right, and one of the smartest men he knew. He was a valuable asset, even if he didn’t always agree with his methods.

“You get that file I asked about?” Bucky took the glass from Hal while Jake nodded quickly. “Why don’t you tell everyone about him before we bring him out here?”

Jake pushed his glasses up. “M… Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he answered, casually sipping his whiskey.

“Sure.” The former military Captain retrieved a small tablet from his bag and swiped a few times. “The guy tied up in the closet is Kal, renamed Clark Joseph Kent after he was adopted by Jonathan and Martha Kent. Only child, and grew up on a farm in Kansas. Been in and out of therapy for anger management.” That may have explained part of why he snapped. “He moved to Metropolis years ago and worked for The Daily Planet. Moved here over a year ago to work for The Tribune.”

Thor chuckled, taking a sip from his own tumbler. “What is this? Did Kent try to write a scathing article about you? I thought everyone at The Tribune was on our payroll.”

Bucky understood why Thor thought that. Just about everyone in the room had done something worthy of attracting the wrong sort of attention, which they always made sure got buried. “Not this one, and we’ll get to why he’s here,” Bucky said, motioning for Jake to continue.

Jake cleared his throat. “He was recently discussing moving to Gotham to work for The Gotham Gazette. Bruce Wayne even wrote him a letter of recommendation before he was hired.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew who Bruce Wayne was. Rich, brilliant, basically Tony Stark without the ego. Clark wasn’t kidding when he said he had a powerful friend, but he had been leaning toward Zemo being that friend.

Was Clark planning to drag you to Gotham? The thought of another man trying to take you out of the city made him want to commit violence. And he would soon enough.

“Did you find anything on a woman named Lois?” Bucky asked. You told Bucky that he had recently split with his girlfriend, and you also asked to find out what happened to her. If anyone could find out anything, Jake could, and Bucky didn’t want to let you down.

Jake swiped twice. “Yeah. Lois Lane. Moved here with Clark and also a journalist, but she wasn’t working for The Tribune and she stopped going to work about a month ago. Emailed her resignation notice to her boss. Didn’t even go in to get her stuff.” He looked around the room. “I don’t… I don’t think anyone has really seen her.”

Bucky’s stomach sank a bit. He didn’t know Lois, but he knew it would break your heart if something happened to her. “You still in contact with Pooch and Cougar?” Jake nodded. The men weren't necessarily on his payroll, but they were loyal to Jake. “Send them to Clark’s place. Find out anything you can, and find her.”

“As fascinating as this all sounds, what does this have to do with any of us?” Nick asked, looking as bored as he sounded.

“Well, Clark has also been spotted talking with Helmut Zemo,�� Jake said, his face a bit pale under Bucky’s stare. “But I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”

Bucky took another sip. So, Clark had been speaking with Zemo. And Zemo was either smart enough not to leave a paper trail, or he spoke with Clark in areas where Jake couldn’t hack nearby cameras. No matter. He’d find out why soon enough. “Good work, Jake.”

“You shut down the club and brought us down here for a guy who was spotted speaking with Zemo? That doesn’t make any sense,” Sam said.

“No, it doesn’t.” Bucky made sure to look at every single one of them before he stated, “The reason he’s here is because he put his hands on my Kotyonok, and you know what that means.”

Bucky briefly closed his eyes, your screams still echoing in his mind. He wasn’t a man who scared easily, but what happened tonight scared him. He could’ve lost you, and you could’ve lost a part of yourself if they had been minutes later. The worst part was that he hadn’t seen it coming, not completely. He knew what to expect from certain players and had to protect you, but he hadn’t anticipated someone like Clark. Someone who wasn’t in the normal circle of enemies.

It nearly cost him, and he would make him pay.

The atmosphere shifted immediately, and Steve had to pull Thor back when he took a step forward. “Unhand me, Rogers,” he gritted.

“She’s not your woman,” Steve reminded him, not letting him go just yet. “And since she isn’t your woman, you don’t get to decide who gets first blood.”

Thor took a deep breath. “My apologies, Barnes.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I appreciate that you’re protective of my girl,” he said sincerely. You needed protection, even if you didn’t want it from them. “Ari, Jax, put him in the middle of the room. I want to talk before we punish him.”

As much as he wanted to make Clark hurt, he did need some answers first.

Jax and Ari didn’t have to be told twice, dragging a tied up Clark out of the dark closet. He had a bag covering his head, but there were no marks or wounds, save for the ones he received in your apartment. His shoes and socks had been removed, too, and his blood would stain the tarp beneath him soon enough.

Nodding to the men, they shoved Clark unceremoniously to the floor before Jax pulled the bag off. Clark’s face was screwed up in fury, his blue eyes blazing as they darted around the room, but his words were muffled by the gag. Part of Bucky hoped he fought. It would make things more interesting.

Looking at the prick in front of him, he told himself that this was all for you. All for the woman who occupied his every waking thought. It didn't matter what he looked at or who was speaking to him, his mind found a way to tie anything and everything back to you. And it wasn't just his mind. Oh, no. Sight, touch, hearing, taste, smell, you ensnared his senses.

Nothing and no one had control over Bucky Barnes except for you.

“Kal or Clark or whatever the fuck your name is, welcome to the basement of The 107th!” Bucky smiled, deliberately slow clapping. “Do you like it? Soundproof walls so your screams aren’t heard upstairs and a tarp underneath you so you don’t get blood on my floor.”

Clark paled slightly, but it didn’t lessen the anger in his eyes.

“Now before my men and I have some fun with you, and it will be fun for us, I have a few questions to ask,” he explained, giving him a dark smile and pushing a button on the far right wall. It opened up to reveal a range of weapons, each one more deadly than the last. “If you don’t answer or if I think you’re lying, I’ll start by cutting off a toe. Is that understood?”

He motioned for Ari to remove the gag. “Go fuck yourself,” Clark growled.

Bucky sighed and ran his finger along some of the weapons. “So many options. What should I choose first?”

“The blowtorch could be fun,” Nick smirked when Clark squirmed. “Though the smell of burning flesh isn't.”

“You could start with the pliers.” Thor elbowed Sam with a chuckle. “Though I prefer a hammer.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, Thor, we all know how much you love using hammers to hurt people.”

“You're really going to skip your signature weapon?” Steve asked. The men all knew how fond he was of knives.

Bucky hummed and picked a sharp and sleek blade after careful consideration. “Curtis, since you were the one who got to my girl’s apartment first, I think it’s only fair that you get the first punch.”

Curtis didn’t hesitate to march forward and grab Clark by the hair. The fury in Clark’s eyes paled in comparison to Curtis’s. “You would’ve raped her if we hadn’t gotten there in time, you piece of shit,” he snarled, his fist connecting with Clark’s mouth.

“He what?!” Thor shouted. Steve and Sam both had to hold him back this time.

Bucky felt the same surge of anger. He pushed your limits, but he wouldn’t force himself on you. He wasn’t that kind of monster.

“Stand down, Thor. You’ll get your hits in,” he promised, needing to keep himself in check so he didn’t just outright kill Clark. “First question- Why did you go after my girl?”

To go after you was to go after him, and he took it personally.

Clark spit blood on the tarp. “Your girl? You mean the girl you forced to be by your side?” he laughed, grating on Bucky’s nerves. “Oh, I know all about that. She’s a kind and good person, so you either forced her to be with you or lied to her since she wouldn’t be yours willingly if she knew who you were.”

His nostrils flared. He wanted to believe you were with him because you wanted to be his girl, but he knew the truth. If he hadn’t forced your hand… “Hold him,” he ordered, stepping forward with the knife.

Clark struggled in Ari and Jax’s hold. “I went after her because I wanted her, okay? She’s nice and she needed me to save her from you!” he shouted, his eyes wide when Bucky gripped his ankle. “I answered your question!”

“Save her? Were you planning on taking her to Gotham?” he asked, the blade nicking his big toe.

Clark hissed. “Yes! She’s a florist, she can do that anywhere.”

“If you knew my girl the way I do, you’d know this place is her home and she wouldn’t want to go to Gotham,” he said. Gotham would never be your home. Nowhere else would.

“She would’ve accepted it eventually because needs me.” No, you didn’t. “He said so.”

“Who?” he pressed. “Who said so?”

Clark hesitated before the blade dug in again. “Helmut Zemo!”

Bucky froze. “Why would Zemo tell you that, and how do you know him?” He didn’t want to believe Zemo was stupid enough to set this up, but he’d fight if he wanted a war.

“He approached me, okay? Said he knew I stopped into the flower shop to see her, and alluded to the fact that a dangerous man recently trapped her into a relationship.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He said if she stayed with you it would ruin her, but someone like me could be a hero and help her.”

Clark was no hero. “Do you work for him?” Bucky asked. Was he on his payroll?

“No. Zemo and I talked some more, but I don’t work for him. I’m just a journalist.”

Bucky scoffed, but he believed him. Zemo could stir the pot when he wanted to and feed into anyone’s ego. He knew just what to say to Clark to light a fire under him. “But he told you to help her, and how did you do that? You stalked, scared, and attacked her.” He pointed the blade at Clark’s face, wanting to slice his skin off and carve out his eyes. The irony also wasn’t lost on him that he had stalked and scared you, he was more than aware of that. “You’re a monster.”

“No, I’m not,” Clark said through his teeth.

“Yes, you are because you pretend that you’re a nice guy, but you’re a piece of shit just like the rest of us. You said you wanted to help her, but it was all about you. And you couldn’t accept the fact that she rejected you and your help, and you snapped,” he said. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and Zemo encouraged him to go after you. He wanted to gut him for that. “Were you planning to get her out of the city tonight?”

“Yes. We knew she was going to the winery and I thought it was the perfect opportunity, but I also thought she would’ve been a bit more… docile when she came back.” Clark shifted uncomfortably. “I told the driver to slip something in her drink if he had to, but he either didn’t or she didn’t drink it because she was too alert.”

Bucky’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t hit him. You had asked about your poor friends, and your suspicions seemed to be correct. He was thankful you weren’t drugged, otherwise tonight would’ve been much worse. “The driver, did you pay him? Promise him anything?”

“That was all Zemo. I’m not made of money,” Clark answered easily.

It made sense. Zemo paid the driver to take off, which gave Clark the opportunity to ambush you. Steve would have to hold Bucky back when he got his hands on Zemo. “Where’s he now?” he asked Nick. He wanted the driver brought to the club.

Nick nodded to another door. “Second closet. Nice and cozy.”

“I’ll be sure he knows you sold him out before I put a bullet between his eyes,” he promised Clark. Anyone who couldn’t stay loyal had no business breathing. Anyone who set you up to get hurt or worse didn't have a place in his world.

A bitter laugh came out. “I guess killing’s easy for a guy who murdered his own flesh and blood.”

“My own flesh and blood?” he asked, holding up a hand when Steve stepped forward. “No, no. I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Your dad. You murdered him. Hid your tracks pretty well, but I know what you did,” Clark smirked, but Bucky didn’t flinch. What happened to you scared him, but this prick didn’t scare him in the least. “I have quite a few articles ready to go about you, your dad, and some of your other indiscretions. You may be rich and powerful, but you can't buy off everyone.”

Bucky laughed this time. Stories never made it to the pages, his men made sure of that. “Yeah. I killed my father. So what?” he said nonchalantly. “I did the world a favor by getting rid of that piece of shit.”

He should've killed his dad a long time ago for what he did to his mom. And if your parents ever hurt you again, he wouldn't hesitate to ruin their lives. It was the least he could do for you.

That was how much he loved you.

Fear flashed across Clark’s face at his indifference. If it was so easy for him to kill a member of his family, it wouldn’t be any skin off his back to kill anyone else. “You-”

“And your plan was to… what? Get my girl out of the city, and you’d release articles about me? The Tribune works for me, and you know they’d never release them, which you probably hate.” He tilted his head. “But The Gotham Gazette doesn’t work for me.”

Clark’s mouth fell open. “How the hell did-”

“This is starting to make a little more sense,” he said, twirling the knife in his hand as he smiled at Steve. “He gets my girl to Gotham where he thinks I have no jurisdiction since it’s Bruce Wayne’s territory and he’s a friend of his. But to make sure I really don’t step foot in the city, he releases articles about me claiming that I killed my dad along with some other indiscretions that’ll spread like wildfire so that I’m either arrested or confined to my city. Makes sense, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, it does,” Steve replied, crossing his arms.

“Is that right? Am I on the right track?” he asked Clark, who squared his shoulders and didn’t answer. Losing his patience, he made good on his word and brought the knife down on his big toe. The scream of pain only fueled his fire.

Clark screamed and made the mistake of looking at his foot, quickly turning his head away to dry heave. Bucky hoped he got sick. Hoped he choked on it. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled.

“Son of a bitch? My mother was a fucking saint. My girl saved her, and what did you do to my girl?! You put your hands on her. You hurt her!” he roared and brought the knife down again, blood splattering on the tarp. None of the men looked phased by his anger or the violence. “Everyone I’ve killed was a monster and I’m glad they’re dead, but what’s your excuse, huh? Why did you kill Lois? Did she see you for what you really are?”

Clark tried to breathe evenly through the pain. “I didn’t… I didn’t kill her! I just wanted to teach her a lesson for trying to leave me,” he replied. What the hell was wrong with this man? He hoped Pooch and Cougar got some answers. “Same with ‘your’ girl. If she had just grabbed that coffee with me, I could’ve explained, but she just had to fight.”

Bucky was proud that you fought and called out to him for help when you needed it. And he knew you would’ve never gone with Clark if he told you the truth, not even for a chance to escape him. “You know, I almost want to thank you.”

“What?” Clark’s brows pinched.

“I dreamt of so many ways to bring her closer to me, and thanks to you she’s in my home where she belongs even sooner than I planned. You handed her to me on a silver platter, and we’re going to be so happy together,” he smiled.

In the beginning, Bucky debated staging something where he got to be your hero, but he ultimately decided against it. There were too many elements that would’ve been out of his control. Not to mention, the thought of another man putting their hands on you made him see red, and it would’ve frightened you.

He still chose to frighten you instead of courting you correctly. Deep down he knew if he had approached you like a normal person that there would be a chance you’d decide to leave him when you realized what kind of man he was. He couldn’t have that, so he deliberately scared you. Power and control was what worked in his world, and trapping you with fear and subtle threats against loved ones made you join his side.

Now that you were in his home where you belonged, it would be a reset of sorts. He’d pick up the pieces that Clark and Zemo broke, as well as the damage he’d done himself. He’d also have to earn your love and keep it. He would because he was a determined man and there was no one else for him.

“You really are a sick-”

“I get why you wanted her, I really do,” Bucky continued. You were an angel on earth, a woman who could disarm the strongest man with a mere smile, beautiful with a loving heart, someone who deserved the entire world. “And you see, I scare her, I know I do, but you?” He pointed the knife at him again. “Your actions terrified her, and you pushed her right to me. She doesn’t want to see you ever again. She doesn’t even want to remember that you exist.”

Clark’s shoulders slumped. Was he losing his will to fight? “Just let her go. Let me go, and I'll make sure the stories stay buried.”

“You think you're in any sort of position to threaten me?” he asked. Clark was nothing, and he could see Jake out of the corner of his eye working his magic. Wherever those pending articles were, he’d find them and get rid of them for good. “And I’m never letting her go. She’s mine.”

Clark’s lip raised in a snarl. “I think that if the public were to get wind of your escapades, ‘your girl’ would be even less safe than she already is,” he said. Bucky didn’t want to agree with that because he did want you safe. “You don't want that, do you?”

“And now you're threatening my woman? Knowing that releasing those articles could potentially put her in danger?” Maybe he should cut his tongue out. “You may know things about me, but you must really not have done your research if you think I’d let you bring her harm again.”

“I've done more than enough research! Your dad isn't the only man you've killed, you said it yourself, and those victims have friends and family who would love to hurt your loved ones in return,” he snapped, starting to sweat. “You can't keep her safe forever.”

“You hurt her. You threw her to the ground and put your fucking hand around her throat,” he growled. Zemo may have fueled the flames for Clark, but something still wasn’t quite right. “At any point when Zemo spoke with you, did he tell you to put a hand on her or tell you why he hates me?”

Zemo hated Bucky because of what happened to his wife and son, though Bucky hadn’t been the one to kill them or order their deaths. If he gave Clark an order to physically harm you, it would be his death sentence because that was a line no one could come back from. He knew that. Was he that eager to die?

“No. He never said why he hated you and he didn’t tell me to hurt her,” he admitted, with regret on his face for the first time that evening. “In fact, he told me I should be very careful with her because she was innocent and important to you.”

Bucky stared into his eyes. The fucker was actually telling the truth. Jake mentioned he had been in and out of therapy for anger management. Your rejection must’ve overridden Zemo’s warning in his head. Zemo still had a price to pay though. But how?

“She isn’t just important to me. She’s my whole world.” Bucky’s metal hand curled, having to stop himself from stabbing the fucker in the heart. “And you almost took her from me,” he growled.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Clark whispered, but he did and he couldn’t take it back.

Clark's words infuriated Bucky, his fist connecting with his jaw. He wanted him to suffer until his dying breath for what he did to you. He wanted to send a message to Zemo and anyone else who thought they could harm what was his and get away with it. “Gentlemen, I want you to pay close attention to this audio,” he announced, pushing himself to his feet and pulling out his phone. “There will be a quiz after,” he added sarcastically.

Clark winced when your scream rang out from the device. “Bucky, help! Help me, please!”

It took everything in Bucky not to crush his phone as the audio continued, bile rising to his throat. Hearing your raw fear, being attacked in a place that you made your own, was something that would haunt him until his dying breath. And as he looked around the room, carefully taking in the furious and shocked expressions of his men, he knew they were thinking of their own partners or future spouses and how they’d react if someone did to them what Clark dared to do to you.

The only sound in the room when the audio stopped was Clark’s heavy breathing. He was the pig presented for slaughter, and he knew it. Good.

“How many times did Kotyonok say my name?” Bucky asked his men, his voice calmer than he expected.

“Three times, boss,” Raymond answered right away.

Bucky snapped his fingers. “That’s right, Ray. Three times. So, Clark, I’ll be taking three of your fingers as payment.” Clark thrashed, but his strength was no match compared to Jax and Ari. “And I’ll make sure every bone in your other hand is shattered since you tried to choke her.”

“Y-You-”

“We should castrate you, too, because I agree with Curtis. You would've raped her if we hadn't shown up in time.” He stomped hard on Clark's crotch, and smirked when all that came out was a breathless scream. The thought of another man inside you was enough to piss him off, but someone trying to take you by force? He wouldn't let that go. “We’ll cut your pathetic dick off, too.”

“No!” Clark wheezed, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. It was impressive that he could still talk. “You can’t do that!”

Bucky’s chilling laughter echoed in the room. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes and this is my city, so I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he boasted. Clark couldn’t touch him or escape. “And you fucked with my woman, so I’m going to torture you and enjoy every second of it.”

“You can’t-”

“I won’t kill you tonight, no, but I’m going to make you suffer before I kill you. I’m going to make you suffer for hurting my girl, for making her cry, for breaking the trinkets in her apartment, everything.” He ignored Clark’s shouts and pointed at Steve. “As my best friend and one of the guys who helped tonight, you get the next hit once I cut his fingers off, followed by Raymond.” He heard Thor huff from where he stood. “Followed by Thor.”

“I want to be the one to break his hand,” Thor said before he smirked. “With my hammer.”

“Done.” Bucky gestured to the rest of the men. “You can decide the order after that, but don't kill him. I want him to beg for death by the time we’re done with him.”

And it didn't matter if Clark begged for his life because he’d never leave this basement alive.

“You don’t deserve her!” Clark spat.

Bucky’s heart twisted when he pictured your face, how you flinched at this touch, your tears from everything you went through since he came into your life. “No, I don’t,” he agreed. At least, he didn’t deserve you yet. He had a lot of making up to do when it came to you, but he had all the time in the world since he wasn’t letting you go. You possessed him body, mind, heart, and soul, and he would weave the strings of fate as tight as he could to keep you. “But neither do you.”

His hand shot out and wrapped around Clark’s throat. “Stop,” he gasped, unable to move with Ari and Jax holding him firm.

“You didn't stop, and I can't forgive that. No amount of begging, money, anything will spare you. And when I go home tonight, I’ll wipe away her tears, and kiss her sweet lips, and I’ll slowly put her back together and make good on that promise that she’ll forget you existed,” he smiled, squeezing harder. “I hope when you take your last breath that you imagine her calling out my name, and you die knowing that she’s going to live a long and happy life by my side as my wife.”

Something inside of Bucky shut down when he released his throat and cut off the first finger, feeling numb to the cries of pain as Clark tried to yank his hand away. He hadn't felt a thing when he killed his dad, and he refused to feel remorse for Clark’s suffering. His fingers brought you harm, so he was more than happy to get rid of them.

He glanced at his men by the time he finished removing the third. Steve and Thor saw you as a sister, someone to care for. Ray had a soft spot for you whether he would admit it or not. Jax and Hal harmlessly flirted with you. Nick took any slight against a friend's partner as a slight against himself. The rest of the men knew what you meant to him.

And he wanted them to destroy anything that brought you pain.

“He touched what belongs to me. Hurt him for hurting her,” he ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion as he let them go to work.

Steve kicked Clark square in the face, his nose crunching under the heavy force. Bucky didn't smile, didn't blink. Every drop of blood, every scream, every punch and kick and blow was justified. Thor was right when he said you were the queen of The 107th, and he and his men protected and defended their queen. And none of them showed Clark any mercy.

This is all for you, Kotyonok.

Clark’s cries and screams diminished to whimpers and ragged breaths. His handsome face was hardly recognizable anymore, and he was somehow still conscious. That made Bucky happy. He hoped he felt every ounce of pain.

“Pooch and Cougar may have found Lois! She isn't in good shape, but she’s alive!” Jake called out. He was the only one who hadn't gotten a hit on Clark, but that was okay. He was doing what he had to do. “And those stories won't get released. I made sure of it.”

Bucky didn't react. Instead, he stared at the blood soaking the tarp and thought about buying you flowers. With petals as soft as your skin that smelled just as sweet. That would put a smile on your face, right? He just wanted to make you smile.

And he wanted you to wear his mother's ring. Not the gaudy ring his dad gave her. No, you’d wear his mom's family ring, a timeless and beautiful heirloom passed down from generation to generation. And he’d make love to you after he proposed. He’d make sure you knew how much he loved you.

“Buck?” Steve asked when he didn't say anything to Jake. “Do you want Clark put back in the closet?”

“String him up. Keep it warm enough down here so he doesn't freeze. I’ll decide when he dies.” Bucky’s eyes were still cold when he looked at his best friend. “If Lois really is alive, we’ll make sure she gets the best medical treatment and assure her that Clark will never go near her again.”

That's what you would want for Lois because you were a good person.

“The driver?” Steve asked, nodding to another door.

“I’ll deal with him later.”

Steve nodded. “And what about Zemo?”

“We find him and make him talk,” he said. They couldn't kill him without causing ripples throughout the city, so they had to tread carefully.

“No need to look far, boss,” Ray said, pushing his glasses up. “Yelena followed him and he’s just outside of the club. He hasn't left his vehicle.”

Bucky exchanged a look with Steve before he took a gun from the wall. He couldn't kill Zemo, but he’d defend himself if he had to. “Let’s invite him in and give him a proper welcome.”

Fury filled him all over again knowing you were upstairs, but he wouldn’t let Zemo get to you. He wouldn’t let you down this time. And when he was done dealing with that problem, he’d bring you home, hold you tight, and whisper in your ear how much he loved you when you fell asleep.

Because you were his happy ending, and no one would take that away from him.

Whew! You still with me lovelies? How will the talk with Zemo go? How long before Bucky kills Clark? And I have to say, as fun as Bucky's POV was, I miss Kotyonok! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[midnghtprentiss]

yours - jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

a/n: this is for “ a doctor day” which i am so happy to be a part of. it took me some time to think about something cool but i tried my best to work with this prompt. so i really really really hope you enjoy it as much as me. i tried to be subtle about the color cause in my head it means something really bigger. 

a big thank you to @letsgobarbs @ananonymousaffair @clubsoft for creating this project!!!

prompt: The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless.

color: pink.

word count: +3k

Everything started with an offer for you to go teach at a hospital in London. You were so excited, it was your dream since medical school and you’ve worked hard to experience the things you always wanted. It started small: residency, then you got masters and a doctorate. The job offer wasn’t out of the blue, they were watching your every move, gluing to the details of your incredible brain. 

You loved working at the ED, the adrenaline, the sight of doing something good and to actually do what you loved. You found valuable things there: friends, family and love. You found Jack there. He was your rock, the biggest supporter you could ever get and he couldn’t get in the way of you getting what you always wanted. The moment you told him what they offered he knew being selfish would kill him and letting you go would kill him either. 

The breakup was clean with a lot of tears and feelings. Too many words were said meaning the same thing: you loved him and he loved you more than anyone. 

“Will you miss me?” You whispered, cuddled with him. 

“Every day til you come back to me.” He smelled your hair, pulling you closer. 

So he let you go, even if meant to put his plans on stand by. The house, the ring, the children. He would wait and so did you. 

The day you left was the day he lost himself in his own mind. Jack was quieter, more introspective and a little sadder, Robby pointed out for Dana once. He was still capable of doing his job, of course he was. But you weren’t there to help him, to make funny remarks about him or to share a candy bar when the chaos finally stopped. You weren’t there for him to take you home, in fact, you were making yourself a home somewhere else that wasn’t with him. 

He was terrified of you meeting another person that could easily erase him from your mind. The idea of you marrying someone else haunted him more often than he could admit. He would never forgive himself if the children of another man had the eyes of the girl he couldn’t forget - his girl.

You stopped talking to each other as a silent agreement. It was easy to do your jobs if the anxiety of someone waiting for the call or text wasn’t on your mind all the time. Suddenly three months became three years and the lump in your throat, the knot in Jack’s chest, got loose. 

The countless nights you almost called him to hear his voice or text to know how he was doing, if he was eating, sleeping and trying to be a normal person. Jack almost did the same too. He dialed your number and gave up, he wrote you letters and a journal to inform you about how he was dealing with the distance.

You moved on, made friends, got yourself a home with the things you only dreamed off before and got your shit together. You were a really popular name among the medical teaching. You did some impressive research, amazing experiments and innovations on the field, especially on emergency education, the top of your field. Jack watched you from afar the whole time, he read your papers, he watched your online classes, he did everything to keep you close to him. And he waited patiently for you. 

Pitt was watching you again, they needed someone like you to teach new doctors on the night shift and to take the hospital to the next level, so they offered you another deal. 

You accepted right away. No questions asked. 

Your first call was to Robby and Dana, you decided to let them know you were coming back to work at the hospital again. They were really happy, especially Dana for getting her coffee partner back. You thought about texting Jack, but the uncertain feeling if we ever wanted to hear about you again made you tremble with fear, so you didn’t. Perhaps he already knew you were coming back. 

He did. 

The cold Pittsburg breeze brought back the familiar memories once again. The laughter, the tears, the pain and the comfort. You needed that so bad, you almost didn’t feel the moisture on your cheeks and your heavy breathing. 

Nothing like home, right?

You got into the hospital fifteen minutes before your shift started. You were overjoyed to be there surrounded by so many familiar faces. Princess and Perlah were the first ones to see you, for a fraction of seconds you almost missed their hugs. 

“You are so back! Thank God.” Princess held you tighter, shaking you in her arms. 

“I’m so glad to be back.” They let you go and you went straight to the nursing station, catching Robby and Dana’s attention. 

“I can’t believe my eyes.” Robby’s words made you blush, embracing them. “We missed you here, London.” 

“London?” You questioned him with eyebrows raised. 

“Only the best of us came back, I’m glad you did.” Dana whispered, kissing your temple. 

“I can’t wait to see you making these guys peed in their pants.” 

“It’s going to be a pleasure to make them fear me.” Robby gasped, making you laugh a little louder. 

The nurses joined in for a warm hug and some small talk, even Garcia showed up to see you and you were really surprised to find out she’s literally dating a girl from the residency. She just mouthed you that you talk more later and moved back to the OR. You really missed those people and suddenly life was so much better and lighter. 

He was watching everything from the other side of the room. His heart filled with something he couldn’t give a name right away. You looked different in his eyes. Maybe your hair, your bone structure, your cheeks. He didn’t know. Still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.  You were there, so close to him and he was paralyzed. Frozen in his own world. 

Jack spent nights imagining how he would react when you come back, how he would take you in his arms and forget the rest about the rest, kiss your face and plead you to not walk away ever again, to make his arms home once more. But you were right there and he lost his ability to move and be a fucking person. 

You caught his eyes and gave him a shy smile. Not going straight to him, giving the time you knew he was going to need before doing something else and besides, you were so involved with the crew that for a millisecond you forgot about the butterfly in your stomach almost making you throw up there. 

He wasn’t ready to talk to you. Not yet. Jack heard the rumors, he knew you’ll be back soon to be in the hospital again. Same shift, same people, different you, different him. He hated the change. At the same time, he needed to have you right over there next to him to make sure you weren’t going anywhere far from him. His mind was racing with millions of things and most of them were about you.

By the time the shift started, you were already with the students, talking about your work and what you expect them to do and learned from you. They noticed how smillish and nice you seem just for the way you lead them through the trauma bay introducing one by one to the team. First Shen, who was too energetic by your return to stop talking and then Ellis, who were all sweet and great with everybody else. Bridget couldn’t keep her hands to herself, hugging you in all the opportunities she had. And then Jack, he was serious the whole time, shaking the students hands and quickly looking at you. 

“This is the night shift crew. If I’m not around you can always ask them for help. Doctor Shen is the sweetest person here but you don’t want to piss him off. Dr. Ellis is an amazing teacher if you want to learn something and I’m pretty sure you want to, again guys, don’t piss her off.” You took a deep breath and looked at him. “This is doctor Abbot, he is the best trauma surgeon here and if I were you, I’ll try to be nice to him, he’s a surprise box to solve problems and rage Dr. Walsh.”

You tried your best to focus on them, ignoring his hot gaze on your face, reading you microexpressions like it was his newspaper. His presence made you overwhelmed enough to stumble in a few words. They introduced themselves to them and led them to the patients they were looking for at night. 

Jack liked the new version of you. Confident, smarter, better. Watching you teach was absolutely incredible, you delivered everything without problems, making these kids really think and understand what took him years to do. The more he looked, the more he wanted to take you home and forget about the three years you were gone. 

“Want a picture, Abbot?” You teased him, leaning against the counter with a tablet in hand. 

“If looking at a pretty thing is a crime put me in the fucking jail.” He crossed his arms, locking your gaze. 

“Good to know your taste hasn't changed.” 

“We’re talking about something really serious and I don’t play about anything that revolves around you.” He admitted, coming closer to where you were. “You were missed around here.” 

“I missed being here too.” Your words sounded like a whisper as he was getting closer. 

“We need to talk.” Jack held your arm, softly caressing your skin. 

“Abbot’s pancakes?” 

“You’re still bossy, wow.” He would do whatever you asked. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.” 

“Asshole.” You dismissed him, going the other way shaking your head. 

The next hours felt like you’ve never gone away for three years. The crew was the same you remembered but better and your tiredness didn’t turn out to be an issue. At 07 am you were pretty awake, the adrenaline was making you excited and you couldn’t stop moving around the room. 

You spent at least twenty minutes explaining about your patients to the day crew before really leaving the ER. It was a great day for you, the familiar taste of doing what you love with people you love made your heart ache with happiness. You were glad to be there again. 

Jack was waiting for you at the parking lot, hands in his pockets and eyes on you. You approached him slowly, stopping a few steps away. He watched your face with a discreet smirk, shaking his head. 

He followed you to your car, making sure you were safe enough to drive to his house - the same one you shared for almost two years. The unease on your chest was making you almost throw up in your car. You parked in the driveway, watching the house from the outside for a while. He was still watching you, he couldn’t stop himself from that. 

The small garden you cultivated was still intact, the pink flowers you loved and a few other plants that weren’t there before. He took care of the garden religiously for you. That was his way of hoping you come back to him. You walked towards the entrance slowly, capturing the details you missed while away. Jack finally put the swing on the front porch, like you planned on doing to make the house seem more cozy. 

“I thought it would be nice to sit here sometimes to watch the neighborhood.” He mentioned and opened the door for you. 

The inside was the same you remembered. The picture frames, the decoration. He changed some furniture but the rest looked the same. He still kept the picture of you two above the fireplace with the same flowers you used to put there. In your heed, when he did those things brought him some hope to believe you were coming back to him.

“You still buy the flowers?” You asked, turning your face to look at him. 

“Every wednesday at the farmers market.” He nodded, walking to the kitchen. 

Everything looked the same, like you never left. Even the cinnamon smell you absolutely loved lingered in the air. 

The kitchen was absolutely your favorite place in the house. You got to spend hours sitting at the table doing your shit or just baking whatever came to your head, sipping tea and being loved. Jack had the perfect vision from the living room when you were in the kitchen. He never told you but he had a lot of pictures of you sitting there existing like you’re the only God he believed. 

He served you some coffee and went back to the other side of the counter, putting the ingredients to do the pancakes you asked. The comfortable silence was pleasant, reminding you of the morning you shared in the same way: him doing the breakfast and you enjoying the view. 

“How was London? Last time I heard you were the chief of the trauma department there.” Jack was trying his best to avoid the topic he needed to talk about. 

“It was good. Cold, rainy and absolutely no pancakes.” You joked, crossing your arms over the table. “I had a good time, did things I only dreamed of, taught a lot of people and got to travel a bit.” 

“You traveled? Where did you go?” He seemed interested. 

“I went to visit Greece, did a tour around Italy with a couple of friends, my nephews came to visit me during winter and we went skiing in Switzerland.” You sipped more coffee, smiling at the memories. “I went to a safari, Jack!” Your words slipped in a funny way and he recognized how happy you were. “You would’ve loved that.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Suddenly he stopped in his tracks to finally watch you. 

You appeared relaxed, leaning against the chair, hair messed in a bun, jacket already off and barefoot. Looking like an absolute dream. Like the love of his life. 

“I missed you, you know? A lot.” You admitted, looking away from him. “I almost called you so many times and never had the courage to do it.” 

“I would’ve picked on the first ring.” He chuckled, mixing the ingredients trying to not stare for too long. “I wrote you some letters and a journal.” 

“You did?” Jack nodded, making you smile larger. “I may have taken some pictures of things and places that reminded me of you and kept them on an album to give to you. I hope you enjoy the crazy selfies and the endless comments on the people.” He laughed, picturing the scenes. 

He took his time to finish the pancakes, putting them on the table and sitting across from you with his cup of coffee. The dynamics between you haven’t changed at all, he still knew what you needed before you asked and you still read his face with ease. 

“I thought I had lost you forever.” Jack declared, making you stop. “The day I let you go was the worst day of my life, I felt so powerless and selfish. I couldn’t be the reason you give up your dreams because they were in you before I was present in your life and being the motive of your unhappiness was going to kill me.” You felt your stomach drop. “The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless. The night shift sucked without you there, our bed was cold, I barely slept thinking about you.”

“The idea of you finding somebody else and deciding to marry and have children.” He didn’t continue and you held his hand. 

“Jack, I am yours and yours only.” You squeezed his hand. “I spent a few weeks crying before bed, wanting to run back to you. The day I went on that plane I left a piece of my heart with you. The life we were building, the plans, the marriage, the children.” You mumbled with tears, chuckling. “Never crossed my mind doing those things with anybody else. It’s always been you and it’s always gonna be. Besides, European guys are not that attractive.” His jaw tensed and you burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you.” 

“I hate this.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, honey.” You winked, giggling under your breath. 

“Does this mean we can start over?” He asked, holding your gaze. 

“Always, Jack.” You smiled. 

That’s how after breakfast you ended up moving back to your place. The countless boxes with your stuff, bags filled with clothes and your favorite book collection around his living room. You were tired but nothing like the feeling of being home with him. Jack sent you to sleep a while later, finding you curled in his side of the bed, holding his pillow to smell his scent. 

He enjoyed the quietness of the morning to go through the album you made him. Pink cover with some shells and his name in gold letters. On the first page he found a small note you wrote. 

“To Jack.  I hope you know I thought about you a lot and these memories are an extension of my endless love for you.  Love, your girl.”

He couldn't contain a smile with the note, sighing as he passed to the next pages. The first real picture was you outside the hospital in London, bright smile, fearless, beautiful as ever. The note under the picture made him giggle, flushed.  

“You wished me good day before I took this. It was in fact a good day ‘cause I imagined you with me all the time.”

He kept passing the pages, amused by the great photos and the small remarks that sounded too much like you. His favorite was one of you sitting at the safari cart, wearing a pink cap, caressing a giraffe with one hand and with the other showing the necklace he gifted you a few years ago, the largest smile he’d ever seen, eyes shining and cheeks red from laughing. A look he recognized damn well. What made the picture even better was the small text. 

“I was in the safari in this. When theguide was tooking the picture the fucking lion roared next to the cart, almost peed my pants. Definitely not like Lion King, Disney lied to us. The cap was a gift from a child at the village I visited, he said it was to protect me and I truly believed in his words. The necklace is to represent you with me there and the giraffe, well, I’m in love. You would’ve loved this trip. I want to come back with you. Honeymoon maybe?”  Love, your (not so) wild girl.” 

He saw fragments of yourself, a version he was glad you enjoyed while doing the things you loved and still think about him so highly. He didn’t deserve you. Jack would never admit that you’re the light of his life, the shining star that guides him home every time he feels lost. 

You were exactly where you’re supposed to be. 

In his life, in his home, his bed, laying in his sheets with your favorite pink pajamas, being absolutely his. 

[astrolook]

Sun In Synastry : The Light They Bring Or Burn You With

Note: First of all, these are my personal observations based on client readings and what I have observed in real life relationships whether flings, short-term romances, long-term commitments, or marriages. We will be looking into both good and the shadow side of it. No single synastry aspect determines if a relationship is “meant to be” or if someone is your soulmate. True soulmates won’t bring you constant pain, abuse, emotional neglect, or detachment. They won’t harm you, manipulate you, or make you question your worth.

Now, with that said… let’s dive into today’s post! ✨

Sun in 1st house:

The Sun person is instantly drawn to the house person's presence, style, and energy, like a moth to a flame. You hype each other up like having a personal cheerleader. You don't feel the need to impress the Sun person as just being yourself is enough. This overlay creates an undeniable sense of "We just fit".

Now, the bad is that if one person has a fragile ego or jealousy, competition can creep in. The Sun person here would make the house person feel like a supporting character in their own life. Sometimes, this placement manifests as them being too comfortable with each other early on can lead to treating each other more like siblings or just a "buddy" rather than lovers.

Sun in 2nd house:

The Sun person sees the house person as valuable in some way. This creates a strong sense of mutual support and building together. Can work well in practical marriages or partnerships and also a stable goal-oriented relationships.

This placement can be seen with business partners or business romances. The house person might feel used if it isn't mutual. Can lack passion and deep emotional bond.

Sun in 3rd house:

The conservations between you both never dry. Endless chatter about anything and everything. The sun person thinks the house person is witty and logical. The house person would feel mentally alive and heard around the Sun person. Both parties feel comfortable and relationship feels natural here. Can build a lasting mental connection.

The Sun person may find the house person predictable. It feels right to the Sun person but not exciting. In some cases, the couples lacks sexual chemistry and need other aspects for passion.

Sun in 4th house:

Feels like instant family and deep emotional intimacy. The house person feels safe and comfortable around the Sun person. The Sun person might help the house person to heal their childhood wounds. Both of them could develop a strong desire to build a home or live together.

The house person can become too emotionally dependent. The house person might project their family issues onto the Sun person. Sun person might feel drained by house person’s emotional needs. I've seen in marriages where if things go south, it even resulted in a divorce. More comfort than passion.

Sun in 5th house:

This overlay gives instant chemistry that's fun, flirty and full of romantic energy. Sun person lights up the house person’s creative and playful side. There is mutual admiration and both of you make each other special. If kids are involves, there is a strong loving bond around them.

In some cases, it can feel more like a fling or a one-night stand than a real relationship. House person may see the Sun person as childish or too playful. Can burn hot and then fizzle out fast. If one person wants long-term and the other just wants fun, it gets really messy. I've seen this overlay on single parent households where the Sun person is absent from the kids life.

Sun in 6th house:

The Sun person helps the house person stay on top of their game in terms of health, work, and routine. Both of them know you can count on each other. This synastry overlay points to a productive lifestyle. It could be a great working partnership or supportive relationship. In marriages/LTR, I've seen this overlay manifest as the couple adopt pets which serves as a bonding factor for them.

In some cases, might feel like co-workers or roommates than lovers. House person might feel nagged about their habits by the Sun person. If unbalanced, resentment can build over time.

Sun in 7th house:

Sun person ticks all the boxes for what the house person wants in a partner. You feel like you belong together. It can be great for marriages and LTR or partnerships. Both of you just get each other.

On the flip side, The love-hate dynamic is very real. You admire them but also want to strangle them. They can be overly dependent on each other. Fights can be brutal but this relationship would feel like fated. If not balanced, one person compromises too much.

Sun in 8th house:

The Sun person feels the connection in the house person's soul. There is an intense magnetic pull and high sexual energy. The Sun person shines a light on the house person’s inner demons which can be healing or horrifying. Together they could explore the themes of psychology, occult or spiritual awakening as well.

The house person may hate the Sun person and hates to be seen with them. If the house person isn’t attracted? Major ick. They might cringe at the Sun person’s presence and behavior. Sometimes one of them has the upper hand and it can get toxic fast. In some cases, these relationships could feel like a walking PR disaster. You get me?

Sun in 9th house:

This overlay is where the Sun person idealizes the house person sometimes to the point of idolization. Late-night existential debates and long walks after midnight are common with these two. I've seen this overlay in travel vlogging couples. The Sun person expands the house person’s worldview, pushing them to think bigger. They could be inspiring and lifting each other up.

The house person may blindly follow the Sun person or reject them outright if they push too hard. In some cases, the Sun person talks too much and the house person has to listen and gets bored fast. Sometimes, the Sun person can come off as preachy like an annoying guru or act like a know-it-all and the house person tend to tune out completely. If one person is too rigid, this dynamic can feel overwhelming or dismissive.

Sun in 10th house:

This overlay is great for business partnerships where both of them has strong ambition and shred goals. The Sun person motivates the house person to reach their full potential.they see each other as high-value individuals. The Sun person boosts the house person’s public image & confidence. This can be a “power couple” dynamic if both are goal-oriented.

In some cases, this overlay seems transactional rather than real partnership. One of them could be focused more on status than love. The Sun person may dominate or try to control the house person’s career choices. The house person may feel pressured to impress or live up to expectations. If the Sun person loses respect for the house person, the relationship can fall apart fast.

Sun in 11th house:

Well, this is a relationship built on camaraderie and mutual respect. They accept each other’s quirks and support individuality. they may introduce each other to new friends or professional networks. This overlay can support long-term relationships as friendship is a key element in lasting love. They may enjoy humanitarian work or social activism together. The couple could even adopt kids.

Sometimes may feel more like "best friends" rather than lovers. Actually this could lead to a platonic or casual connection rather than a passionate one. The Sun person might take the lead in social settings, which could make the house person feel overshadowed.

Sun in 12th house:

This overlay could feel otherworldly. The Sun person illuminates the house person’s subconscious, dreams, and hidden fears. There’s often a sense of deep understanding without words like reading each other’s souls. If both individuals are emotionally evolved, this can be a highly healing and compassionate connection.

One or both may not see the relationship clearly at first. This overlay also can be seen in crushes or favorite artists where the house person could be completely unaware of the Sun person's existence or their feelings. It can create feelings of longing or a sense that the connection is just out of reach. If boundaries are weak, one person might sacrifice too much for the other, leading to resentment or exhaustion. Another overlay for single parent households.

Check out my post about Synastry Red Flags!

✨💫 DM me for a complete astrology reading / synastry compatibility reading and check out my pinned post for pricing! 💫✨

[plutosunshine]

PLUTO: your personal power

How to find your personal transformative power? Of course, we should look at the Pluto. Pluto is the place where the power of transformation starts. The house it resides in can show us how we can open up our strengths and let them transform our lives. I will look into the Pluto in the houses to answer that question. Of course, there are others placements that show power and strength but I would like to dive deep into the Pluto world. After all, the name of my blog is Plutosunshine!

Also, for those reading this post I offer to dig deep into your Pluto placement (and how it connects with the chart) to know what your personal power is — just 15 dollars. Don’t miss that opportunity!

Pluto in the 1st house

Having Pluto in the 1st house means you're someone who's meant to transform — again and again. You're not here to stay the same or follow the status quo. There's a deep intensity to you, something people can feel even if you don't say much. You've probably noticed that people are drawn to you, or maybe even a little intimidated, and you might not always understand why. That's Pluto — it gives off a powerful, magnetic energy.

To tap into your transformative power, start by really embracing change, even when it feels uncomfortable or chaotic. Life will probably push you through a lot of big shifts — but each one is meant to strip away what's false and bring you closer to your most authentic self. You grow stronger every time you let go of what no longer fits.

Another key part of your power is learning to accept your shadow side — those parts of you that feel too intense, emotional, or misunderstood. The more you own those parts instead of hiding them, the more powerful and grounded you become. Your depth is a gift, not a weakness.

You're also here to be unapologetically real. You don't need to shrink yourself to make others feel at ease. When you walk into a room fully being yourself, people feel your presence. That's part of your impact — you shift the energy just by being there.

Because you're wired to go deep, you're also someone who can heal. When you've worked through your own stuff, you naturally become a guide for others, whether you realize it or not. Your story, your intensity, your ability to rise again — all of that inspires people around you.

Pluto in the 2nd house

Pluto in the 2nd house is all about deep transformation around money, self-worth, values, and control — especially when it comes to your relationship with security and stability.

You’re not the type who just wants to "make money" in a surface-level way. You want to own your power, and for you, money, resources, and possessions can feel like a way to have control over your life. But here’s the thing — Pluto brings transformation through loss and rebirth. So throughout life, you might experience times where you lose something important (money, a job, stability), only to rebuild from the ground up and come back even stronger.

This placement teaches you that real power doesn’t come from what you have — it comes from who you are without it. Once you figure that out, you become unstoppable. You learn how to generate your own value, your own security, and build wealth in a way that feels deeply empowering and aligned with your soul.

There’s also this deep drive to get to the truth of things. You’re not into fluff. You want to know what’s real, what lasts, and what holds value — whether that’s in relationships, finances, or your own self-worth. You might have a talent for seeing through superficial success and knowing what’s truly valuable underneath.

And yeah, there can be some control issues here too — either clinging too tightly to money and material stuff out of fear, or swinging the other way and rejecting it completely. Finding balance is key. You’re meant to learn how to hold power without letting it control you.

At your best, you can become someone who transforms not only your own financial reality but also helps others do the same. You could be amazing at healing people’s money mindset, uncovering hidden talents, or building something valuable from scratch.

Pluto in the 3rd house

Pluto in the 3rd house? That’s deep, powerful stuff when it comes to your mind, communication, and how you process and share information.

You don’t do small talk. You crave real conversations — the kind that cut through the surface and get to the heart of things. When you speak, there’s often a weight to your words. You might not say much unless it matters, but when you do speak? People listen. There's something magnetic in how you express yourself.

Your mind works like an x-ray machine — you see through the noise, the lies, the distractions. You’re probably very observant, possibly quiet at times, but you're always picking up on what's not being said. It’s like you’re tuned into the hidden motives or the emotional undercurrents in conversations.

This placement also points to a strong potential for mental transformation throughout your life. Maybe early on, you dealt with environments that felt intense, controlling, or even toxic — especially related to siblings, school, or how you were allowed to express yourself. But over time, you learn to reclaim your voice and your mind. And once you do? You become incredibly persuasive, powerful, and insightful.

There can also be this compulsive curiosity — like you need to figure out how things work, especially people’s minds or deeper truths. You’d probably be amazing at research, psychology, writing, even occult studies. Anything that lets you dive deep and expose what’s hidden.

But be mindful of how you use your words — because with Pluto here, your voice can be healing or destructive. You have the power to influence people’s thinking, to help them see things in a totally new way. So learning how to wield that power with intention and care is a big part of your journey.

Also — don’t be afraid to let go of old mental patterns. Pluto in the 3rd can hold on to ideas, thoughts, or inner narratives for too long. Transformation happens when you’re willing to challenge what you think you know and open up to deeper truths.

Pluto in the 4th house

Pluto in the 4th house hits deep — this one goes straight to the core of who you are beneath the surface. It’s about your emotional foundation, your family roots, your home life, and your inner world. And with Pluto here, none of that is light or simple.

You probably grew up in an environment that felt intense, secretive, or even emotionally heavy. Maybe there were power dynamics in the family, unspoken rules, or a feeling like you had to protect yourself or stay on high alert. Whatever the story is, your childhood likely shaped you in a big way — and not always in ways you could fully understand at the time.

This placement gives you emotional depth and inner strength that most people can’t even begin to comprehend. You feel things intensely, but you might not always show it on the outside. You’ve learned to guard your inner world, to protect your vulnerabilities. You might keep your true self hidden unless you really trust someone — and even then, it can take time.

One of your biggest transformations in life comes through healing your relationship with your past — your family, your upbringing, and your emotional wounds. You’re meant to dive into all of that, not avoid it. The more you face what’s buried, the more you reclaim your personal power.

You’re also someone who needs a home that feels like a sanctuary. A place where you can go deep, retreat, and fully be yourself. You're not into surface-level comfort — you want a space with soul. And once you’ve done the inner work, you might even be the kind of person who helps others heal emotionally or create a safe space for transformation.

Sometimes Pluto in the 4th brings up themes around control or fear of losing stability — like trying to control your environment or relationships just to feel safe. But real strength comes when you learn to trust yourself emotionally and let go of needing everything to be under your control.

Bottom line: You’re here to transform from the inside out. To face the shadows of the past, rise above them, and build a foundation that’s emotionally solid and truly yours.

Pluto in the 5th house

Pluto in the 5th house brings intensity, passion, and deep transformation to all things related to self-expression, creativity, romance, and even how you experience joy.

This placement gives you a powerful desire to create — not just in the artistic sense, but to put your whole soul into something and watch it come to life. Whether it’s art, writing, music, performance, business, or even how you love someone — you don’t do anything halfway. When you express yourself, it’s raw, real, and magnetic. People can feel that you're not just creating for fun — you're creating from your core.

Romance and love affairs? Yeah... those don’t stay light either. You go all in. Love for you is intense, consuming, and often transformative. You might attract partners who challenge you, awaken you, or force you to confront parts of yourself you didn’t even know were there. There can be power struggles or deep emotional entanglements, but they’re never boring — these relationships are meant to change you.

There’s also this undercurrent of craving significance. Not in an ego way, but in a “I need what I do and who I love to matter” kind of way. Casual doesn’t cut it. You want to feel alive, seen, and fully self-expressed. At the same time, you might fear losing control — over your creativity, your heart, or your sense of self — so you might hold back or keep certain passions hidden until you feel safe.

At your highest expression, you become someone who channels their creativity and passion in a way that moves others. You don’t just entertain or express — you transform through your art, your love, and your joy.

Pluto in the 6th house

Pluto in the 6th house is deep transformation through the day-to-day grind — work, routines, health, service, and how you manage your responsibilities. Sounds practical, right? But Pluto doesn’t do shallow, even in the 6th. This placement means you’re here to evolve through the details of life.

You don’t just “go to work” or “take care of your health” — you feel a powerful, almost obsessive pull to do things well, to be in control of your environment, your workflow, and your body. You might be super focused on productivity, efficiency, or constantly improving yourself. And yeah, there can be perfectionist vibes here — because deep down, you may feel like control equals safety.

At some point in life, though, Pluto will challenge that mindset. There might be times when you burn out, get sick, or feel like your entire daily structure has to be torn down and rebuilt from scratch. That’s Pluto pushing you to transform how you handle stress, self-discipline, and your physical well-being.

You may also attract intense work situations — environments where power dynamics, manipulation, or control issues come into play. But that’s not random. These experiences help you learn how to stand in your own power without getting caught in toxic patterns.

Health-wise, this placement often calls for deep healing, not just physically, but emotionally and energetically. Your body can hold onto stress or emotional baggage, so it's important to pay attention to the root of any imbalances, not just the symptoms. You might even be drawn to alternative or transformative healing methods — like detoxing, shadow work, or energy healing — anything that helps cleanse from the inside out.

You have the potential to be a powerful healer, organizer, or problem-solver — especially once you’ve done the inner work. People may come to you because they sense you don’t just “fix” things — you transform them.

Pluto in the 7th house

Pluto in the 7th house? Oof — this is a powerful one when it comes to relationships. You're not here for light, casual connections. You're here to dive deep, to merge, and to transform through the people you’re closest to.

The 7th house rules partnerships — romantic, business, close one-on-one connections — and with Pluto sitting there, those relationships are often intense, magnetic, and sometimes... a little messy. Power struggles, obsession, deep attraction, and control issues can all show up at some point in your life. But it’s not to punish you — it’s to teach you how to find your own power within relationships, not through them.

You might attract partners who are intense, mysterious, or controlling — or you could be the one holding the reins. Either way, your relationships aren’t surface-level. They shake you, challenge you, and force you to grow. You may even go through major relationship breakdowns that feel like emotional death and rebirth experiences. But with every one, you come out stronger and more self-aware.

There’s also a theme here around learning to balance power — not giving yours away to please others, but also not trying to dominate or fix them. Pluto in the 7th is about finding equal, transformative partnerships — ones where both people grow, evolve, and bring out the deeper layers of each other’s truth.

You're someone who can’t fake connection. You crave realness, loyalty, soul-bonded intensity. When you're in a relationship that feels safe and aligned, you become incredibly loyal, protective, and powerful as a partner. You might even help others face their shadows or break their own patterns — just by being in their life.

If you haven’t already, you'll likely go through at least one life-altering relationship that shifts everything you thought you knew about love and partnership. And that relationship (even if it doesn’t last) will unlock a whole new level of personal power.

Pluto in the 8th house

Pluto in the 8th house is straight-up next-level deep — like, soul-level transformation kind of deep. This is Pluto in its home, so if you have this placement, you’re basically carrying intense, raw, psychic energy that most people can’t even begin to understand. You’re not here to live on the surface — you’re here to die and be reborn, over and over, emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically.

This placement gives you a natural connection to the hidden, the taboo, the unseen. You’re drawn to topics most people shy away from: death, rebirth, sex, trauma, power, energy, mysticism, the subconscious. You might have a fascination with psychology, occult stuff, healing, or even money that comes from others (like inheritances, shared resources, investments, etc.).

Emotionally, you feel things with intensity — but you don’t always show it. You’re probably very private, maybe even secretive, because you don’t trust easily. You know how messy people can be under the mask, and you’re not about to hand your soul over unless someone’s earned it. And when you do open up? It’s deep, consuming, life-changing love. No in-between.

With Pluto here, life will likely push you into situations where you’re forced to let go — of control, of attachments, of the idea that you can protect yourself from pain. It may come through relationships, loss, betrayal, or deep emotional experiences that shake you. But through those experiences, you unlock your true power — the kind that comes from facing the dark and surviving it.

There may also be a natural ability to help others through their own transformations. You could be a guide, a healer, a counselor — or just someone whose presence alone makes people confront their shadows and grow. You're not afraid of darkness — you work with it.

If you're not consciously working with this energy, it can come out sideways — jealousy, emotional control, fear of betrayal, or power struggles. But once you own it? You become a force. Like a phoenix that rises from the ashes every damn time.

Pluto in the 9th house

Pluto in the 9th house? Now that’s the placement of a truth-seeker, a belief-breaker, and someone who’s here to completely transform their worldview over the course of their life.

You’re not interested in surface-level knowledge or blindly following what you’ve been taught. You want to dig deep, uncover hidden truths, and challenge the systems — religion, philosophy, culture, education — anything that tells you “this is how it is.” Your mind is built to go beyond that. You want to know — not just believe — and that desire can lead you to explore some seriously deep or even taboo topics.

There’s often a powerful transformation that happens through travel, higher education, or spiritual awakening. It might start with questioning what you were raised to believe. Maybe you were taught one version of the truth growing up — and at some point, it just didn’t fit anymore. So you broke away, maybe even dramatically, and went on your own journey to find what’s real for you.

People with Pluto in the 9th are often drawn to the occult, metaphysics, esoteric studies, psychology, philosophy, or anything that challenges traditional thinking. You might have the soul of a philosopher, teacher, mystic, or rebel scholar — someone who doesn’t just accept ideas but dissects them, transforms them, and helps others do the same.

You also have this intensity when it comes to your personal truth. Once you believe in something, you believe it with everything in you. But part of your growth is learning that beliefs can evolve — that clinging too hard to one “truth” can become its own kind of prison.

You could be a powerful teacher or guide, especially when it comes to helping others see beyond their limits. Your words, your perspective, your insight? It can change people’s lives. But first, you’ve gotta go through your own journey of death and rebirth — mentally, spiritually, even culturally.

Pluto in the 10th house

Now that’s a powerhouse placement. You’re here to transform the world through your presence, your ambition, and the legacy you leave behind. There’s something magnetic about the way you move in the world — even if you’re not loud about it, people feel your intensity.

The 10th house is about career, reputation, public image, and authority — and Pluto brings transformation, control, and raw power to all of it. You’re not just here to “have a job.” You’re here to own your path, to rise to the top of whatever field you’re in, and to make an impact. Even if it takes time, you’re wired to build something lasting, and you won’t stop until you do.

That said, it’s rarely a straight shot to success. With Pluto here, you might go through some serious ups and downs with your career or public identity. There could be major shifts — like climbing the ladder, crashing hard, and rising from the ashes even stronger. You learn through these experiences how to let go of old versions of yourself and step into something more powerful each time.

You might also experience intense dynamics with authority figures — bosses, parents, institutions — where control and power play a huge role. Maybe you resist being controlled, or maybe you’ve had to wrestle with your own need to be the one in control. Either way, you're here to redefine what power looks like — for yourself and others.

People might project their expectations or fears onto you because you have a commanding energy. Whether you realize it or not, others see you as someone who’s meant for big things. That can be intimidating, but it’s also your edge. Once you stop trying to blend in and start owning that you're a natural leader or influencer, things shift.

You’re here to lead by transforming systems, not just following them. That could mean building a business, changing an industry, or becoming the kind of authority figure you wish you'd had. Legacy matters to you — not in a flashy way, but in a deep, lasting way. You want your work to mean something.

Pluto in the 11th house

Pluto in the 11th house is next-level transformation through your connections with the collective — friendships, communities, social movements, and your long-term vision for the future. This is the placement of someone who’s here to shake up the status quo and change the system from the inside out.

You’re not here to just “fit in.” You’re here to find your soul tribe — people who are deep, real, and ready to evolve with you. Superficial social scenes? Nah, that’s not your vibe. You crave connections that have meaning, purpose, and maybe even a little intensity. In fact, your friendships might go through some heavy shifts over time — people coming and going, betrayals, loyalty tests, or just straight-up energetic mismatches that force you to level up.

And the people you do keep around? They can be powerful allies. You’re someone who can attract influential or deeply transformative individuals into your life — and your presence can do the same for them. You help others grow just by being real and pushing them to look deeper at themselves and the world.

This placement also gives you a serious obsession (in a good way) with your vision for the future. You want to create change — whether it’s through activism, innovation, spiritual work, art, or just breaking old systems that don’t serve people anymore. There’s a revolutionary vibe to you, like you’re lowkey always scanning society for what needs to die so something better can be built in its place.

Sometimes you might feel like an outsider, especially if your ideas are too "much" for the people around you. But that's part of your journey — learning to stand strong in your truth and finding or building communities that get it.

There can also be control themes around groups or social dynamics. Maybe you want to lead or resist being led. Maybe you’re drawn to secret or exclusive groups. Or maybe you've felt used or overlooked in social circles. But the key is learning how to hold power with others, not over them.

Bottom line: you're here to redefine what community and collaboration look like — and your influence can ripple out way further than you think.

Pluto in the 12th house

Pluto in the 12th house is some of the most powerful, mysterious, and spiritually transformative energy you can have in a birth chart. This is deep, behind-the-scenes Pluto — the kind that works in the unconscious, the soul, the hidden realms most people avoid or don’t even realize exist. If you have this placement, you’re not just on a life journey… you’re on a soul mission.

With Pluto here, you’re naturally tuned in to the invisible — dreams, symbols, energy, vibes, emotions that have no words. You might pick up on other people’s moods without trying, or feel things that others can’t explain. It’s not always easy — because you're basically carrying the emotional weight of not just yourself, but often of others or even collective pain.

There’s often a strong pull toward mysticism, spirituality, psychology, or healing. You may have had early life experiences that were deeply emotional, confusing, or that forced you inward — maybe trauma, isolation, or feeling misunderstood. But this inner world you were pushed into? It’s where your power lives. You're here to transform through surrender, trust, and the kind of healing that doesn’t happen on the surface.

This placement can sometimes make you feel like there’s something hidden within you — like a power you’re not fully sure how to access. But the more you explore your subconscious, your dreams, or your spiritual path, the more that power starts to reveal itself.

There can be periods of emotional intensity, shadow work, or even a sense of self-sabotage that you have to confront. You might find that things you’ve repressed or avoided emotionally come up in powerful waves — but facing them head-on is where your transformation happens.

You may also have a natural gift for healing, especially through spiritual or energetic means. You could be a powerful guide for others — even if it's quiet, behind-the-scenes, or unspoken. People might come to you without knowing why, drawn to your energy, your calm depth, your ability to hold space for things most people can’t.

Pluto in the 12th is like a cosmic detox — you're here to release what isn't yours, to rise through the shadows, and to awaken others by doing your own inner work.

[merchen-aeravellae]

A Yandere Through Time

Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession

No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.

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Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.

Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved

Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.

Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.

Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.

Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.

Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.

Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.

Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.

Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.

Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.

Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.

Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.

Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.

Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.

Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.

Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.

Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.

Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?

Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.

Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.

Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.

Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.

Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.

Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.

Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.

Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.

Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.

Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."

[f1fantasys]

Another day, another shitshow, another fuck

Summary - post Monza angst and smut. FUCK YOU MCLAREN.

Warnings - filthy smut, fingering, oral, m and f receiving, blowjob, p in v sex, over stimulation, anal, squirting, swearing.

3.6K+

Should you be surprised that it was another shit race for Lando? Where his team, and teammate fucked him over again? No.

Did it hurt? Yes.

It hurt like hell to see Lando put in that position again. Were Mclaren so fucking blind that they couldn't see it was ONLY Lando who was in contention for the driver's championship?

Yes, the team need each other. Every single person is a valuable part to winning the Constructors Championship, but to see the way they were literally shoving Lando and his chances of the dc to the side - you were no okay with.

Before the summer break, Hungary was a shitshow. His team manipulated Lando and guilt-tripped him to give up the win. Saying ''the way to win a championship is not alone'' He literally gifted his teammate a win, and had to take the brunt of it, losing out every precious point more he would have scored to close the gap to Max.

Now today, all Lando spoke about was getting a 1-2 for the team, yet his teammate only talked about winning. Where were the team orders today? Where did the words from Hungary disappear to?

All you know is that Lando deserved better, instead of getting fucked time and time again when he is driving at his best and doing everything he can to be the team player and fight for his own title which he's dreamed about every sine he was a little boy.

You couldn't attend Monza as you'd just flown back to Monaco from a modeling job in Brazil. You'd landed just in time to watch the race, screaming at the tv and heart aching for what Lando had to go through because of his ''team''

When the race ended and you saw how defeated Lando looked, you'd sent him a message saying you were home and that you loved him, knowing a simple message like that would calm him down and tell him you're there for him.

A few hours later, as you were just chilling in the living room watching some tv, you heard the front door open. You shot up and winced when you saw Lando walk through the door, your heart clenching at the sight of him.

He looked tired, frustrated, angry, sad, helpless. The list goes on. He had a pair of joggers with an oversized quadrant hoodie on, cap hiding his precious curls as his eyes were red and swollen, face drained of his usual brightness.

''Lan, baby'' you whispered as you walked up to him, watched him drop his bags and take his cap off.

He looked at you, his face softening when he saw you, as you enveloped him in a tight hug, trying to pour all of your love for him into it.

You soothed his back and played with the hair at the back of his neck and Lando buried his head in the crook of your neck, breathing deep and staggered.

''I'm here, just breathe. Gonna all be okay Lan'' you said, trying to find the words to calm him down though it would take some time.

''I know, thank you'' he whispered, pulling back and kissing you gently as he cupped your face.

''Missed you'' he said, hugging you again.

''Missed you too my love. Wanna go shower and have something to eat? Just cuddle after?'' you asked, knowing thats' what he always wanted after a bad race.

''Yeah'' he said quietly before retreating to the bedroom while you ordered some food for the both of you.

You didn't press him at first, to start talking about today, or anything at all. He'd asked how your week was and that was it. Comfortable silence through dinner. Once you'd both eaten as much pizza as you could, you watched some more tv in silence, until your nerves gave up and you had to say something.

You pulled back from where you were cuddling Lando at his side and gently looked at him, hoping your eyes would tell him to please open up to you.

''Talk to me Lan'' you said.

He licked his lips. ''Not much to say really. Just fuck up after fuck up''

You sighed. You didn't want to show him pity, because that was the last thing he needed. But you told him how ''he needed to stop blaming himself and see that it was his team and teammate, as usual,'' and that ''you knew he did everything he could to give it his all, how he is driving at his best and it will all pay off soon, he just needs to give it time''

''Thank you baby, really, i don't know what I'd do without you. I love you so much'' he said once you'd finished talking about the shitshow.

You leaned forward, pecking his nose. ''I love you too Lan, always''

You cuddled up again and watched something random again, just content to be with each other.

Lando had his arms wrapped around you, drawing lazy circles on your legs until his hands kept itching closer and closer to your core which was getting wetter and wetter with each movement. You didn't move or say anything though. You wanted him to carry on as he pleased, and use you as a distraction from everything.

He could probably feel your breathing increase though, and finally a few minutes later he let his hand slip into your sleep shorts, pushing your panties to the side and letting his fingers run through your folds.

Your breath hitched when he did that, and you opened your legs wider to give him better access, the both of you still not saying anything but letting your actions speak for themselves.

Your back was to Lando's chest, so he rested his chin on your shoulder as his fingers found your clit and started rubbing rough circles on it, pinching it now and then.

You closed your eyes, suppressing your moans, which Lando quickly told you not to hold in. ''Let them out baby, let me hear you'' he whispered din your ear.

So you did. When you felt his calloused index finger slide through your hole you let out a guttural moan, grinding yourself down on him as he added a second finger, thrusting them in and out hard and fast.

''Oh Lan, yes'' you whispered between breaths as he started nibbling on your sweet spot on your neck.

You were close, your body tensing at the feeling of a warmth starting to build up in your tummy and you realized you needed something to hold onto, so naturally, your hand found Lando's bulge, which by now had grown hard. You palmed him through his shorts, feeling his body jolt up with the contact.

''Fuck, y/n'' he said through gritted teeth.

''Lan I'm close, please'' you begged.

So he sped up his movements, fucking his fingers into you and curling them at just right time, sending you into an orgasmic bliss as your cum gushed all over Lando's fingers, messing your panties and shorts in the process.

''Fuck, god, Lando'' you breathed out, trying to steady it as much as you could to catch your breath again. You let your body fall back onto Lando's, only realizing now just how tense you'd gotten with his actions.

He slid his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips and licking them clean. ''My favorite'' he whispered.

Your cunt was still desperate for more, achingly clenching around nothing, and at the same time you could feel Lando's dick twitching him his shorts, also begging for attention.

Just as you were about to sink down onto your knees as give him some relief, Lando's words shook you to your core.

''Can I fuck you?'' he asked

Your brain was fizzled. Why was he asking? He knew he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with you, but also did he feel so reserved or upset that he felt the need to ask?

''Yes'' you said, eagerly, not caring how desperate you sounded, getting up form your position and watching how his eyes darkened when he saw you take off all your clothes and standing bare in front of him.

You stood there as Lando shamelessly let his eyes roam your body, licking his lips when they stopped at your dripping pussy.

He pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your face for a feverish kiss, not wasting time to let his tongue slip into your mouth as his hands wandered all over your body.

You kissed him back with as much urgency, as you let yourself grind on his thigh.

Lando let out a series of grunts as he looked down and saw the wet patch on his shorts that you left.

''Still wearing too many clothes baby'' you said, already working on taking his tshirt off as he raised his hips off the couch to rid his shorts.

Once he was finally as naked as you, you finally got onto your knees on the carpet, sitting between his legs and you took his thick girth and gave him a few pumps.

Lando's back arched off the couch as he settled his arms behind his head, resting it back and openly letting pornographic moans leave his mouth.

The noises he made as you took his tip into your mouth to suck on had you clenching your thighs together, you were sure you could cum by just listening.

You fondled with his balls as you pushed his cock further into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat, as you started a steady rhythm so fucking him in and out.

You looked up to see he has his eyes closed, mouth agape and he continued to let himself be heard, hips thrusting up every now and then at how sensitive he was everything his slit touched your throat.

''Fuckin hell, so good'' he mumbled, more to himself as you sped up your pace, eager to taste him.

Lando eventually bought his hands down to hold onto your face, thrusting his hips up to fuck himself into your mouth.

By now you were gagging around him, spit messing your chin and dripping down onto your thighs. Looking at that alone and hearing the sloppy sounded you were making was enough to push Lando over the edge.

He groaned as his dick twitched uncontrollably, his cum blasting out of him down your throat as his hold on your hair tightened.

You moaned at the salty taste of Lando as he praised your name like a mantra, praised you at how well you took him.

He let his body relax back, chest heaving as he was slowly coming down from his high when he finally opened his eyes and saw you still on your knees, wiping your chin with the back of your hand as your own breathing at reached new heights.

''Come here'' he said softly, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face, gently this time, peppering your face in wet kisses as he finally licked your chin clean of the mixture of spit and cum.

He tucked your hair behind your ears as he bit down on your lower lip, feeling your grind yourself on him once again.

''Need to feel you love. Gonna let me fuck you now yeah?'' he said.

You loved when he spoke to you like that, used his words like that.

You quickly nodded your head, ''Please Lando'' you begged.

''Ride me first then I'll take you from behind?'' he asked again.

You didn't respond verbally though. You just braced your hands on his shoulders as Lando pumped himself a few times, running his cock through your folds before settling at your hole, letting you sink down on him fully in a single thrust.

Your foreheads were resting against each other as the feeling of pain and pleasure overtook your body, letting out rhythmic moans as your walls clenched around Lando.

''Fuck'' he breathlessly cooed as you bit down on your lower lip.

''Hmm'' was all you managed back.

Once your body was used to the intrusion, (you always had to have some time because Lando was bigger than average and it was stung bad at first) you lifted yourself up before slammed back down again, and you continued that rhythm as a string of obscene moans left both yours and Lando's mouths.

His hand were planted tightly on your hips, guiding your movements of riding his thick pole up and down as you couldn't help but lean down and take one his nipples into your mouth, moaned at how it felt to have it in you mouth as you bit and sucked on it. That had Lando a whining mess.

''My brat, so filthy. So fucking dirty'' he mumbled through gritted teeth, spit flying through his mouth as he said it.

Your pace was raw, riding him like your life depended on it, when Lando bought his hand down and let his fingers toy with your clit, quickly edging you on.

''Fuck Lando I'm gonna cum'' you said, panting in his face as his eyes were stuck on yours, growing darker with every thrust.

''Do it'' he said, sternly. The raspiness and hoarseness of his voice only turning you on as you leaned down and locked lips with his in a harsh kiss, both your tongues everywhere, so unable to even have a proper kiss - just licks and nips of each others mouth.

The moment he pinched your slit through his fingers, you were a shuddering mess in his arms. Your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, gushing your fluids onto Lando's dick, now running down your thighs and his as he took control of fucking himself into you.

''How do you manage to cum so violently baby? Are you okay?'' he asked, concerned etched on his face as he was always so shocked at how much cum you mustered up. Though not concerned enough to stop fucking you!

You breathed heavy, trying to talk and failing to do so he slowed his movements slightly.

''Fuck it you Lan, you don't know what you do to me'' you said, smirking at thinking how this will boost his ego.

''Yeah?'' he asked, picking up his pace again.

''Uh huh. All you'' you said, trying to keep up with him though your body was like jelly.

He sensed your weakness and gently pulled you up, man-handling your body to lay down on the couch as he placed himself between your legs, spreading them wide open before pushing his angry dick back into you, relentlessly chasing his own high now.

You shut your eyes and bit your lip when Lando leaned down and roughly sucked on your nipple, showing it no pity. Your hands found his hair, pulling at and tugging it roughly.

Lando continued his onslaught as his words started again. He was whispering how to were such a fucking good girl for letting him use you as a slut, taking his thick dick so nice, how one day he was gonna fuck a baby into you, how you'd be only his whore forever, and no one would ever get to know how good you are, how you ruined sex for him.

His words were quick to have you shaking underneath him again, an orgasmic bliss taking over your body as you were sure you would black out with the pace he was still going at.

''Uh fuck Lando, fuck me, oh god, please'' you moaned and begged, not sure what for.

He laughed, for the first time since the race ended. ''I am fucking you baby, and you're doing so good for me. I fucking love you so much'' he mumbled, putting pressure on your clit, sending you into yet another orgasm, fluids gushing out of your body uncontrollably.

Lando slowed his movements. ''Still want you form the back, get up'' he ordered. And as much as your body felt like it couldn't move, he made you move and positioned you nicely for himself, you were on your elbows, with your ass in the air and Lando sat on his heels and pumped himself a few times, letting his spit drop down onto this cock to lube himself before he finally pushed into your ass hole.

''Fucking love anal with you baby. So fucking hot'' he said through gritted teeth.

He pushed in all the way and by now words had long left your brain. All you could do was hold onto the pillow as tight as you could and shut your eyes, let them roll to the back of your head as Lando used you how he pleased.

You couldn't even muster up any energy to let any moans leave your mouth, so all you could do was pant and let out shaky breaths, with a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

Lando had pulled your body up, so you were leaning back against him and his hands snaked around to your front and squeezed and pulled at your boobs as he still slammed in and out of you.

''Lan, love you but I-I''

''Yes you can'' you interrupted, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone.

Within seconds he'd sent you over the edge again, body quivering in his arms as he slowed his movements again, riding you through your orgasm.

''Lan''

''I know baby. One more, yeah? For me?''

How could you not when he was talking to you like that?

You nodded, and he handled your body once again and lay down on the couch, resuming his place from earlier and slowly, painfully almost, gliding his cock through your cunt again.

You held your breath, unsure how your body was gonna take it because as good as it felt, you were sore everywhere.

''You're so good. Such a good brat. One more baby, then we're done'' he said, leaning down to kiss you softly, though the bottom part of his body (and yours) was everything but soft. He ruthlessly slammed in and out of your core as you were starting to see stars now.

''Hm Lando wha-I-I'' you couldn't even form words now. Your body was on overdrive and you swear you were starting to feel things you'd never felt. You couldn't even describe what you were feeling when he asked you.

But just as his dick hit over G-spot over and over and over again, your body gave way and all of a sudden you were squirting, left right and center, unable to control it.

When Lando released what was happening, he couldn't stop his own dick from twitching unexplainably harshly, shooting ropes and ropes of milky white cum deep within you.

''FUCK, Y/N WHAT!?'' he exclaimed, unable to stop himself from shouting it out as he couldn't believe it was actually happening.

You though - you were in a state of bliss. Body tingling and fluttering as you just experienced squirting for the first time, and boy did it feel fucking amazing.

As Lando finally came down from your involuntary actions, he was quick to pull out of you and lean down, slurping and swallowing at every bit of juice and liquid your body just gave out.

His tongue on your pussy sent waves of pleasure and when he slid it through your hole, without really knowing what was happening, you ended up cumming AGAIN.

''Fuck LANDO!'' you shouted, not caring if your neighbors could hear you.

He blew some cool air over your cunt as he pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile.

''Sorry couldn't help myself'' he said, breathless as you were.

He let his weigh collapse onto your body and you arms wrapped around him tightly, trying to calm the both of you down though you were starting to shiver at the cold air hitting you sweaty skin.

Lando's curls were stuck on his forehead as your brushed them up and ran you hand through his hair.

''I've always said it and i will continue to. You are out of this world y/n. Fucking incredible in every fucking way. How the hell are you so good at making me feel this good? And I'm sorry - but you squirting is the single most hottest fucking thing you've ever done.'' he said, kissing you straight away and not giving you time to respond.

When he pulled back, you couldn't help but chuckle.

''Lan, you don't get it. Its the effect you have on me. You seriously have no idea what you do to my insides when you talk act, do anything for that matter. You'd just the most amazing person i know inside and out and just the thought of you does crazy things to me. Don't get even me started on what you make me feel when we fuck. It's unlike anything I've ever felt and i wouldn't have it any other way.''

''I don't know what i did to deserve you, but i love you so so much'' he whispered.

''I love you too baby. But promise me one thing. You wont let that asshole of a team bring you done. You need to know how fucking talented and incredible you are and will always be. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. If they do, they'll have to come through me and i will crush them. But seriously, you are the best out there and i promise the good times will come, you will always be MY world champion. Forget what everyone else says. I love you so much.

''Thank you'' he whispered softly again.

The rest of the night was spent in bed with lazy kisses and dare you say more when you say Lando made you squirt again the next morning ;)

[reidmarieprentiss]

Not Her

Summary: Reader can't figure out why Spencer doesn't like her, Spencer doesn't know how to tell her it's not her fault.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: camping, being stuck, wilderness, swimming in underwear, teasing, talks of bullying, insecurities, mild aggression from a male (not spencer), small injury

Word count: 16.6k

a/n: i want to go camping with spencer sooo bad he would be so nerdy and useful

main masterlist

From the moment you joined the BAU, it was obvious that you were entering a tightly knit group. The closeness between the team members was clear, and while you didn’t expect to be everyone’s best friend right off the bat, you were determined to fit in. You took time to get to know everyone, learning their quirks, their likes, and dislikes, hoping to carve out your place within the team.

With Derek, you found an easy-going rapport. His playful nature and quick wit made it easy to banter back and forth. JJ was kind and welcoming, often making a point to include you in conversations or to check in on how you were adjusting. Penelope was a whirlwind of energy, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself swept up in her vibrant world of tech and color. Rossi felt like a wise uncle who loved everyone on the team as his own. Alex was someone who acted as an older sister to you and whom you looked up to very much, and Hotch, though stern, had a way of making you feel like you were a valuable part of the team.

But Spencer Reid… he was different.

From the start, there was a disconnect. It wasn’t as if he was openly hostile or dismissive—he was far too professional for that. But there was something in the way he avoided your gaze during meetings, or how he seemed to drift to the opposite side of the room whenever you entered. You had caught him, more than once, excusing himself from a conversation as you approached, as if the mere prospect of talking to you was something he couldn’t bear.

At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that he was just shy or perhaps overwhelmed by the demands of the job. After all, you knew that Spencer wasn’t the most socially adept person in the world. But as time went on, the distance between you and him became more apparent, and it started to gnaw at you.

You didn’t need everyone to like you. You had learned long ago that such a goal was impossible, especially in a high-stakes environment like the BAU. But the way Spencer acted around you—like he could barely stand to be in the same room—was something you couldn’t ignore. You were both professionals, and you could work together when necessary, but it was clear that there was a barrier between you, one that wasn’t present with the rest of the team.

You found yourself replaying your interactions with him over and over in your mind, trying to pinpoint where things had gone wrong. Was it something you had said? Something you had done? Had you offended him without realizing it? Every smile you offered that went unreturned, every attempt at conversation that fizzled out into uncomfortable silence, only deepened the mystery.

—

The whole team could see the ridge between you and Spencer, but no one was any more privy to its cause than you were. Naturally, they had asked, each of them trying to get to the bottom of the tension, but Spencer always brushed it off, insisting he had nothing against you. And technically, he wasn’t lying—it wasn’t you he had a problem with.

The team had noticed the rift between you and Spencer early on. It was impossible to ignore, especially in a group as close-knit as the BAU. And so, they took it upon themselves to try and bridge the gap, often resorting to what they jokingly referred to as “parent trapping” the two of you.

Whenever the team needed to double up on rooms during cases, you and Spencer were always the ones paired together. If there were assignments to be handled in pairs, it was somehow always the two of you that got teamed up. On the jet or at the round table, there would only be one spot left for each of you, forcing you to sit side by side. And then there were the bar nights—group outings where, mysteriously, everyone else would bail out at the last minute, leaving just you and Spencer nursing your drinks awkwardly.

But despite their best efforts, nothing seemed to work. Spencer wasn’t warming up to you, no matter how many times you ended up in forced proximity. The wall between you remained as solid as ever, and eventually, you stopped trying to break through it. You resigned yourself to the fact that whatever issue he had with you, it wasn’t something you could change. 

However, Rossi—always the wise, seasoned veteran—was not ready to give up just yet. He had one last trick up his sleeve, one final attempt to get you and Spencer to break through the barrier between you. 

A team bonding camping excursion.

It was the perfect setup. Out in the wilderness, away from the usual comforts and distractions of your everyday lives, you would all be forced to rely on each other. And maybe, just maybe, the isolation would do what all the previous attempts had failed to achieve. 

But here’s the final kicker—when the day of the camping trip arrived, everyone else conveniently piled into cars together, leaving you and Spencer to drive alone in your car. You noticed the sly looks exchanged between your teammates as they handed out the keys, but before you could protest, Spencer was already sliding into the passenger seat of your vehicle.

Just as you were about to follow the convoy of cars out of the parking lot, Rossi strolled over to your window, an easygoing smile on his face. He handed you a printed sheet of directions, different from the ones the others had received. 

"Just in case you get separated," he said with a wink, his tone far too innocent. 

You couldn't shake the feeling that Rossi had planned this down to the last detail. Of course, you and Spencer wouldn’t just be separated from the group—you’d be on an entirely different route, one that would give you no choice but to spend even more time together, alone and without the safety net of your other teammates.

As you pulled out of the lot, Spencer sat quietly beside you, his eyes trained on the passing scenery. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating, but there was nothing you could do now. You were in this together, whether either of you liked it or not. 

And as the miles stretched out ahead of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what Rossi had in mind, and if this final trick up his sleeve would finally be the one to force Spencer to open up—or if it would just deepen the divide between you.

—

The campsite was a solid three hours away, and while the drive was scenic enough, it didn't change the fact that you had a small bladder and a penchant for drinking a lot of water and coffee. It was inevitable that you'd need to make a pit stop before reaching your destination. 

As you glanced at the time on the dashboard and then at the half-empty travel mug in the cupholder, you sighed internally. You’d need to pull over soon. The thought of having to break the silence yet again didn’t exactly thrill you, but the discomfort was starting to outweigh your hesitation.

“Reid,” you said, breaking the quiet that had settled over the car. “I’m going to stop and use the restroom. Want me to grab you anything?”

Spencer, who had been quietly absorbed in the book he was reading, glanced up briefly, his expression neutral. “No, thank you,” he replied politely before returning his attention to the pages in front of him.

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and pulled off at the next rest stop. As you parked and unbuckled your seatbelt, you tried not to dwell on the strained exchange. It wasn’t much different from the countless other interactions you’d had with Spencer—brief, polite, and devoid of any real connection. 

—

You’d been driving for what felt like ages, the occasional road sign the only indication that you were getting closer to your destination. You were determined to reach the campsite without any further detours, but the unfamiliar roads and winding paths made it easy to second-guess yourself.

“Reid,” you said, breaking the silence again that had settled back over the car like a heavy blanket. “I think we’re getting close. Can you give me directions, please?”

Spencer looked up from his book, blinking a few times as he refocused on the world outside. “Yeah,” he replied simply, his voice still carrying that same detached tone.

He reached for the directions Rossi had given you earlier, unfolding the paper and scanning the instructions. His finger traced the lines of text as he read through the details, his brow furrowing slightly as he calculated the next turn.

“Take the next left,” he instructed, his eyes flicking up to the road ahead. “And then, after about two miles, there should be a right turn onto a dirt road. That should lead us directly to the campsite.”

“Got it,” you said, following his directions carefully, hoping that this final stretch would be as straightforward as he made it sound.

As you turned onto the narrow, winding road Spencer had pointed out, the trees began to close in around you, their dense foliage casting dappled shadows on the path. The silence returned, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird. You glanced over at Spencer, who was once again absorbed in his book, his focus seemingly unshakeable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Did he realize how obvious the team’s attempts at pushing you two together were? Or was he simply indifferent to it all, content to keep you at arm’s length? 

—

“Okay…” you mumbled under your breath as you pulled into what looked like a campsite. The trees parted just enough to reveal a small clearing, but the emptiness of it made you hesitate. The gravel crunched under the tires as you rolled to a stop, and you squinted through the windshield, scanning the area. “This should be the place… Do you see anyone else?”

Spencer lifted his gaze from his book, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the deserted clearing. “Uh, no. No, I do not.”

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. You leaned forward, double-checking the area, but it was clear—you and Spencer were the only ones there. “Did I take a wrong turn?”

“Not according to the directions,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but not particularly reassuring.

You let out a slow breath, trying to push down the rising anxiety. “Maybe we beat them here?”

“That’s unlikely,” Spencer said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Due to the number of times you pulled over for the restroom.”

You couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up your neck at his blunt observation. “Right,” you said, your voice tight as you tried to figure out what to do next. “So… what do we do now? Should we wait for them to show up?”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the directions. “It’s possible they took a different route. But considering how empty this place is, I’d say we’re either very early, or we’re not at the right site.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. “Great. Just great. I’ll give Rossi a call,” you muttered, more to yourself than to Spencer, as you reached for your phone. The screen lit up, but when you glanced at the signal bar, your stomach dropped—no signal. “Uh, do you happen to have a signal on your cellphone?”

Spencer pulled his phone from his pocket and checked, his brow furrowing as he studied the screen. After a moment, he sighed, the sound tinged with resignation. “Nope.”

“Fantastic,” you said, the sarcasm barely masking your frustration. “Should we wait for a bit and see if anyone else shows up?”

Spencer considered the suggestion, his gaze drifting back to the empty clearing. “That seems like the best choice right now,” he agreed, his voice steady but lacking any real optimism.

With nothing else to do, you both settled into the uncomfortable silence, the quiet only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last as you both kept your eyes on the road, hoping to see the rest of the team’s cars pull in. But the road remained empty, and the only company you had was the uneasy tension that had settled between you.

If this was Rossi’s idea of getting you and Spencer to bond, it was off to a rocky start.

—

The campsite in front of you looked serene and peaceful, bathed in the soft light filtering through the towering trees. The fire pit in the center was surrounded by a few scattered logs, perfect for sitting around and enjoying the warmth of a campfire. Despite its picturesque setting, the site was eerily empty, with no sign of the team anywhere.

Eventually, you heard the sound of Spencer unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. The soft click of the door opening made you glance over. “What are you doing?” you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

“Getting out,” Spencer replied simply as he stepped onto the gravel. “I want to stretch my legs.”

You nodded, realizing that was a good idea. “Yeah, good idea,” you agreed, your tone a bit lighter now. The tension of being cooped up in the car with nothing but silence between you two was beginning to wear on you. 

You both got out of the car, the fresh air a welcome change after the long drive. As you stood there, taking in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed. The forest around you was alive with the sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and the faint crackle of the fire pit from when it was last used.

Spencer moved toward the center of the campsite, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked around. “It’s a nice spot,” he commented, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation.

You walked a little closer to him, scanning the area for any signs of the team. “Yeah,” you agreed, though the emptiness still gnawed at you. “But it’s weird that no one else is here yet.”

Spencer nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “Maybe they’re just running late. Or they took a different route like I said before.”

You glanced back at the car, then around the site again. It was hard to shake the feeling that something was off, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. “Well, at least it’s peaceful,” you said, trying to focus on the positive.

Spencer gave a small nod, seemingly content to stand there in the stillness of the forest. Despite the lingering uncertainty, there was something calming about the solitude, and for a moment, the silence between you felt less strained and more comfortable.

—

As the sun dipped lower behind the trees, casting long shadows across the campsite, you felt a growing sense of unease. The emptiness of the site was now coupled with the approaching darkness, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. You finally voiced your concern, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. “Spencer, they’re obviously not coming. Should we drive around? Look for a fire? Or just head home?”

Spencer, who had been pacing slightly near the car, stopped and looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t—I don’t know what we should do,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly, a rare display of uncertainty from him.

You bit your lip, weighing the options. None of them seemed particularly appealing, especially as the light continued to fade. “Okay… do you just want to set up here for the night and figure it out in the morning?”

“Umm… yeah,” he agreed after a moment, though his tone was far from confident. “Do you mind if I sleep in the car?”

That caught you off guard. “Sure…” you replied slowly, trying to mask your surprise. Spencer had always been an enigma, but this felt particularly strange. It wasn’t like him to be so unsettled.

Alas, you pushed the oddness aside and decided to focus on the practical. You set about pitching your tent, the familiar motions calming your nerves slightly. Once it was up, you ducked inside to change into your pajamas, eager to get a fire going and start making some food. The pangs of hunger were beginning to make themselves known, and you knew you needed to eat something soon.

When you emerged from the tent, you glanced over at Spencer, who was standing by the car, arms crossed, looking even more out of place than usual. “Spencer, you can use my tent to change if you want,” you offered, trying to bridge the gap between you.

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, almost too quickly. His refusal struck you as odd, adding to the growing list of things that didn’t seem right about this situation.

“Would you mind getting the cooler from the boot then?” you asked, hoping to keep things moving forward, even if everything else felt off.

Spencer nodded and moved to the back of the car, retrieving the cooler with a quiet efficiency. But as you started preparing the food, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was watching you. His gaze was intense, almost as if he was studying you—or perhaps watching out for something.

It was unsettling, to say the least. You tried to brush it off, focusing on the task at hand, but it was difficult to ignore the prickling sensation of being observed so intently. “Everything okay?” you asked casually as you stirred the food, hoping to ease some of the tension.

Spencer blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever thoughts had been occupying his mind. “Yeah,” he said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. 

You paused for a moment, considering his words. While it wasn’t unusual for Spencer to be cautious, the way he was acting now felt different—like he was on edge, anticipating something. “Let’s eat and get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

He nodded, but the unease didn’t leave his eyes. As you finished cooking and began to serve up the food, you couldn’t help but wonder what had Spencer so spooked—and whether you should be more concerned than you already were.

—

That night, Spencer stuck to his word and slept in the car with the doors locked. You couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled by his behavior—he seemed so on edge, far more than you’d ever seen him, and it left you wondering why he had agreed to come camping in the first place. The idea of him spending the night in a locked car instead of enjoying the fresh air and the open sky was odd, to say the least. 

But despite the lingering unease, you slept surprisingly well. Camping had always been something you loved—the scent of the pine trees, the sounds of the forest, the cool breeze that swept through the tent—all of it made you feel at peace. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl, and you drifted off easily, wrapped in your sleeping bag.

When you woke the next morning, the sun was already casting a warm glow over the campsite. You stretched, feeling refreshed, and emerged from your tent to find Spencer already awake. He was crouched by a small fire, a pot of instant coffee brewing over the flames. The sight of him tending to the fire, his movements precise and deliberate, was a little surprising. It was clear that he hadn’t slept much—if at all.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you walked over to him.

“Morning,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but still carrying that edge of tension.

You sat down on one of the logs near the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided as you shook off the last remnants of sleep. “How’d you sleep?” you asked, trying to gauge his mood.

“Fine,” he answered shortly, though you weren’t convinced. “You?”

“Really good,” you said with a small smile. “I love the fresh air. There’s just something about being out here that makes everything feel better.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze fixed on the pot of coffee as he stirred it. “Yeah, fresh air is good,” he said absently, though his tone lacked the enthusiasm you had.

You watched him for a moment, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seemed to be holding himself together with sheer willpower. Something was definitely off, but you weren’t sure how to address it without making him uncomfortable. “Spencer,” you began cautiously, “is everything okay? You seem… different.”

He paused, the spoon in his hand stilling as he considered your question. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I just… I don’t like the idea of being out here without the rest of the team. It doesn’t feel right.”

His admission caught you off guard. You knew Spencer was meticulous, always needing to have control over the details, but you hadn’t realized just how much this situation was affecting him. “I get that,” you said softly, trying to offer some reassurance. “But we’re safe here, and we’ll figure things out. Maybe we’ll hear from them once we’re back in range.”

Spencer gave a small nod, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to push him further. Instead, you focused on the comforting smell of coffee and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden light over the campsite. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

But as you glanced around the site, something caught your eye—a piece of paper tacked to a tree, fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Hey, did you see that?” you asked, pointing towards it.

Before Spencer could answer, you were already on your feet, walking towards the tree. The paper was pinned to the bark with a small tack, and as you pulled it down, you quickly scanned the handwritten note. Your eyes widened as you read the familiar handwriting, the message becoming clear.

Hey guys!

I know you’ll be mad about this, but please see it from our point of view. We sent you two to a separate site, please talk through your issues, we are a team and we need to be able to trust each other. Obviously, we can’t force you to stay, but if you do come home early, you will each have to take two paid days off. No work. 

Please, work it out.

You stared at the note in disbelief for a moment, the words sinking in. This whole thing—Rossi’s directions, the empty campsite, the strange sense of being set up—it had all been orchestrated by the team. They had sent you and Spencer to a completely different site, forcing you into isolation together with the clear intention that you’d hash out whatever had been causing the rift between you.

You turned back to Spencer, holding the note up so he could see it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, frustration and disbelief coloring your voice.

Spencer stood up and walked over, taking the paper from your hand. His eyes quickly scanned the note, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he realized what had happened. “They… they set us up,” he said quietly, his voice laced with irritation and something else—maybe betrayal.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, crossing your arms as you processed the situation. “They’re basically holding us hostage until we ‘work it out.’”

Spencer shook his head, clearly struggling with the realization. “They can’t just force us to talk. We’re not children.”

“Apparently, they think we need to be treated like we are,” you replied, the frustration in your voice mirroring his. 

He remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the note as if it might offer some sort of solution. The fire crackled behind you, the only sound breaking the heavy tension that had settled between the two of you. The note in his hand felt like a ticking time bomb, and you both knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This wasn’t how you had envisioned things going, but there was no turning back now. “Spencer… should we just talk about it?” you asked, your voice softer, almost pleading.

“About what?” he replied, still not meeting your eyes, his tone flat and defensive.

“Come on… please,” you urged, trying to keep your frustration at bay. You needed to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “Did I do something to you?”

“No,” he answered quickly, his voice sharp with finality.

“But you don’t like me,” you pressed, feeling the frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t just his short answers that were getting to you; it was the wall he was so clearly putting up, the refusal to even entertain the possibility of a conversation. You were tired of dancing around the issue, of feeling like you were constantly walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s not—” Spencer started, but then he cut himself off, clenching his jaw. His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flash in them—something like pain, or maybe guilt. But just as quickly, he looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The firmness in his voice left little room for argument, but you weren’t ready to give up. Not after everything. “Spencer, please,” you said, trying to reach him on a level beyond the walls he’d built around himself. “I’m not trying to push you, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s affecting the team. It’s affecting us. We can’t just keep pretending it doesn’t exist.”

Spencer’s shoulders tensed, and you could see the internal struggle he was facing, the way his mind was working through a hundred different thoughts at once. He seemed to be weighing his options, considering whether or not to open up. But in the end, all he did was shake his head again, his expression closing off. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, but I just… I can’t.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, not just for yourself, but for him too. Whatever was going on inside his head, it was clearly something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share. And that left you at an impasse, standing on opposite sides of a divide neither of you knew how to cross.

“Okay, well,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you turned away from him, “I’m just going to go for a walk then.”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “No, Y/N, that could be dangerous,” he said, his tone more urgent than you expected. There was a genuine concern in his voice, a sharp contrast to the distance he’d been maintaining.

“I don’t care,” you replied, your words coming out sharper than you intended. You needed to clear your head, to get some space, even if it meant wandering off into the woods. The tension between you and Spencer had reached a breaking point, and staying here, in this stifling atmosphere, felt unbearable.

You turned and started walking away, not really caring which direction you were heading. The forest loomed around you, the trees casting long shadows in the morning light, but you welcomed the solitude. You needed time to think, to process everything that had just happened.

Behind you, you heard Spencer call your name again, but you didn’t stop. The sound of his voice faded as you walked deeper into the trees, the cool air brushing against your skin as you moved further away from the campsite. You didn’t know where you were going or how far you would walk, but right now, that didn’t matter. All you wanted was some distance—from the campsite, from Spencer, from the emotions that had been building up inside you.

You heard the leaves crunch beneath your boots as you continued walking, the forest growing quieter with each step. The anger and frustration that had driven you out here began to ebb, replaced by a heavy feeling of sadness. You didn’t know why Spencer was so intent on keeping you at arm’s length, but whatever it was, it hurt. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the rhythm of your footsteps and the cool, fresh air filling your lungs. The walk might not solve anything, but it was a start. At least out here, you could breathe.

—

When you finally returned to the campsite, the tension in your chest had eased, though the lingering frustration and sadness hadn’t entirely left. As you approached, you noticed Spencer sitting by the fire, a new book in his hands. His fingers flicked through the pages at lightning speed, a blur of motion as he absorbed the text with the kind of intensity that only Spencer Reid could muster.

He didn’t look up right away, but you noticed his ears perk up at the sound of your footsteps crunching over the forest floor. It was a subtle movement, but it was clear he was aware of your presence, even if he wasn’t immediately acknowledging it. 

You stood there for a moment, watching him as he continued to read, his focus unwavering despite your return. The sight of him, so deeply engrossed in his book, made you wonder if he’d spent the entire time trying to escape into its pages, to block out the unresolved tension between you both. 

“Okay, Spencer,” you began, your voice steady as you walked closer to where he sat. “Here it is. I’ll drive us back tonight. I’ll tell Hotch that I made us leave and I’ll take the two days of paid leave. It’s fine. You don’t have to talk to me, and I’ll take the blame.”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. There was surprise and confusion in his expression, as if he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. For a moment, he just stared at you, the book forgotten in his hands.

“You… you’d do that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain. He had expected you to be angry, maybe even confrontational after the way things had gone earlier, but instead, here you were, offering to take the blame, to make it easier for him.

It was clear that Spencer couldn’t believe how nice you were being, especially after everything. He had spent so long keeping you at a distance, fearing that you might turn out to be like your sister, but your words and actions were proving just how wrong he might have been.

“Yeah,” you said with a small shrug, trying to downplay the gesture even though it meant a lot to you. “I mean, we’re obviously not getting anywhere with this. If leaving early is what’s best, then that’s what we’ll do. And I don’t mind taking the hit for it. I’m not going to force you to talk if you don’t want to.”

Spencer swallowed, still struggling to find the right words. He wasn’t used to this kind of kindness, especially not from someone he had kept at arm’s length for so long. It was disarming, to say the least.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a soft, understanding smile. “But I’m offering to because I know this whole situation isn’t easy for either of us. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”

For a long moment, Spencer just looked at you, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of him with the fears and assumptions he had held onto for so long. 

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice sincere. “I… I really appreciate it. But maybe… maybe we don’t have to leave just yet. We could just… see how things go.”

You nodded, sensing the tentative olive branch he was offering. “Okay,” you said gently, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something better between the two of you.

Spencer nodded, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on his lips. It was a start—a small one, but a start nonetheless.

“Could I maybe ask you a question?” you ventured, your voice tentative, hoping to bridge the gap between you both just a little more.

“Sure,” Spencer said, closing his book slightly but still keeping his thumb between the pages, as if not entirely ready to let go of his comfort zone.

“Did I… do something?” you asked, the question hanging in the air between you. You had to know, even if it was uncomfortable.

Spencer’s eyes softened as he shook his head. “No,” he replied, his tone gentle, yet firm. “You didn’t do anything.”

There was a brief pause, the silence between you more comfortable now than it had been earlier. You gave a small nod, accepting his answer even if it didn’t give you all the clarity you had hoped for. “Okay, I’ll leave you with your book,” you said, starting to step back, figuring he might want some space.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t pick up where he left off in his book. Instead, he looked up at you, his expression more open than it had been since you’d met. “You don’t have to… we can talk a bit,” he offered, and though his voice was cautious, there was a genuine willingness in it.

You smiled slightly, appreciating the gesture. “Alright,” you agreed, trying to think of something simple to start with. “Um, where did you grow up?”

“Las Vegas,” Spencer answered, the familiar name rolling off his tongue with a mix of nostalgia and a hint of something else—perhaps a memory he wasn’t sure he wanted to share yet.

“Seriously?” you asked, your eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah… is that weird?” Spencer replied, his expression uncertain, as if he was bracing for your reaction.

“No, no, that’s where I grew up too,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. The coincidence was almost too much to wrap your head around.

“Oh…” Spencer’s voice trailed off, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He seemed hesitant, like there was something more he wasn’t saying.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, sensing there was more to the story. “Okay, you know something. Did you see my file or something?”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting away for a moment before he answered. “Or something…”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, half-joking, but still curious. “Oh, come on, Spencer. What’s up? What school did you go to?”

“Las Vegas High,” he admitted, finally meeting your gaze again.

Your eyes lit up with recognition. “Me too! Wait… but you’re only two years younger than me. Would I have known you?”

Spencer’s expression shifted slightly, and you could see a mix of emotions flicker across his face—hesitation, discomfort, maybe even a touch of embarrassment. “No… uh, I was a freshman at 8 years old.”

“Woah! That’s insane!” you exclaimed, genuinely amazed. “That must have been so difficult for you.”

“It was,” Spencer admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of old memories.

You felt a pang of empathy for him, imagining how tough it must have been to navigate high school as a child. The challenges he faced were beyond anything you could have imagined at that age. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I wish we had been in school at the same time, we could have been friends,” you said, offering him a warm smile.

Spencer’s discomfort was palpable, and you could sense it immediately, like a shift in the air between you. He shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping back to the ground as if he was retreating into himself again. “What did we bring for dinner tonight?” he asked, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to steer the conversation away from where it had been heading.

The sudden change in topic stung, a pang of rejection hitting you square in the chest. You had thought, just for a moment, that you were making progress, that maybe you were getting through to him. But you knew Spencer well enough by now to realize that he wasn’t ready to go there, not yet. And pushing him wouldn’t help.

So, for his sake, you forced yourself to move on. “Uh, hotdogs, I think,” you said, trying to match his casual tone, even though the disappointment lingered in the back of your mind.

You busied yourself with preparing the food, focusing on the simple task of gathering the ingredients and setting them up by the fire. The familiar motions helped ground you, giving you something to concentrate on besides the unease that had crept back into your interactions.

Spencer remained quiet, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you worked. There was a tension in his posture, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he was still grappling with whatever had made him uncomfortable in the first place. 

“Hotdogs it is, then,” you said, forcing a small smile as you handed him a stick to skewer the hotdogs. You hoped that by focusing on something as simple as cooking dinner, you could ease some of the tension between you, even if the conversation from earlier still hung heavy in the air.

Spencer took the stick from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before he looked away again. 

As the two of you cooked over the fire, the crackling flames and the scent of roasting hotdogs filled the air, creating a more comfortable silence. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start, and for now, that was enough.

—

The conversation over dinner had been light and mostly focused on work—discussing cases, swapping stories about the more mundane aspects of life at the BAU. It was easy, familiar territory, a safe haven for both of you to retreat to after the earlier tension. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the campsite, a quiet settled between you.

After finishing your meal, you excused yourself to change into your pajamas, the cool night air making you eager to get comfortable. When you returned to the fire, Spencer was still sitting by the flames, the orange light flickering over his face as he stared into the fire, lost in thought.

You approached him, sitting back down across from him. The night was still, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to break the fragile peace, but curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Reid,” you called softly, trying to ease into the question that had been on your mind since the night before.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, not looking up from the fire but clearly acknowledging you.

You bit your lip, then decided to just go for it. “Why did you sleep in the car?”

The question hung in the air between you, and you saw Spencer’s entire body stiffen. He froze, his eyes widening slightly, the tension in his shoulders returning in an instant. You could tell he didn’t want to answer, and for a second, you regretted asking. But you had to know.

“Just safer, I guess,” he finally mumbled, his voice tight and unconvincing. His eyes remained fixed on the fire, avoiding your gaze entirely.

You could sense there was more to it, something he wasn’t telling you, but you decided not to push. Spencer was clearly uncomfortable, and whatever the real reason was, he wasn’t ready to share it. So you nodded, accepting his explanation even if it didn’t feel entirely truthful.

“Okay,” you said softly, letting the matter drop. You didn’t want to make him feel any more uneasy than he already did.

—

Halfway through the night, you jolted awake, your heart pounding in your chest. There was an eerie, unsettling sound coming from outside your tent—a low, persistent noise that sent chills down your spine. You tried to ignore it, to convince yourself it was just the wind or some animal moving through the underbrush, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down. The noise wasn’t stopping, and the longer it went on, the more your imagination ran wild.

Unable to shake the growing fear, you carefully and quietly unzipped your sleeping bag and slipped out of the tent. The cold night air hit you immediately, but the fear kept you moving. You crept toward the car, every step making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. When you reached the car, you knocked lightly on the window, hoping not to startle Spencer too much.

“Spencer!” you whisper-yelled, trying to keep your voice low but urgent. You could see him stir where he had flattened the back seats into a makeshift bed, his body shifting as he came to.

“Reid!” you whispered again, a little more urgently this time.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with wide, confused eyes. He sat up quickly, clearly surprised to see you standing there in the middle of the night. He leaned forward and unlocked the door, cracking it open just enough to speak to you. “What??” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep and a touch of irritation.

“Can I come in, please?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly with fear.

Spencer blinked, clearly not expecting that. “No??” he replied, still half-asleep and unsure of what you were asking.

“Spencer, there’s a really scary noise out here,” you pleaded, your fear becoming more evident as you looked at him with wide, desperate eyes. “Please, please let me in.”

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing. He was still wary, worried that this might be some sort of prank or something worse. But as he looked at you, really looked at you, he saw the genuine fear in your expression. You weren’t trying to mess with him—you were genuinely scared. He’d never seen you like this before.

“Okay, fine,” he finally relented, scooting over to make room for you in the cramped space.

You didn’t waste any time, quickly crawling into the car and pulling the door closed behind you. As soon as you were inside, Spencer locked the doors again, the click of the locks echoing in the silence.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the car suddenly feeling much smaller with both of you inside. The strange noise outside continued, but now that you were with Spencer, the fear didn’t seem as overwhelming. You still couldn’t pinpoint what the noise was, but you felt safer with him there, even if he was still a bit unsure about the whole situation.

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the irritation gone.

You nodded, still trying to calm your racing heart. “Yeah… I just couldn’t stay in the tent with that noise. It was freaking me out.”

He nodded in understanding, though his eyes flicked toward the windows, clearly trying to listen for the noise himself. “It’s probably just an animal,” he said, trying to reassure both you and himself.

“Maybe,” you whispered, though you weren’t entirely convinced. But for now, you were just grateful to be out of the tent and with someone who made you feel a little less alone.

—

Eventually, despite the lingering fear and the cramped quarters, exhaustion took over, and you both drifted off to sleep in the back of the car. The strange noise outside had faded into the background, and the warmth of the enclosed space made it easier to relax. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, however, Spencer stirred from his sleep, his body shifting slightly as he became aware of something unexpected. Blinking his eyes open, he realized with a start that your limbs were wrapped around him, your body pressed close as you clung to him in your sleep. Your arm was draped over his chest, your leg tangled with his, and your head was nestled against his shoulder. It was as if you had sought out the warmth and security he provided, even unconsciously.

Spencer froze, his mind racing as he tried to process the situation. He wasn’t used to this—intimacy, even in such an innocent form, was foreign territory for him. His heart started to race, not out of fear but out of sheer confusion. What was he supposed to do? Should he wake you? Should he try to untangle himself without disturbing you? 

But as he lay there, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing against him, he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was something oddly comforting about the way you had sought him out, something that made him feel… needed. It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, and it left him at a loss for what to do next.

He glanced down at you, seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. The fear and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a calmness that was almost contagious. Spencer’s mind continued to whirl, but he didn’t want to disturb you—not when you seemed so at ease.

So, he stayed still, letting you cling to him, trying to reconcile the strange mix of emotions coursing through him. The awkwardness was still there, but it was tempered by a quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between you two were starting to change. And for the first time in a long while, that didn’t seem so terrifying after all.

—

When the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting warm golden rays across the campsite, Spencer was already outside, crouched by the fire as he prepared coffee. The familiar scent of brewing coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the fresh scent of the forest, creating a peaceful start to the day. You emerged from the car, feeling a little stiff from the cramped sleep, but more than that, you were feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

You approached Spencer, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey… thanks again for letting me bunk with you,” you said, your voice laced with genuine gratitude.

“No problem,” Spencer replied, his tone flat, distant, as he focused on the coffee. He didn’t look up, his gaze firmly fixed on the task at hand.

The coldness in his voice felt like a sharp contrast to the fleeting moment of connection you thought you’d shared the night before. You sighed, the disappointment settling heavily in your chest. Somehow, it seemed like you’d messed up again, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection all over again.

“Did that… make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry,” you ventured, hoping to clear the air, even if it meant confronting whatever it was that had made him withdraw.

“It’s fine,” Spencer replied, his voice clipped, as if he was trying to end the conversation before it could really start. He still didn’t meet your eyes, his attention entirely on the coffee pot.

You watched him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache of misunderstanding between you two. It was clear that whatever had happened during the night had unsettled him, but he wasn’t willing to talk about it. The walls were back up, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t seem to break through.

But instead of pressing further, you decided to let it go, at least for now. Pushing Spencer never worked, and you knew that trying to force a conversation would only make things worse. So you offered him a small, resigned smile, even if he wasn’t looking to see it.

“Okay,” you said softly, accepting his response even though it left you feeling hollow.

You sat down by the fire, quietly waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The silence between you felt heavy, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had taken a step backward after all the progress you thought you’d made. 

“Um, we can head out whenever you’re ready. We only had to stay until today,” you mumbled, your voice subdued as you stood up and started to take down your tent. You avoided looking directly at Spencer, the awkwardness of the morning still hanging in the air.

“Oh, okay,” Spencer replied, his tone neutral, though you could sense a hint of hesitation in his response.

As you began to disassemble the tent, Spencer watched you for a moment, the silence between you lingering. Despite everything, he found himself reluctant to leave. The tension and awkwardness aside, there had been moments—small, fleeting moments—where he had actually enjoyed your company. The quiet of the campsite, the simplicity of the night, even the unexpected comfort he’d found in your presence last night… it was all something he hadn’t anticipated.

He felt a strange pull, a desire to stay just a little longer, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why. But he was Spencer Reid, and expressing those kinds of feelings wasn’t something that came easily to him. Instead, he stood there, conflicted, as he watched you go about packing up.

“Actually… we don’t have to rush,” Spencer finally said, his voice softer now. “If you want, we could stay for a little while longer. There’s no hurry.”

You paused in your task, surprised by his words. You turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of what had changed his mind. “Are you sure?” you asked cautiously, not wanting to impose if he really wanted to leave.

Spencer nodded, his expression more open than it had been all morning. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s… nice out here. Peaceful.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that morning, you felt a bit of the tension ease. Maybe you hadn’t messed up as badly as you thought. “Okay,” you agreed, setting the tent pole back down. “We can stay a little longer.”

Spencer gave a small, almost imperceptible smile in return, and as the two of you stood there in the morning light, it felt like there was a chance to start over—to take the time neither of you had been willing to take before. 

—

After a simple breakfast, you looked over at Spencer, feeling a bit more at ease with the morning stretching out before you. “When I went for a walk, I saw a body of water,” you suggested, trying to keep the conversation light and inviting. “Do you want to go check it out?”

Spencer looked up from his coffee, a little surprised by the suggestion. “Oh, sure,” he agreed, his tone more relaxed than it had been earlier.

The two of you set off through the trees, following the path you had taken before. It didn’t take long to find the body of water again, the sunlight reflecting off its surface in shimmering patterns. The sight was even more beautiful now, with the morning light casting a gentle glow over the water.

“It’s gorgeous,” Spencer said softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he took in the scene.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your eyes sweeping over the peaceful setting. The water was so clear, so inviting, that you couldn’t resist the urge to get in. “I’m going to get in,” you announced, already starting to kick off your shoes.

“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked, his surprise evident as he watched you strip down to your undergarments without hesitation. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as you waded into the cold, refreshing water, a small shiver running through you as the temperature hit your skin.

The water was invigorating, waking you up in a way that the morning coffee never could. You splashed around a bit, reveling in the feeling of the water against your skin. Turning back to Spencer, who was still standing at the edge, looking unsure of what to do, you grinned. “Do you know how to swim, genius?”

“Yes,” he replied, blushing even deeper as he averted his eyes slightly, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of decorum despite the situation.

“Do you want to join me?” you asked, your voice light and teasing as you floated on your back, letting the water carry you.

Spencer hesitated, clearly torn between his natural inclination to stay dry and the surprising appeal of joining you in the water. After a moment, he looked back at you, the uncertainty in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—curiosity, maybe even a touch of daring.

“Alright,” he finally said, as if making a decision that surprised even himself. With a deep breath, he began to unbutton his shirt, methodically removing his clothes until he was down to a tshirt and briefs. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if he was still a bit unsure about this whole idea.

When he finally stepped into the water, a shiver ran through him as the cold enveloped his body. “It’s… colder than I expected,” he admitted, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, watching as he waded in deeper, adjusting to the temperature. “You’ll get used to it,” you assured him, still floating easily on the surface.

Spencer nodded, his movements tentative at first, but as he swam out to where you were, he began to relax. There was a certain lightness to the moment, a freedom that neither of you had felt in a long time. The water, the sun, the simple act of swimming—it was a welcome escape from the tension that had defined your interactions until now.

The two of you spent what felt like hours playing and splashing in the water, the cool waves washing away the tension that had been hanging between you. It was a rare, carefree moment where you both felt free and childlike, laughing without a care in the world. There were no pressures, no responsibilities—just the simple joy of being in the moment.

But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, signaling that it was time to come out, you noticed a shift in Spencer. He seemed hesitant, his earlier playfulness replaced with a familiar tension. He lingered in the water, avoiding your gaze, and you could sense his discomfort.

“Um, Y/N… can you turn around when I get out?” Spencer asked, his voice quiet, almost nervous.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, of course,” you replied, caught a little off guard by his request but willing to do whatever made him comfortable.

“And, um… maybe walk a bit away?” he added, his tone even more tentative.

“Uh huh, sure. Whatever you want,” you said gently, giving him a reassuring smile before turning away and moving up the bank. You grabbed your clothes and began walking a bit further from the water, giving him the privacy he clearly needed.

Spencer waited until you were a safe distance away and preoccupied with getting dressed before he quickly and quietly scrambled out of the water, pulling on his clothes as fast as he could. The vulnerability of being in nothing but water-tight briefs had brought back all his fears, the insecurities that had haunted him for years.

As you both started the walk back to the campsite, you couldn’t help but address the tension that still lingered. “Did you think I would make fun of you?” you asked, your voice soft, but tinged with concern.

Spencer shook his head slightly, though he didn’t look at you. “Oh, no, I don’t know,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.

Your heart ached at his response. “I wouldn’t, for the record,” you said earnestly, hoping to reassure him.

There was a brief silence, heavy with unspoken emotions, before you felt compelled to share something of your own. “I grew up with a really mean sister,” you began, your voice carrying the weight of old wounds. “She would make fun of everyone for anything and everything, including me. It was a torturous way to grow up. I would never want to make anyone feel the way that she made me feel.”

Spencer suddenly stopped walking, his entire body tensing as if he’d hit an invisible wall. You turned to him, alarmed by the sudden change.

“Spencer? Are you okay?” you asked, worry lacing your voice.

He took a deep breath, his voice strained as he spoke. “It’s not you, it’s never been you,” he said, his words confusing you even more. “It was your sister.”

“What?” you whispered, the revelation hitting you like a cold gust of wind.

“Your sister was in my grade in high school,” Spencer explained, his voice trembling with the emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

“Oh…” was all you could manage, the pieces slowly clicking into place.

“She wasn’t nice,” Spencer continued, his voice thick with the memories. His eyes welled up with tears, and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “She bullied me pretty relentlessly. Tied me up naked to a flagpole and took pictures.”

“Spencer… oh my God,” you breathed, horror and guilt crashing over you. You thought your heart had broken earlier, but now it felt shattered, the pieces scattered by the weight of his confession. “I don’t even know what to say. I am so, so sorry. No one ever deserves that. I can’t believe you went through that.”

Spencer nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he stood there, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. The pain he had carried for so long, the fear that had driven a wedge between you, was now out in the open. 

“Can I—can I hug you?” you offered, your voice gentle, filled with the empathy and care that had been building in your heart since Spencer’s revelation.

Spencer hesitated for only a moment before nodding, allowing you to pull him into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the tension in his body gradually melt away as he leaned into the comfort you were offering.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmured softly against his shoulder. “I’m going to assume that you were afraid of me being like my sister, and that’s why you didn’t talk to me.”

Spencer nodded again, his silent confirmation making your heart ache even more for him. You could only imagine the fear and pain he must have felt, avoiding you because of a past that had nothing to do with who you truly were.

“I just want you to know, Spencer,” you continued, your voice steady but filled with emotion, “I would never do anything to hurt you in any way. I am nothing like her. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the opposite of her. My family disowned her a long time ago.”

Spencer pulled back slightly then, just enough to look at you, his eyes still wet with tears. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before, a deep, raw emotion that spoke volumes. “I believe you,” he whispered, his voice breaking but filled with sincerity.

Your own eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his belief in you meaning more than you could express. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel uncomfortable this whole time,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “I completely understand why you didn’t want to get too close to me.”

Spencer shook his head slightly, about to apologize, but you stopped him before he could. “No, never apologize for protecting yourself,” you insisted, your tone firm but kind. “We’ve solved it now, and that’s what matters. I hope we can be friends?”

There was a moment of silence as Spencer processed your words, and then, slowly, a small but genuine smile formed on his lips. “Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and hope wash over you. The wall between you and Spencer had finally come down, and in its place was the beginning of a real connection—one built on understanding, empathy, and the promise of a friendship that could grow from here.

“Thank you,” Spencer added quietly, his voice full of gratitude. And for the first time, you both felt like you were truly starting fresh, free from the shadows of the past.

—

You and Spencer made it back to Quantico with a sense of quiet relief, knowing that the rift between you had finally been addressed. When you reported back to the team, you both kept the details vague, simply letting them know that you had worked things out. Spencer was immensely grateful for your discretion, and you could see it in the small, appreciative smiles he sent your way. During the ride back, the two of you had chatted the entire time, the conversation flowing easily as if the weight of the past had finally been lifted.

The next day at work, you felt a new sense of ease around Spencer. The tension was gone, replaced by the beginnings of what felt like a genuine friendship. As you approached his desk, you felt a little flutter of nerves, but it was a good kind—like you were about to take a step forward into something new.

“Hey, Spencer…” you called softly as you reached his desk.

He looked up from his work, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.

“Would you maybe want to come over this weekend? We could watch a movie or something?” you asked, hoping to continue building on the connection you’d started.

“Sure,” he grinned, clearly pleased by the invitation. “That sounds great.”

You returned his smile, feeling a little spark of excitement as you walked away. It felt good to know that things between you and Spencer were on a new path, one that was built on mutual understanding and trust.

Unbeknownst to you, Derek Morgan had been casually eavesdropping from a distance. As soon as you were out of earshot, he sneaked up on Spencer, a mischievous grin on his face. “You got yourself a date, Reid?” Derek teased, leaning on the desk with a playful glint in his eye.

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “What? No, we’re just hanging out,” he insisted, his voice flustered but firm.

“Mhm,” Derek hummed, not buying it for a second, his teasing grin only widening. “Sure, man, just hanging out.”

Spencer shot him a look, trying to maintain his composure, but the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. Despite Derek’s teasing, there was a sense of warmth and excitement bubbling up inside Spencer—because for the first time, “just hanging out” with someone felt like it could lead to something more, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet.

Derek chuckled and gave Spencer a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Spencer to ponder the possibilities that lay ahead, a small smile still lingering on his face.

—

Friday evening arrived faster than you and Spencer had expected. Both of you were feeling excitement and nervousness, eager for the evening ahead but also unsure of how it would unfold. You had spent the day tidying up and preparing your living room, making sure everything was just right for your night of movie watching and hanging out. You wanted Spencer to feel comfortable, and you hoped the cozy atmosphere you’d created would help set the tone for a relaxing evening.

When Spencer arrived at your place, he was immediately taken aback by the scene before him. Your living room was bathed in the soft glow of string lights, their warm hue giving the room a welcoming, almost magical quality. The sunset outside the window painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, adding to the serene ambiance. The couch was piled with soft blankets, and a few pillows were scattered around, inviting him to sit and get comfortable. On the coffee table, you had set out some snacks, drinks, and everything you might need for a night of watching movies.

As he stepped inside, Spencer couldn’t help but smile, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He had been half-expecting some sort of trick or prank, but instead, you had gone out of your way to make the evening as enjoyable as possible. It was clear that you genuinely wanted to spend time with him, and the effort you’d put into setting everything up didn’t go unnoticed.

“Wow,” Spencer said softly, his eyes taking in the cozy, well-thought-out setup. “This looks amazing.”

You smiled, pleased that he seemed to like it. “Thanks, I wanted to make sure we could just relax and have a good time,” you replied, motioning for him to come in and make himself comfortable. “No tricks, I promise.”

Spencer chuckled, the tension he’d been feeling all day melting away as he settled onto the couch. “I believe you,” he said, feeling more at ease than he had expected. 

As you both sat down, the air was filled with a comfortable anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing you’re about to spend time with someone you genuinely enjoy being around. It was the start of what promised to be a wonderful evening, free from the worries of the past and full of the potential for a growing friendship.

After the first movie ended, the credits rolling across the screen, you and Spencer found yourselves lingering on the couch, the atmosphere between you light and airy, buoyed by the humor of the comedy you’d just watched. The laughter had done its job, breaking down any lingering tension, and now conversation flowed easily between you.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” you asked, turning to Spencer with a smile. You’d both been chuckling throughout, but you were curious to hear his thoughts now that it was over.

“It was great,” Spencer replied, a genuine grin on his face. “I don’t usually watch a lot of comedies, but that one was really funny. The timing, the dialogue… it was all really well done.” He seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, his guard down as he leaned back into the couch.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you said, pleased that he had enjoyed it. “Sometimes you just need something light to unwind, you know?”

Spencer nodded in agreement. “Definitely. It’s nice to just… laugh, without thinking too much.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I guess I don’t do that enough.”

You smiled softly at his admission, feeling a warmth in your chest at the idea that tonight was giving him something he didn’t often allow himself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. We can do this more often if you want. Just hang out and relax.”

Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes softening. “I’d like that,” he said sincerely. “It’s nice to have someone to do this with.”

There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, the kind that felt natural and unforced. You reached for the remote, ready to start another movie, but found yourself pausing, wanting to keep the conversation going a little longer.

“So, what’s one movie you think I should watch?” you asked, curious to hear his recommendation. “Something you really love.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with excitement, the prospect of sharing one of his favorite films with you clearly appealing to him. “Oh, there are so many,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “But if I had to pick one… Have you ever seen *The Great Dictator* by Charlie Chaplin?”

You shook your head, intrigued by his choice. “No, I haven’t. Is it good?”

“It’s incredible,” Spencer said, his voice full of admiration. “It’s one of Chaplin’s best works—a satire that’s both funny and deeply poignant. It’s also one of the first films where he speaks, and the final speech… it’s just powerful.”

“Wow, sounds like a must-watch,” you said, genuinely interested. “We should definitely put that on our list for next time.”

“Absolutely,” Spencer agreed, smiling. “I think you’d really appreciate it.”

As the night wound down, the conversation between you and Spencer became more intimate, the two of you curled up on the couch, facing each other. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, the barriers that had once stood between you now gone. The flickering glow of the TV cast soft shadows around the room, but your focus was entirely on each other, the outside world forgotten for the moment.

“So, Reid… are you seeing anyone?” you asked, your tone light but curious.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Hah, no, I’m not,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Are you?”

“I was,” you admitted, feeling a small flush rise to your cheeks. “But they were kind of flaky, not ready to commit.”

“That makes sense,” Spencer said, nodding thoughtfully. “Do you date a lot?”

You blushed a little deeper, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Not a lot,” you confessed. “I prefer to wait for a genuine connection.”

“Me too,” Spencer agreed, his voice soft, as if he were relieved to find that you shared the same sentiment.

“Have you dated recently?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. Spencer had always seemed so private, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone special in his life.

“Not really,” he said, a small, almost sad smile crossing his face. “I… am kind of wary of dating.”

“Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said gently, not wanting to push him but also wanting to understand more about him.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not to share. “Um… well, in school, girls would ask me on dates, and when I showed up, they’d make fun of me and take pictures,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet, the pain from those memories still lingering.

“Like my sister?” you asked softly, already suspecting the answer.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes flickering with the old hurt. “That’s how she… yeah.”

“Oh, Spencer…” you breathed, your heart breaking for him all over again. You reached out instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, but you held back, respecting his space.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he said, his voice firmer this time, as if he needed to move past the subject for his own peace of mind.

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not wanting to cause him any more pain.

There was a brief silence, one that felt heavy with unspoken words, but before you could change the topic, Spencer spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You’re prettier than her, you know.”

“What’s that?” you asked, not sure you had heard him correctly.

“Your sister,” Spencer clarified, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re prettier. And nicer, but that’s a given.”

You felt your cheeks flush deeply, not just from his words, but from the way he said them—with such earnestness, as if he’d been holding onto that thought for a while. The compliment caught you off guard, and you weren’t quite sure how to respond.

“Thank you,” you finally managed, your voice soft, touched by his words more than you could express. “That really means a lot. She… did not think so.”

Spencer’s expression softened even further, a mix of empathy and determination in his eyes. “I hope you know that you are,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, a warm smile spreading across your face. “You’re really pretty too.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, his cheeks tinging pink at the unexpected compliment. “Really?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and curiosity.

“Mhm,” you nodded, your smile widening. “I’ve always thought so.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch Spencer off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t often that he received compliments like this—especially not from someone he was beginning to care about as much as he cared about you. He felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of validation that he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper, but the smile that touched his lips was genuine and full of a newfound confidence. There was something deeply reassuring about your words, something that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt before.

As the evening continued, the bond between you only deepened, both of you more relaxed and open with each other than you had been before. The compliments exchanged were just the beginning—a sign that what was growing between you was more than just a simple friendship. It was a connection built on mutual respect, admiration, and a shared understanding of each other’s pasts and insecurities.

—

“How was your date, pretty boy?” Derek teased, his voice carrying across the bullpen as he leaned against Spencer's desk with a wide grin.

“It wasn’t a date,” Spencer mumbled, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in front of him. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and he desperately wished Derek would drop the subject.

“Reid had a date?” Rossi’s voice chimed in as he walked by, a look of amused surprise on his face.

“Yep! Friday night,” Derek laughed, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

“Would you guys keep it down? I did not have a date,” Spencer hissed, his voice low and urgent as he glanced nervously toward the entrance. The last thing he wanted was for you to walk in and overhear them. The thought of you getting the wrong idea—or worse, feeling awkward about the night—made his stomach twist.

“Aw, come on, Reid,” Derek continued, not ready to let it go just yet. “You’re telling me you spent a whole evening at Y/N’s place, all cozy on the couch, and that wasn’t a date?”

Spencer sighed, his frustration mounting as he tried to formulate a response that would shut down the teasing. “We were just hanging out,” he insisted, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that crept into his voice at the memory of the evening. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

Derek exchanged a knowing look with Rossi, both of them clearly unconvinced but willing to let it slide—for now, at least. “Alright, alright,” Derek said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so, pretty boy.”

Rossi chuckled, giving Spencer a reassuring pat on the back. “Whatever it was, it’s good to see you two getting along,” he said, his tone more serious now.

Spencer nodded, grateful for the subtle shift in the conversation. “Thanks, Rossi,” he replied quietly, hoping the conversation was finally over.

Just as the tension began to ease, you walked through the door, a bright smile on your face as you entered the bullpen. Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked down at his work, praying that the others wouldn’t say anything more.

“Morning, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the earlier exchange.

“Morning, Y/N,” Derek and Rossi replied in unison, their voices notably more innocent than they had been moments before.

Spencer dared a quick glance up at you, relieved to see that you hadn’t picked up on the previous teasing. “Morning,” he mumbled, trying to focus on the files in front of him.

You gave him a warm smile, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Whatever Derek and Rossi thought, you knew the truth—and that was all that mattered.

—

“Hey, Y/N,” Alex greeted you with a warm smile as she approached your desk.

“Hey, Alex,” you replied, returning the smile. “How was your weekend?”

“It was relaxing, thanks for asking,” Alex said, her tone light and casual. “How about you? What’s up?”

Before you could answer, Alex’s eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief as she continued, “I heard you had a date this weekend.”

You blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off by the comment. “Uh, nope. Just hung out with Reid and went to the farmers market,” you clarified, wondering where she had gotten the idea that it was anything more.

Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the teasing. “It wasn’t a date with Reid?”

“No? Did he say it was?” you asked, genuinely curious now. Had Spencer mentioned something to someone that made them think it was a date?

Realizing she might have stirred something up unintentionally, Alex quickly backtracked. “I think I might have misspoke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any confusion,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Bye, Alex,” you replied, still a bit puzzled by the exchange. As she walked away, you couldn’t help but replay the conversation in your head, wondering how such a simple evening of hanging out with Spencer had turned into a rumor about a date.

Shaking your head, you decided not to dwell on it too much. You knew the truth of the situation, and that was enough. Still, the idea of others seeing you and Spencer as something more than friends lingered in your mind, leaving you with curiosity and uncertainty as you returned to your work.

—

“Reid! You had a date with Y/N and didn’t think to tell me?? I thought we were close!” Penelope’s voice whined from across the breakroom, her tone a mix of hurt and playful exaggeration.

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face her. “I did not have a date with Y/N!” he insisted, exasperation clear in his voice. “Did Derek tell you that? I swear, the gossip in this office travels at the speed of light.”

Penelope shook her head, her brightly colored glasses slipping slightly down her nose. “Oh, no, I heard it from JJ.”

“JJ?” Spencer repeated, even more bewildered. “I never told JJ anything about a date because there wasn’t a date!”

Penelope tilted her head, a curious look on her face. “Maybe Y/N did…”

Spencer sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he processed the situation. “No, Y/N wouldn’t have said it was a date because it wasn’t,” he reiterated, feeling like the whole thing was spiraling out of control.

Penelope’s expression softened as she realized how flustered Spencer was. “Okay, okay, calm down, boy genius,” she said gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s just a bit of harmless teasing. But, honestly, with how everyone’s talking, it does kind of sound like a date, you know?”

Spencer groaned inwardly, knowing that trying to convince everyone otherwise was starting to feel like a losing battle. “It was just a casual hangout,” he emphasized, though even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded at this point.

Penelope studied him for a moment, her gaze more thoughtful now. “Okay, I believe you,” she finally said with a small smile. “But just so you know, if it ever turns into more than just a hangout… you can always come to me for advice.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he offered her a shy smile in return. “Thanks, Penelope. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, Penelope gave him a quick hug before heading out of the breakroom, leaving Spencer standing there, still a little dazed by how quickly the rumor mill had turned a simple evening into a full-blown office saga. But as he finished his coffee, he couldn’t help but wonder—if so many people were seeing it as more than just a hangout, was there something there he hadn’t fully acknowledged yet?

—

You were focused on making copies in the copier room when you heard the door creak open behind you. Turning around, you were pleasantly surprised to see Spencer standing there. 

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile, happy to see him.

“Hi…” he replied, but his tone was hesitant, his usual shyness creeping back in.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Oh no, I thought we were past the cold shoulder,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease whatever tension he might be feeling.

Spencer’s expression softened, and he quickly shook his head. “Sorry, we are,” he assured you, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and JJ walked in, a playful grin on her face. “Hey, love birds,” she teased, clearly unaware of the moment she was interrupting.

Startled, you jumped, your hand slipping and slamming down on the copier lid. “Ow!” you yelped, pain shooting through your fingers as you quickly pulled your hand back.

JJ’s face immediately filled with concern as she rushed over. “Oh shoot, Y/N, I didn’t mean to scare you!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with guilt.

Spencer was at your side in an instant, his worry evident in his eyes. “Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern as he reached for your injured hand.

You winced, flexing your fingers slightly to test them. “No, I crushed my hand really hard,” you admitted, the throbbing pain making it difficult to think about anything else.

“Let’s go get you some ice,” Spencer said quickly, his hand gently guiding you toward the door.

JJ nodded, clearly feeling bad about what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity as she followed you both out of the room.

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, though the pain in your hand made it hard to keep the smile on your face. “It was just an accident.”

Spencer didn’t waste any time as he led you down the hall, his worry for you clear in his every movement. Once you reached the breakroom, he quickly grabbed a small bag of ice from the freezer, wrapping it in a towel before gently pressing it against your injured hand.

“Here,” he said softly, his voice full of concern as he held the ice in place. “This should help.”

You nodded gratefully, touched by how attentive he was being. “Thanks, Spencer,” you murmured, the pain starting to dull under the cool pressure of the ice.

In that moment, as Spencer held the ice gently against your hand, you looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile. The concern in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch—it was all so sweet, so genuine. For a second, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of shared warmth. Anyone looking at you both in that moment would have seen it—the soft, unspoken affection that had been quietly growing between you.

Just then, the door to the breakroom swung open, and Aaron Hotchner walked in, his gaze immediately landing on the two of you. He stopped short, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Whoa, am I interrupting something?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his usually serious tone.

You and Spencer both snapped out of your little world, glancing at each other with wide eyes before quickly looking away, your faces flushing with embarrassment.

“No, uh, Y/N just hurt her hand,” Spencer stammered, his voice a little higher than usual as he struggled to explain. “I was just helping her with some ice.”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a small smile, clearly not entirely convinced by the rushed explanation. “I see,” he said, his tone even but with that subtle hint of amusement. “Well, it’s good to see you’re taking care of each other.”

You nodded, still blushing, but managed to muster a smile. “Thanks, Hotch. It’s nothing serious, just a little bump.”

“Glad to hear it,” Aaron replied, giving you both a knowing look before heading to the coffee machine. He didn’t say anything more, but the slight smirk on his face as he poured his coffee said plenty.

As he left the room, the silence between you and Spencer felt charged, the air thick with the unspoken feelings that neither of you were quite ready to fully acknowledge. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a warmth—an understanding that something was shifting between you, something neither of you could deny.

Finally, Spencer broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You should keep the ice on for a while,” he said, still holding the towel-wrapped bag against your hand.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice just as quiet, but your heart was still racing from the earlier moment. “Thanks, Spencer. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before flicking away again. “Anytime,” he murmured, and despite the awkwardness, there was a small, genuine smile on his lips that made your heart flutter just a little more.

—

By the end of the week, the teasing from the team had mostly died down. The playful comments and knowing looks had given way to the usual routines of work, and everyone seemed to move on from the idea that you and Spencer were more than just friends. But despite the outward calm, Spencer couldn’t shake the thoughts that lingered in his mind.

All week, he found himself replaying the moments you had shared—the movie night, the quiet conversations, the way you had looked at him when he held the ice against your hand. It wasn’t just the teasing that had gotten under his skin; it was the way it made him question things he hadn’t fully considered before.

Spencer wasn’t someone who easily delved into matters of the heart. His mind was so often occupied with facts, statistics, and the complexities of human behavior that his own emotions sometimes felt like an unsolvable puzzle. But now, those emotions were harder to ignore. He kept thinking about the way your smile made his heart beat a little faster, or how he found comfort in your presence in a way that was different from anyone else.

He was still trying to wrap his head around what it all meant. Was it just friendship, or was there something more? And if there was more, what did that mean for both of you? Spencer wasn’t sure he had the answers, but he knew he couldn’t just brush it off as easily as he once might have.

As the week came to a close, he found himself wanting to talk to you more, to spend time with you, to explore whatever this was between you both. The thought of asking you out—actually asking you out—crossed his mind more than once, but every time he considered it, a wave of nerves would hit him, and he’d retreat back into his thoughts.

By Friday afternoon, he was still thinking about it as he sat at his desk, his work in front of him but his mind far from focused on the task at hand. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but there was also a flicker of excitement there, a small hope that maybe, just maybe, this could turn into something real.

—

As the workday came to an end, people began to gather around the elevators, eager to start their weekends. Spencer had been keeping an eye out for you, hoping to catch you before you left. He wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out again this weekend, the thought of spending more time with you making him feel both nervous and excited.

But just as he was about to approach you, another agent, Brant Ledgers, beat him to it. Spencer slowed his pace, watching the exchange from a distance, his heart sinking as Brant tried to turn on the charm.

“Hey, Agent,” Brant said, his voice smooth, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

“Um, hello,” you replied, taken aback by his sudden approach.

“You look beautiful today, and I couldn’t help but notice you smell divine. Did you intentionally pick my favorite scent?” Brant continued, his tone dripping with arrogance.

“What?” you asked, clearly uncomfortable with the way he was speaking to you.

Before the situation could escalate, the elevator arrived, and Spencer, feeling a pang of anxiety at the possibility of hearing you agree to another man’s advances, quickly stepped inside, not wanting to witness it.

But just as the doors were closing, he overheard Brant’s next move. “What do you say, baby? You and me, this weekend?” Brant asked, his tone filled with unwelcome confidence.

“Oh, um, no thank you. I appreciate the offer,” you replied, trying to be polite despite your discomfort.

“Why not?” Brant pressed, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

“I don’t have to give you a reason,” you said firmly, attempting to walk away.

But as you turned to leave, Brant grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Uh, yeah, you do,” he said, his grip tight and his tone menacing.

Just then, Derek Morgan, who had been nearby, stepped out of the bullpen and saw what was happening. “Whoa, what’s going on?” Derek’s voice boomed, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

“We’re having a conversation, butt out,” Brant snapped, clearly irritated by Derek’s interference.

“Y/N, you good?” Derek asked, ignoring Brant entirely as he focused on you.

You shook your head, the fear and discomfort evident in your eyes.

“Let her go, Ledgers,” Derek commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Brant hesitated for a moment, clearly not wanting to back down, but the look in Derek’s eyes told him this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. With a huff, Brant released your arm, glaring at Derek as he stepped back.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Brant muttered under his breath as he turned and walked away, but Derek paid him no mind.

As soon as Brant was gone, Derek turned to you, concern etched on his face. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded, though your hand instinctively rubbed the spot on your arm where Brant had grabbed you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Derek.”

“Anytime,” Derek said, his tone softening as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You need anything, you let me know, alright?”

“Will do,” you replied, giving him a grateful smile.

Derek walked with you toward the elevator, determined to make sure you got to your car safely. The incident with Ledgers had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, but having Derek by your side brought a sense of security.

When you reached the garage, you spotted Spencer standing near Derek’s car, clearly waiting for his ride home. His eyes lit up with concern the moment he saw you, and as Derek explained the situation, his expression shifted from concern to anger.

“Hey, Reid, I’m going to walk Y/N to her car, then I’ll be back, okay?” Derek said, his tone firm as he made sure Spencer understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh, sure, what’s going on?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Ledgers tried to grab at her. I want to make sure she gets out of here safe and sound,” Derek explained, his voice laced with protective determination.

“What?” Spencer’s voice boomed, the anger evident as he looked around, clearly ready to confront Ledgers himself. “Where is he?”

You quickly placed a hand on Spencer’s arm, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Spencer. Derek stepped in before he got too far.”

Spencer’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the concern in his eyes clear. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, but still full of worry.

“Yeah,” you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to determine if you were really alright. “Do you want me to come over tonight? Keep you company?” he offered, his voice sincere and filled with a desire to help.

Your heart warmed at his offer, and you nodded, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Spencer, that sounds really nice. Do you just want to ride with me?” you asked, knowing it would be easier for both of you to go together.

“Yeah, I do,” Spencer replied without hesitation, clearly wanting to be there for you in any way he could.

Derek, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smirk, couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Have fun on your second date, lovebirds,” he quipped, the smirk growing wider as he saw the blush rise on both your cheeks.

Spencer gave Derek a half-hearted glare, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. “It’s not a date,” he mumbled, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Derek just chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “Whatever you say, pretty boy. Just take care of her.”

With that, Spencer stayed close by your side, the silent protector you hadn’t known you needed until now. As you both got into your car, the earlier tension faded away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other’s backs.

—

As you and Spencer sat across from each other at your dining table, enjoying the simple comfort of dinner together, Spencer’s thoughts kept circling back to what had happened earlier. The guilt gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have done something—anything—to protect you from Ledgers. He had been so close, yet he had let the situation unfold without intervening.

Finally, he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Setting his fork down, he looked at you with a seriousness that made you pause. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help,” he said, his voice laced with regret.

You looked up from your plate, surprised by the sudden apology. “What? Oh, Spencer, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

He shook his head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “I should have waited for you,” he insisted, his guilt deepening. The thought of you being in a situation like that without him there to support you weighed heavily on his mind.

“You’re not required to wait for me,” you replied softly, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, really.”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes dropping to his plate as he wrestled with what he wanted to say next. He knew he had to be honest, even if it made him vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the plunge. “No, I know. I just…” He paused, gathering his courage before continuing. “I heard him asking you out, and I guess I didn’t want to stick around to hear you say yes.”

Your breath caught slightly at his admission, the pieces falling into place. It wasn’t just guilt driving Spencer’s apology—it was something deeper, something more personal. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way he was trying to gauge your reaction.

“Spencer,” you began gently, reaching across the table to take his hand, “I would never have said yes to him. I’m not interested in Brant, and I’m certainly not interested in anyone who would treat me like that.”

He looked up at you then, the worry in his eyes softening as your words sank in. “I know, I just… I didn’t want to hear it, you know?” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest.

You squeezed his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “I understand,” you said softly. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of myself.”

Spencer felt a pang of frustration as he realized his initial explanation hadn’t fully conveyed what he meant. He took a deep breath, deciding it was time to be as clear as possible, even if it made him nervous. “I know that, Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a new kind of vulnerability. “You’re more than capable of handling yourself—that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” you replied, your curiosity piqued. “What did you mean?”

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, but then the words came out in a rush, fueled by the need to be honest with you. “I don’t want you to go out with someone else.”

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. “Someone else?”

“I want you to go out with me,” Spencer said, the vulnerability in his eyes now unmistakable. He had put everything out on the table, his feelings laid bare for you to see.

The realization hit you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh,” you managed, your voice soft as you absorbed what he was saying.

There was a moment of silence, and you could see the anxiety flickering in Spencer’s eyes as he waited for your response. His whole posture was tense, as if he was bracing himself for whatever came next.

“Do you… want that too?” Spencer asked, his voice quieter now, but filled with hope.

You bit your lip, feeling a smile spread across your face as your heart swelled with warmth. “I do,” you replied, the sincerity in your voice clear. The smile on your face widened as you saw the relief and joy that washed over Spencer’s features.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the atmosphere between you thick with unspoken feelings and the excitement of what was to come. Then, Spencer’s lips curled into a shy, genuine smile that mirrored your own.

“So, when should we have our third date?” Spencer asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You laughed, delighted by this lighter, more confident side of him. “Hmm. Tomorrow?” you suggested, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him.

“Sounds perfect,” Spencer agreed, his smile widening.

“Spencer?” you asked softly, your tone turning more serious as you looked into his eyes.

“Yeah?” he responded, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation.

“Can I kiss you before our third date?” you asked, your heart pounding as the words left your lips.

Spencer’s smile turned even softer, his eyes lighting up with warmth and affection. “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” he replied, his voice a tender mix of humor and sincerity.

With that, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Spencer met you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips touched in a soft, sweet kiss. It was gentle at first, both of you savoring the moment, the culmination of everything that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still close, you both wore matching smiles, the connection between you now unmistakable and full of promise.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[thewritetofreespeech]

To the Victor

Variant!Marks x f!reader

tags: dark content, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/possessive themes, breeding kink, group sex, mind break, mentions of mass murder [no more than the show]

------------------------

“It’s my turn!”

“Fuck you.” The yellow & black clad Mark cursed with a laugh as he continued to pound into you; though it was kind of hard to tell who was who with their costumes off. “You’ll get a turn when I say you do.”

“That’s not what we agreed.” The alternate hissed as he pushed his long hair out of his face. “You guys all suck….”

“Not really. But this one certainly does.” Mohawk Mark laughed in perverse pleasure at tormenting his alternate and fucking your throat. “Almost as good as my [Y/N]….”

The Marks had laid siege to Earth and were working on conquering it for their own. Cities crumbling under the might of the Invincibles. Getting a taste of what could have been. The only thing that seemed to delay their total domination of Earth was you and their need to be inside you.

You couldn’t remember which one of them found you originally, your mind all but blank now as it was in a state of constant overstimulation, but they brought you here. Apparently, there is a ‘you’ in every dimension, and for some of them that unlocked a lot of feelings some of them were not prepared to deal with or separate from. The boys eventually turned your capture into a game of ‘whoever destroyed the most stuff wins’ and the prize would be the next one to fuck you.

“Don’t say stupid shit like that.” You whimper as Mark thrust hard inside you. Hard enough to hurt. “You’re throwing me off.”

Mohawk Mark laughed. “What? Don’t you still have a [Y/N] back home? Or did you kill her too you fucking psycho.”

The Mark fucking your cunt growled and lunged forward to grab his mohawk mirror by the throat and slam him into a wall. Pulling himself and his twin from you with obscene, wet pops. Your lungs expand fully for the first time in a while, and you shutter as your over stimulated body is suddenly left empty. “Take it back!”

A fight ensued. Common, and no one steps in to help or break it up. If anything, one takes the opportunity to move in on his quarry. “My turn.”

Mark pushed his long hair out of his face again with a smile as he parted your legs and thrust his cock in where his alter had just been. “Hey!” The alternate shouted as he kept his mohawk self at bay with one arm. “I wasn’t done!”

“You snooze you lose.” You whine as the Mark now inside you grabbed your tits. This one liked to play with them every time you had sex. A lot of them did. Your nipples seemed hard all the time now and constantly sore from being played with so much. “Hey, you want in on this? Her mouth is free.”

“Pass.” A somber, sullen-looking Mark dressed in white, the armor of his father’s people, clipped back. “Using their mouth is a waste of time.”

“Tsk. You’re too good for blowies then?” You cry out as Mark’s hips snapped forward faster. Perhaps to make a point. Perhaps just to make your tits bounce.

The other Mark just frowned. “No. But it’s not a good use for valuable, Viltrumite seed.”

His hand reached out to splay over your stomach. Seeming unbothered by another version of himself fucking you, or the bump of his cock against his hand. In the few times it had just been the two of you together, he told you how you would be the perfect mother for the second coming of Viltrum. He always thought you would be.

“You can keep that ubermensch shit to yourself man!” Mohawk Mark cursed. Having scrapped away from his more crazed twin; or they just got bored fighting each other. “No one wants to hear about Dad’s super race. And if you’re ‘too good’ to get sucked off then get out of the way so I can finish!”

Before a second fight starts, the door opens, and the Invincible from a reality where he has his face completely covered walked in. “Where the hell have you been?!”

“Russia.” He throws something on the table. Something metal and heavy as it clangs on its surface. A symbol of his conquest.

The Marks all grow silent until one of them mutters, “Goddamnit,” and they all leave; but not before the Mark inside you studders his hips and cums inside. They all know what a victory like that means, and what it's awarded him.

Once the door closes, the hooded Mark pulls his mask off and sits on the bed beside you. Through the fog in your mind you can see that he's sad. The Mark from his reality looks so much older than the one you have here. They're the same age, the same face, but he just looks like all the youth has been sucked out of him. “I'm gonna get you out of here.” He told you suddenly.

Mark crawled on the bed and curled up with your naked body. Holding you like a fragile little dove. “I'm gonna find mom, and I'm gonna come get you, and then we'll go home. Then everything will be fine and the way it's supposed to be. You'll see.”

He either fell asleep or was trying to as you felt Mark’s chest rise & fall evenly against your back. You didn’t know what to think about what he said. You almost felt sorry for him, which felt odd, but he seemed so sad. For now, you were just grateful for the break and time to rest. The Invincibles wouldn’t let their prize be monopolized forever. Tomorrow morning a new game starts. Cities will fall. People will die. And you will once again be pulled between the Marks. All just waiting for their turn.